Another Day, Another Crisis

It probably doesn't help that I have a cold, but I've been feeling out of sorts for the last few days. Anyone trapped on a desert isle with me would quickly discover that I have a penchant for regular existential crises. I go through fits of feeling like I'm on the top of the world, I know what I want, I'm going after it and everything is brilliant. Then there are weeks where it's all I can do to live vicariously through "24"s Jack Bauer for days at a stretch.

My friend Prince cold comforted me by saying, "it's okay: this crisis you're having, when you get older, it NEVER ends."

This time at least, I think I can source it: I haven't had a creative outlet in two weeks. My ongoing acting class has ended, and likely won't start back up until after the holidays, and my writing partner and I are currently on break.

I feel stuck. Woefully, listlessly, hilariously stuck.

I'm led to believe there are some people who don't have these crises, or at least have the courtesy not to jabber on about them in a grossly public forum. Another friend cold comforted me, saying "this is the artist's life."

When actors sleep, do they dream they're accountants?

Parting thought: Perhaps my life is closer to Jack Bauer's than I previously thought. About once a year he lives through a 24hr terrorist crisis. About once a month I live through a 1wk existential crisis. Jack Baur meet Donovan Dour.