The beginning of the end

The room is dark save for the fluorescent work lights on the back wall. The air is still and warm. The current doesn’t flow until the crowd does. There’s a Steinway grand piano and a spattering of chairs and music stands. I want to finish the set-up but somewhere along the way I realized I don’t know it anymore. I know the number of chairs and stands in each row but I don’t know the small details, the right leg 1’ from center and how the first trumpet needs to be closer to the edge.

The scene makes me think of younger years when my energy would keep me skipping around tossing platforms by myself. My love for what I was doing made me strong and invincible. My reward was knowing I created something new every day. Something people enjoyed and applauded. I didn’t mind that no one knew who I was or what I did. Maybe I minded a little. But I felt confident that I’d get recognition and appreciation. It was all I really needed.

This morning I’m waiting for a piano tuner. A piano tuner who may or may not show up. My heart is heavy. I am sad. I am fearful of the future. The only career which I have known my entire life no longer makes me happy. It seems to have turned into a cruel world of enemies. I have trouble accepting that there can be so much negativity in a field where we create art for a living. We make wonder, we pretend, we play. It seems so many people have lost site of that. I have no more faith in what I’ve devoted my life to. I dream about there being progressive, intelligent communities of people still making magic but the chances of finding one, in this city, are near impossible. This city hasn’t been my friend in theater since I dropped out of college and off the face of the earth. I have unwillingly made enemies. I am unknown even after working for 18 years.

I feel the end getting closer and it’s scary. There’s nowhere for me to go in this city. I have no other skills or career path. The economy is making it hard to find jobs. I need a job. I need money. I haven’t saved as much as I should. Saving for the future is so hard. It will be even harder without a job.

The depression of the situation lies close to the surface these days. It’s contributing to tension and stress and bad sleep. Part of me wishing I could fast forward, just get it over with. Part of me tries to remember to be positive about each day. I’m struggling without a direction.

I guess I should update my resume.