I’ve started several different posts over the last few months, but never bothered finishing any of them. I guess I don’t have much to say these days. Here’s a synopsis of what’s up in haleyland:
June 6th was my three year sobriety anniversary, which means I started this blog/project about a year ago. I haven’t engaged in any bulimic or psuedo-bulimic behavior in about seven or eight months. I haven’t stayed in or cancelled plans because of my weight since the calendar changed over to 2013. I’ve also eased up on my self-imposed dress code a bit. Not completely, but a bit. No one else may even notice any of these things from an outside perspective, but I know they’re happening.
Although I have gained and lost (and gained and lost and gained and lost) a grand total of about 65 pounds over the course of the past twelve months (that’s pretty typical of a year in my body), I have somehow managed to end up right where I was on the scale this time last year. It’s frustrating, but I think of where I was when I was one year sober versus where I am today and just keep reminding myself it’s not all gonna happen overnight. Er…or overyear, as the case may be.
My priority in life continues to be finding a legitimate career. The freelancing thing would be fine- enjoyable even- if I could get consistent work. Instead, one week I’m slammed and going so many different directions I can’t even think straight. The next, I’m selling random pieces of furniture on craigslist to pay my bills.
I do have one part-time gig that is an actual go-to-work job instead of a remote writing position. It requires me to travel/work with people who desperately need to sit through a course in sensitivity training. Their main points of conversation usually revolve around enforcing racial and gender stereotypes or telling me how God has asked them to pray for me. Also, the Regional Manager is now enforcing a rule where if we are scheduled to work an auction over two hours from our house, we are required to stay overnight in a hotel…wait for it.…with another coworker in a shared room. It might be someone you know, might not. But you’re required to sleep and shower and pee and poop and snore and drool and do whatever you do on your own private time, while not getting paid, with a co-worker/stranger hanging out in the same living area.
And also: Hell no.
I’ve miraculously been able to avoid this crazytown requirement until now, but I’m scheduled to work in Sacramento on Monday. My assignment is to spend the night on Sunday with a girl I’ve met twice. For reference, she is a very sweet young thing who I’ve heard say, “That’s soooo retarded” over a dozen times.
So….clearly. This is not a place that is gonna work out for me long term.
I recently found out my former supervisor (at TCOE) no longer works there. I had high hopes that this vacancy would allow them to reinstate my position, but it doesn’t look like that is going to happen. I don’t know if it’s a money issue or if it’s because my former co-worker- who has now moved into the supervisor role- doesn’t want to rehire me. I was such a bitch to him (way too many times to count), so even though we were getting along at the end of my time there, I can hardly blame him if that’s the case. But let this be a lesson, people. As the great and powerful Justin Timberlake once said, “What goes around ,goes around, goes around comes all the way back around.”
In the mean time, I have been half-heartedly looking for positions in other cities (and states) but I think I really do want to stay here a bit longer. I’m finally making a dent in the theatre community, as far as getting to know more and more people. Or have any of them know who the hell I am, rather. I really do need to be better about meeting some more LGBT and concert-going/live-music-loving friends. I’ve sort of neglected those areas of my personality. I would say my creative life is the only area where I actually feel relatively fulfilled for the moment, so it’s high time I put more energy into other things I care about.
Other than that, I keep on keeping on.
More later when there’s more to say.