Or rather I am. Or as my dear friend Marsha would say, I am a freelance administrative professional. And it is, in a word, exhausting.
Not because I had to be at the architectural firm I'm currently calling home (untill Tuesday. Just Tuesday. At which point I will not have made enough money to pay my rent. But then the month isn't over. Yet.) at 7:45 this morning. And it is a lovely office, with a view of the lake to die for, lots of natural light - as temp jobs go, this one is pretty choice. I'm sitting at a pretty reception desk, doing some prep work for Touch and talking to you. Not bad at all.
But back to the exhaustion - I'm starting to think that maybe I'm not built for this kind of cavalier rock and roll life style. On the one hand it's delightful to be able to have the Monday after your opening weekend off because there's no temp job for you to go to. It's lovely until about 11 AM when the panic about rent payments and food and the unexpected afternoon visit to the vet (my cat has allergies. WTF?) and how am I going to build a life like this starts to set in.
The trouble is, I want to be a director (see above post) which is a delightful thing to know, but means also not knowing what else to do to make my proverbial ends meet. I would love to be freelancing, consulting, doing something in my field - but what exactly? Do I want to produce? Maybe - probably - definitely maybe. Great: how do I get a day job producing?
It's back to art vs. life and wondering if I have to choose. Is this my Saturn Return? Maybe. I dunno - the past year and a half have been so full of transition and upheaval and all of that sort of business I'm wondering if this is more of a new address than a day trip. I hope not. I hope that my life as a grown-up looks a bit more stable (and is about 10 pounds lighter. At least.). But who is it that said that adults are just children who owe money? If that's the definition I am most certainly a grown-up already. And I am getting a little more grown-up every day.