Drama Queens and Toxic Feet.

I am known for rushing headlong into things.
I am a doer. Not a stand in the sidelines kind of person.

I will almost always volunteer for things-unless it is singing. because, trust me-no one wants to hear that. Ever heard cats under your window or in the alley out back doing it?
If you have, you know the sound of horror.

That's me. Singing.

Damnit. I hate it when I get off track. Sorry, I did have a point. I blame the lack of Ritalin.

Anyway, I was always the person who sat in the front row of class if I could. I always raised my hand. I always volunteered for extra duties, and extra things.
Yes, I was THAT girl.

So, recently I auditioned for a play (not a musical, we covered this already) A play. A macabre, Ray Bradbury, Halloween time play. And I got a part. Miraculously.
Not the part I auditioned for-which was a kind of minor lead..
But, I was stoked to even be chosen at all. with 80-ish people who auditioned with me (for a non-musical) which set a record, I'm told.
I was one of the 20 chosen for a role, and one of the 10 with speaking parts.
So, this was a shock.

Last week, I got a text message from the director...

Director Lady: Hi...this is director lady...and something happened to our one of our characters, and I would like to invite you to come and read for the Salesman-again. Listen, you are the favorite, I won't lie. You read the scene perfectly when you auditioned and It was between you and the person I originally chose, but we have to do some shifting because someone is leaving the cast because of a family obligation...So, will you read for it? I have to hold another audition to be fair...

Me:  😲

So, being the ever-nutty volunteer...I said...yes. I was still a little stunned considering that this is literally my first play since high school-almost 30 years ago.  (yes, I'm old AND fat-shut up)

But after I saw the larger volume of lines to memorize, the longer rehearsal schedule, and the time dedication needed...the ego, the volunteer in me,  the incessant need for validation all but vanished-and there was the older, wiser, and definitely more practical side of me saying...um...so...about that?

Long story short...I declined. I did so because my son starts football next week, my real job just got insanely busy all of a sudden (which is good, and bad) and my second job starts in late September. Which, this week alone-at just the thought of it, has sent me into a bit of a tailspin of anxiety, and stressy, snotty, attitude-and lack of sleep, and or wanting to sleep all day.

Currently, me:

I know pretty easily one sure-fire indication of stress build or the early warning signs of a full-out anxiety attack-and that is wanting to take naps during the day.
I don't like naps. Well, I love them. But, my body does not. Meaning, they feel great while in the process, but the waking part is horrible. I wake super cranky, massively groggy, and murderous.
Nope.
Not exaggerating.
It's best to stay quiet and far away from me after a nap because-

I hate everything.

Babies, giraffes, my sons hugs, strong coffee, pizza. Nothing is safe. I hate it all. Naps + Jadedgirl= death to all things. Nothing or no one- is safe.

And last week, right around noon-ish...the sleepy set in. I resisted most of the days and just guzzled another cup of coffee-but as a side note-this doesn't help me. This just makes me edgy and still tired-which puts me in virtually the same state as I am after a nap...so it's a lose-lose.

And this was the heads up I needed.

There was literally NO WAY I could possibly take on more with my body sending signals like this.
As much as I am a volunteer, and an "eager beaver"-I also tend to get overwhelmed easily.  So, I turned it down. And I am happy about my decision to do so.
Because the director was having issues with her decision, I made things easier for her-which in turn, made her say that she already has a starring role in mind for me for her next play...
Oh my.

I'm in good graces. That's totally not typical.

To note...I am still stressy. It happens at this time of year-almost every year.
So much all at once tends to make me a little (ha!)  off kilter. Also, I haven't been exercising. I don't know why. I just stopped after we came back from vacation. Laziness maybe. Maybe lack of energy due to all of the stress.
I know that slippery slope. Like the anti-drug commercials of the 80's (gotta buy more cocaine so I can work, gotta work so I can buy more cocaine)
The exercise helps the cortisol build and the stress-it also fights the anxiety, and helps you sleep better. But, the stress and generalized anxiety disorder also saps your energy and gives you zero motivation-which makes it terribly difficult to get out and just do it. Anxiety is a total bastard. Maybe I should give my anxiety a name, you know...to humanize it, but not in the good way. Maybe, giving it a name (knowing how much I loathe people as a whole) will help me hate it more and drive me to kill it. Killing it with exercise and happy thoughts?
That's an idea!
How about Hitler?
Or...or...
TRUMP! No...too easy.
Who else do I hate? Hmmm?
Pro life bombers? (I don't have an actual name here, that won't work)
Osama Bin Laden! No...too ethnic and way too long.
The Westboro Baptist Church?
Nope, still too long.
Women who play the victim?
No. Too controversial.
Ooh! I know! COMCAST!

This is something I am apparently going to have to think more about. I mean it has to be effective. Sigh. I'll dedicate time to that...later.

And see how easy that A.D.D. kicks in? Damnit, man.

So... there is almost always too much going on in early September.
I won't list it all and bore you, but what I mentioned above was but a whisper of the stuff going down in my life currently.
However, without the worry of even more being thrown at me like a wild pitch in the major league-I feel enough lighter not to have a major meltdown.
And when I say meltdown-I mean, major BF (bitch fit) Like, land moving proportions.
And the aftermath is usually even worse than the initial storm.
The wreckage is a weeks-long cleanup process. My wake is devastation. True fucking story.

Ever heard of the elephants foot in Chernobyl?

Read this: 

Yes. It really is that bad.

So having said all that...knowing my limitations, I have to learn how to not have to be the boss all of the time, and also...learn how to hang back and just go with it occasionally.
It's not easy for me. It goes altogether against my nature.

But, at this time of year-it must be done-mostly to avoid poisoning all of my friends and family with my deadly toxic radiation. It doesn't smell good.

So this week has been full of meditation, and avoidance, and bottling things.

You know what happens when you bottle a volcano? At some point...

You get the point.

Next week will be different. I am going to make a schedule.
A schedule that dedicates time to each task in my week.
And will NOT deviate-lest someone wants me to lose that Goddamned cork.

And I will happily sit through my minor role rehearsals and love that I am doing it at all.

Life in the drama lane.

By The Pricking of my thumb, something Wicket this way comes...

Belly rise...belly fall.

XOXO,
Thespian girl.