One thing leads to another.

Why is it that, when I stop writing one thing, I stop writing everything?  I stop blogging, and so I stop writing new comedy, short stories and I just generally stop writing at all.  Maybe because writing has suddenly become my job in the form of lessons about France.  I do enjoy writing them (and getting paid for it), but after an afternoon of research, voice recording and blogging for profit, I'm much less likely to stay glued to my computer to write a post of my own. 

And I'm rehearsing for a play (which is awesome), but it means I've taken on odd hours of rehearsing until 10 or 10:30, and then coming home and staying up until 1 or 2 for no particular reason, which (in turn) means I get up at 10 or 10:30, putter around the flat, and around this time (12:30, as my blog has stopped using a time stamp) I think, Hmm, maybe I should shower.  And I do eventually, then I do some work, run through my lines, and it's time for rehearsal again.

This is what I've wanted for so long: to be in a play, to be making some kind of money at writing.  Now that I'm here, however, I've grown complacent.  I haven't done a stand-up gig in weeks.  I've stopped writing and editing my own work.  I haven't thought much at all about the fact that I will be in New York for two months this summer and I want to make something of that time.  I'll be in New York, for god's sake, I need to be thinking about theater and writing and performance and where will I rehearse? and who with? and what kind of time frame will I have?

And so the questions pile up and I shut down again.  Easier to leave the questions unanswered than tackle them all at once.  And in the meantime, I'm broke.  Or as close to broke as possible when my boyfriend provides most to all living expenses and I just halfheartedly chase dreams and hope that something will come up.