The one thing I've always been dedicated to on this blog is candor. Because I consider my blog to be an extension of the 50 or so volumes of my earlier handwritten journals (kept from 1977 to 2002), I keep very little in reserve where my thoughts and emotions are concerned. Sure, some things never get written about, but I don't think that's a particularly bad thing; I have entries in my journals, rash ejaculations written in the heat of the moment, that make me cringe. My blog holds in the reins, so to speak, on my impulsiveness...
The past month has been especially hard around here, and while I hesitate to write about everything for fear of appearing the whiner, I can only take so much before the need to pitch a fit takes hold. Most of my readers understand this. They also understand that even in the depths of disappointment and depression I possess a kind of "gallows humor" (hat tip to Kay for re-introducing me to this phrase) that eventually outs itself. As she says, "A gallows humor is better than no humor at all".
While I will not apologize for yesterday's entry, I did delete it, for no other reason than to put what inspired it out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind. So far, it's working pretty well. I read last night that the director/screenwriter I named yesterday is not in fact the one working on the new screenplay. It is someone I've never heard of, a 21 year-old woman whose name I cannot mention here due to the prying eyes of those who feel it necessary to keep an eye on me and report my every move back to their members-only clique. Whatever. I'm also giving the author another shot; I've begun re-reading her book with as uncritical an eye as I can muster.
If it was just the issue with the screenplay, life would be pretty easy, actually, but we're facing a really difficult time financially around here that has turned downright scary. Putting food on the table and keeping the roof are very real challenges right now. With the financial crisis at play, fewer people find having a website to be all that important, and if they really need one they're building their own using one of the many DIY web-builders that are out there. I mean, why not put the money one would spend on a designer into some software they can use over and over again? That's how I got into this after all. Too, Nettl's voice students are dropping; the arts are always the first to go in times of financial crisis.
I'm trying to be positive, but I wake up every morning wondering where tonight's meal will come from. I admit I have a real issue with an empty pantry because I've gone hungry several times before, living on oatmeal or ramen for weeks on end so that my kids could eat. Opening up the fridge to see it full is like dropping a hit of Ecstasy. And now there's the rent issue on top of that. Lynette and I are working as hard as we can to get through this hard time, but let's face it, we're not young and neither of us is in the best of health. Sure, we have the "treasure" that will more than likely fetch a neat price, but that will probably take months to see fruition, so in the meantime we're hanging onto an eroding cliff by our fingernails. We know help is coming, we just don't know when. Besides the drop in clients and voice students, the summer also marked the end of child support checks as well as my Morgan Stanley anuities; our monthly income has dropped by nearly $1000.
I'll try to keep things light here—as light as possible—but I can't promise that my fear and despair won't emerge once in a while. Just wanted to clarify. Thanks for listening. No need to comment.