Carrying on in the Midst of the Smell

I actually had two auditions in the last two days.  They were my first auditions in the past... oh...let's say couple of months.  It was definitely good to get back in the game, as it were.  Especially considering I've been having a slight meltdown over the last few weeks.  I've been having moments of slightly-past-quarter-life-crisis, in which I stand in the back of the kitchen of the restaurant, sneaking toasted almonds from my secret stash and polishing silverware with my tears while bemoaning the fact that I wait tables for a living in spite of having a Master's degree.  Not that there's anything wrong with waiting tables as a profession.  Some people are never happier than in the hustling and bustling environment of a busy restaurant.  I, dear reader, am not one of those folk.  I chose waiting tables since the schedule is flexible (for auditioning purposes), and the pace tends to be quicker than that of, say, retail, which I did for two and a half years before grad school.  Retail made me to want to stab my eyes out with a pencil rather than go to work one more day.


It was retail that brought me to my original quarter life crisis, the one that prompted the journey to obtain my Master's in the first place.  I remember it was New Year's Day, and as per our  tradition, the Hubby and I were analyzing our places in the world - together, professionally, creatively, figuratively, etc.  We both were wondering what exactly had happened to the past few years.  You know those years.  The years between college and the Now.  Well, that heavy duty conversation, in which I revealed that retail was making me die a little more inside every day, led us both to pursue furthering our educations, and, ultimately, guided us here - to a tiny apartment in a city that often smells strangely of feet and pot, thousands of miles away from our families and any semblance of decent weather (except yesterday which was glorious and curiously out of place for February), and a day job that frequently makes me long for a "normal" life with a paid vacation, 401K, and a house - a house that I own and in which I don't live above my anxious Italian landlady who refuses to allow us to use the brand new washer and dryer in the basement for fear of the "wear and tear" it will cause.


I've been reading a lot lately on patience and contentment, definitely not my strongest characteristics.  I am hoping that some revelation will lodge itself in my psyche, causing me to be at peace with my situation.  Not complacent, but less prone to hide in the back of the kitchen eating contraband almonds and shaking my fist at the sky while silently screaming, "I have a Master's damn it!" (in full Shakespearean voice of course).  Guess I'll just have to wait and see.  For now, I'm trying to remember to be grateful for the auditions, my landlady, and the overpowering smell of feet and pot.


P.S.  When the Hubby read this entry, he promptly responded with this little ditty.  Maybe you'll enjoy it as well. Cheers!