The One Where I Live Without.

I'll be honest; now that I'm no longer working a desk job, blogging doesn't come as easily.

The good news is, I'm working. I landed a job as a Guest Service Agent at a hotel downtown. I feel very fortunate that I was able to find the job so quickly - about three weeks ago. It's exhausting, but it's full-time, it pays rather decently, it's a short drive there, and I really do like it. I've learned so much in these first few weeks about hotels and businesses in general. A lot of it is very surprising and intriguing. I don't think anyone who visits a hotel understands all the work that gets put into each and every guest... and all the things the person simply standing at the front desk must know in order for it to be a smooth and comfortable stay.

Moral of the story: be nice to the people helping you at hotels... don't treat them like peons. They're people, and they want you to be happy; no one is out to get you on your vacation, especially the people running the scene. BE NICE.

When I'm at home during my leisure time, I find that I spend far less of it at the computer (hence the lack of bloggage) and more of it watching television series episodes: Grey's Anatomy, The Biggest Loser, Alcatraz, Desperate Housewives, Modern Family, New Girl, Touch, Friends, and Slings & Arrows... to name a few. (And, yes, I'm a bit embarrassed by that list.)
I've come to the conclusion that my brain, after so much schooling, is taking a bit of a break. School wore me out, and that's the truth. I felt like I was in it for far too long, and I was far too deeply buried in the stress that is class and homework and deadlines.

That doesn't mean that I haven't stopped thinking, no. It just means that I'm letting life happen as turtle-speed as I see fit. Truly, this month has crept by so slowly, and I'm more than okay with that while my brain takes its vacation. But only for a little while. Angela Jeffries can only stand stagnant for so long.

While the brain-break is nice, there is one thing that's making life feel a little askance: I miss performing. I don't mean for that to sound so cliché because it is the truth. It's been almost a month and a half since A Christmas Carol closed, and I miss the stage horribly. I miss the rehearsals. Heck, I even miss the auditioning. And my next planned audition isn't for another two-ish months.

I'm entertaining myself with the new songs that I'm learning (3 down so far), but it's not enough. I'm reading more scripts and collecting more sheet music and watching more bootlegs, but it's nothing compared to actually feeling (forgive the cliché again) the lights on my skin. After all, I have been performing and rehearsing non-stop for almost four years, with almost no breaks in between productions.

I got a bit emotional about it the other day, actually, as I was reading the 110 In the Shade script. I wasn't a mess or anything - tears just sort of brimmed my eyes a bit.

I am connected so deeply to the theatre art form that it breaks my heart to be away from it. In that moment, I thought about something someone said to me once, "If theatre disappeared from your life or it never existed, you need to know that you would be okay, that you would survive."

Sometimes I say that I feel like my life would be over if I ever lost my ability to sing, but I know that's not the case. The truth is, I would be okay. I absolutely would survive without it. I would have other hobbies, and I would be pursuing a different career. I would have different friends, the same wonderful family. I wouldn't really know what I was missing, and therefore I would be okay.

But then I thought of something else someone said to me. "You are what you think about all day long." Art. I think about so many different art forms all day long: writing, music, performance, crafting, discovering, dreaming, reading. And it all improves my life, mixed right in with my incredible family, my beliefs, my heart, my friends, and every other little perfect addition.

So... survival would be possible without it. But I prefer my life in a way that is so much more than "surviving." I prefer feeling; I prefer aching for it when it's not around. Best of all, I prefer living with it and loving it, too.