Oozing Out

The crushing blow of my lack of part in Plough hit me with a vengeance today.  I had dinner with Maggie and some Kappas, (while feeling completely and utterly out of place, as they had spent all weekend in Bjork, and It's hard enough for me to relate to anyone these days) but Matt, Luke and Erik sat down next to us.  Of course, I was the smooth sucker and swapped tables (I'm pretty sure the girls didn't actually care, we were mostly done anyways), and realized how completely this show is made of all the people I want to spend show time with.  I want to bond with them, understand the jokes, speak in an annoying Irish accent all the time and gossip about how the show.  I just sat there feeling left out the entire time.  And I told them fervently how they need to make sure they invite me to the hang outs, but it won't happen.  So much of that is so spontaneous that no one would think to give me a call.  I'll end up sitting in my room reading something in middle English to pass the time.

On top of that, I had a meeting with Kirsten (who's in the cast), and she told me how the costume renderings make it look like I should be playing Bessie.  Which is the old lady who has all the spitfire in the world and dies dramatically at the end (spoilers).  So much of me just wants to go back in time and not do Gardens.  Ohmigod.  "You can't always get what you want" just came on my ipod.  This is why my life needs a constant soundtrack.  I think I just experienced the roller coaster of emotions from the week in a 10 second span of time.  Completely unreal.

On the plus side of all of these emotions, I feel like the whole emotionally disturbed artist in me might be on the horizon.  Luckily for my sanity, I don't want to get to that point.  I think I'm actually going to go get help at the counseling center.  This past week was too full of headaches and me resisting the urge to hold a constant drunk buzz is enough to make me seek some help.  It's that bad that I'm finally able to admit that.  That takes a lot.