Humbug.

I'm a mess. I have a wonderful and encouraging best friend who is probably getting a little bit sick of my shit. So, I'm here instead of bothering him on Christmas Day.

 I wound up sobbing over Slings and Arrows.

 "You sit there thinking why isn't she in a real job? Why isn't she in a relationship? [...] Look, I know what you're gonna say. I've been very irresponsible up to now. I don't plan, I just react. I know that. You know what I think it is? What I'm afraid of? Deep down? That if I start being responsible, I'll stop being an artist. Isn't that ridiculous? [...] I am through with who I am right now. I hate who I am right now. I'm taking control of my life."

 Ellen doesn't, of course, but it's the first time I've ever related to her, and I kind of hoped I would never be able to. And it's not quite the same, the idea that responsibility would be an end to my creativity, because, really, when am I bothering to be creative lately, anyway?

 I'm trying to stay away from Facebook. And Twitter. But I know that if I do either of those things, I will talk to literally nobody for a while and I might get a little bit crazy. Crazier.

 What do I want? I want to be making up theatre with friends. I'm directing a fun script, an ensemble piece that I thought I would love directing as a reading, and it's going to be fun and fine, but, BUT, it's a piece to teach a cast how to do this kind of theatre. I don't want to teach people. I want to be there with people who know what they're doing.

 How far am I willing to go to get there? Am I willing to quit all my jobs, leave the house and start over someplace else entirely?

 For a sure thing, yes. For a chance? No.