Confessions of a Struggling Actor

Having no money sucks.  It means I'm generally forced to sit around the house listening to my flatmate's warblings.

The weekend was not too bad though.  I decided, with the aid of my lack of funds, not to watch Aberdeen lose to Celtic, but stayed in an did fuck all.  I seem to be doing that more over the past few week, but to be honest, I am feeling a little burnt out and need mindless activities (TV, sleeping) to help me relax and calm down.  Marky Mark - who is now in the same self-employed-watching-expediture boat as myself - came round for a catch-up and we watched Rushmore and laughed our existential arses off over a glass of red.  Once he left and my flatmate came in, I finished the red quick smart-ish (I'm drinking too often again) and hit the hay.

Football on Sunday was eventful.  3 half hour matches in a pre-season tournament in 30C, with 7 injuries over 4 teams, including one of our guys needing stitches after a team-mates ignored his shout for a high ball.  Lost 2 drew one only goal was an own goal.  not going into the season with THAT much confidence, no matter what the guys at the side say...  Never felt so dehydrated in my life and never enjoyed a cold shower as much.  Evening spent off the booze - hurrah - but with my flat mate.  Early to bed again.

Monday at work was the usual.  After that I had a line run of R&J - the first time I'd seen Ami since the split.  It threw me rather more than I thought it might and I fluffed a couple of lines.  After a glass of wine and a little chat with the others in the cast, i made my excuses (justified as I had a meeting with my boss at 10am) and left.  On the way home I was overcome with conflicting and strong emotions.  I felt angry, frustrated, disappointed, sadness, yet more anger, self pity, self loathing, angry at her, angry at me, questioning myself and my ability to relate to others, what I did wrong, what she didn't get - all that utter bullshit came flooding into my head.  When i got home, both my co-habitants were in and I explained the situation and went outside for a fag.  I don't think they'd seen me in that sort of mood before and treaded very carefully around me.  I wanted to punch/wreck something and briefly considered smashing one of the chairs in our front room or hitting my flatmate, but managed to control myself.  I tanned another bottle of red, smoke a ten pack of fags and ruminated until 2am before deciding it would be beter to pass out on a bed than a sofa.

Next day, I awoke and felt miles better.  I'd gone over it in my head so much the previous evening that there was nothing left to torture myself with, so got on with life.  In work, my performance review was pretty glowing and I got to make some pertinent points to my boss regarding the way he was managing me and the rest of the department.  That instantly made me feel better and the rest of the day sailed by.  Luke came round at night and we had a good laugh and chat and played a little Tiger Woods.  I was utterly unstoppable.  I managed to get an earlyish night as well after he left - as I drifted off I could hear Denis practising as he is getting annoyed that he hasn't beaten me yet.  He can't putt to save his life, so I'm pretty certain I can keep him at arms length considering I beat him by 15 shots...

Wednesday was naturally a little less satisfying, especially when I realised that I was completely out of cash and only had enough for my lunch for the next two days and would have to miss the gig I was planning to attend that night.  It was only frustrating rather than desperate as I was getting paid at the end of the week.  Halfway through the morning, and without any warning, I suddenly got incredibly light-headed, broke out in a sweat and my arms and hands started to pulse and shake.  I semi- staggered to Sainsbury's to get something to eat.  Our receptionist said I looked zombie-ish (I assume without the puss and bloodlust) which seemed very apt as they're shooting 28 Months Later (sequel to 28 Days Later) round the corner from our offices.  No-one offered me a part as I walked past though - the rotters!  I spent the rest of the day in a sort of spaced out daze, but funnuily enough was incredibly productive.  I stayed late finishing some things off and then played on MySpace and Bebo for a while.

The model employee behaviour carried over into yesterday, while rumours circulated about a complaint against my boss as he'd made a couple of girls in other departments cry by being a knob to them.  Nothing will happen until next week, but it's good to have a bit of drama.  Which segues nicely into the fact that there was the first rehearsal proper that evening.  Meaning seeing Ami again.

As it was, it wasn't all bad.  The initial shock/emotions had passed and though it's still awkward and neither of us has chatted to the other, there's not been the opportunity to chat (I don't think many of the cast knew we even saw each other) and there's no nastiness - just distance.  The run went quite well as we're having to adapt to the different theatre space that the Cochrane provides compared to the french tour.  We all went for a drink after and though Ami and I kind of circled each other, there was still no communication.  As I left, there was no remorse or regret and I simply went home and slept deeply and happily.

No boss today, so fairly chilled and I got my big cheque for the VO.  What a touch.  It's all going on a computer, photos, acting fees and either clothes or new specs, but it's nice all the same.  Tonight is rehearsal, followed by a few drinkies to celebrate a pal's birthday/network.  The weekend holds more rehearsals and networking, if only to try to get an audience for the show next week...