Hooray, and we're back on track!

**note:  last night I was overcome with the urge to write, to create, to face the universe and it's challenges head on, so I sat down at my computer and let the words flow through my finger tips and spill across the screen.  I was inspired, it felt good, and in the end I triumphantly stated to the universe that I was winning...only to have the universe respond in it's own ironic way.  As my mouse hovered over the "publish post" button I had written about I could feel the premonition of my post's impending doom.  Learned from years of experience in loosing hours of work due to the unreliability of technology I did the smart thing and copy and pasted to word.  Good thing too because once I clicked my mouse, I felt the universe laughing at me as Blogger completely disappeared from cyberspace replaced by the "ERROR BAD SOURCE 404" message.  So, after many attempts to bring up the site every way possible I gave up, went to bed, and returned to my mission this morning.  I was determined, the universe would not get the best of me just yet.  A computer restart later and a few more failed attempts and I think it realized that I was not going to be so easily deterred, so here we are...finally back on track, I've passed the test, my motivation will not wane.  Enjoy...**

As I stood in my kitchen tonight looking into my newly opened bag of Trader Jo (or as the bag aptly states "Trader Giotto's") frozen Gnocchi al Gorgonzola something occurred to me as it often does.  I felt the urge to write.  And this time, I was going to follow that instinct.  No more thinking about great ideas to put down and then forgetting them or being too lazy once I found my way to the laptop, no.  No more half posts marooned in my "drafts" tab for months or years (I still have a few unfinished just waiting for their day to come), no.  Tonight I was going to do it.  To write, to finish my thought and hit that orange "publish post" button that taunts me and challenges me to be secure, to have that resolve that is needed to put your thoughts and ideas out there to the world...even if the world is only one other person who decides to take a moment to look into that window into your head, the one you leave open for any passerby to see.  Yes, tonight I was going to pull those blinds back and show you, my friend, what has changed and what is to come.  

As I stared down into that plastic bag full of little frozen nuggets and cheese that reminded me of sliced butter, I realized that the energy I felt within my gut was not just the excitement of two hours of rehearsal time in the theater, the restlessness of four hours of class, the drive to at last sit down with my scene and actually dive into the character's life not simply stare blankly and struggle with my thoughts as I'd done numerous times in the last few days...no.  That feeling, that urge to run around the block was not simply the McFrape I drank at 6:50 to stay awake through what inevitably becomes my nap time (I know I'm not the only one that fights the urge to nod off during the tediousness of class)...no, it was much more.  Well than what was it you're probably asking...and yes, I was wondering the same as I dumped what would be my dinner into the skillet.  

Pure motivation.  Inspiration.  The drive that is ever elusive and that is as fleeting as it is sudden.  The one that is a crucial part of any creative process, of success, of life!  Sometimes I think I'm bi-polar, or that I'm ruled by the moon or something equally as inexplicable and crazy.  Seriously, I do.  Just last week driving to work I wondered why I was feeling so down and out, so lazy, so defeated with life and my progress through it for no real reason.  Heck, the week before I was on top of the world thinking my life was the bee's knees and that I wouldn't trade it for anything.  And here I was again, hit out of no where with this passion and drive and focus and lust for my art, for progress, for getting myself back up and on the right track.  Perhaps you don't believe my awe of my ridiculous sounding shifts in emotion, so I'll try to articulate the randomness of my strokes of...well... genius?  Earlier today as I was mapping out my month in detail in my planner, on my kitchen calendar, and in my google calendar (yes, I have to be THAT organized in order to attempt to live normally) I came to the realization that I had a whole hell of a lot of things to accomplish in the next 30 days.  So much that I started to panic, how was I going to manage it all in the time I had?  Anyone that knows me well, knows I struggle with time management and deadlines.  I just can't get done what others can in a limited amount of time no matter how hard I try...so how was I going to manage going to class 4 times a week for a minimum of 3 hours a day, fitting in rehearsals with my scene partner, rehearsals with my other classmates, not to mention my own personal work to be done on said scene, breaking down a new script for a short film, working, shooting the film, preforming in showcase, memorizing two sides a week for another class, updating my website, planning a 4th of July BBQ, buying a bridal shower gift and going to the shower, MC-ing a wedding, help planning the batchelorette party and then going, have my parents visit, and still find time to eat, sleep, and breathe?!?  

I was overwhelmed, and as I often do when presented with a daunting task ahead I napped.  Yep, I had a whole slew of stuff to do and work to be done, and my defense mechanism or coping strategy is to get sleepy, and loose concentration, and nap.  It's awful, it's so ridiculously counter productive but I can't fight it.  I even sat down at my dining room table script in hand in an attempt to force myself into productivity and within five minutes I was laying on the sofa.  Never mind the fact it was 2:30pm, the sun was out, and that I got a good night's sleep or that in a few hours I would be on my way to meet with my scene partner.  Fighting it was futile, and the nap won in the end.  Typical me.  And yet here I was, 11:45pm stirring the now soupy concoction on my stove full of energy and the sudden urge to sit down and get started.  To be productive.  To knock out my list of tasks to be done and strive for excellence.  

How strange my urges can be, and yet when I'm taken by one I must grab on with all my power and dedication and ride it before it passes through me and I'm left with nothingness once again.  Even now as I type and struggle to maintain the emotional high I'm writing about I feel it slipping...feel the day catching up with me, the night creep into my mind and my concentration wane.  My Gnocchi which was once hot and inviting sits half eaten and cold beside me and my train of thought once focused has started to loose it's goal.  Where was I going with all this?  Had my inspiration passed?  Would I wake up blank and fighting with my lack of drive again?  No, I refuse to be beaten by myself, I refuse to slip into quiet resignation again and again, not if I can help it, not yet.  

July will be crazy, busy, and if all goes well as I plan it to do, rewarding.  I refuse to waste any more time, I refuse to become one of those people who's dreams became past memories simply because they did not act, did not want them badly enough.  I may not have much to show for it yet, but I will be the best I can be, I will give this my all, and I will never be satisfied.  I may have chosen the hardest profession for my character, I may have to work that much harder to unlock the key to success, and I may have to overcome my deepest fears to get there, but I will succeed.  I will learn, I will grow, I will achieve.

The first step is this.  Is writing it down.  Is stating it for the world and myself, is not letting myself get lazy and letting the moment or thought pass by.  No more excuses, no more apologies, no more "starting fresh" yet again.  Most of all, no more promising myself that this time would be the last because all that matters now is action, is where I go from here.  Words and promises are hallow, I can say it till I'm blue in the face but in the end the only one I let down is myself, and I'm tired of being disappointed.

Hello orange button...today, I win.

What a waste...

As an Adult I waste a lot of time.  This really is not a new occurrence for me, more like a reoccurring theme throughout my entire life except now, as an adult, it's mine to own up to. You see growing up I had my mother's constant nagging and persistent eye to keep me semi on track.  "Time management" was a skill I greatly lacked and she was bound and determined to change that.  Well, needless to say, some things are not easily altered and my sense of time was one of them.  I have learned to come to terms with it as much as I can I guess, I mean I completely admit that it's still one of my most prominent downfalls and that I spend countless hours doing a whole lot of nothing productive even after all my attempts at productivity.  I am constantly writing out lists and assigning myself tasks to do on given days throughout the week, and I still find myself sucked into some mindless activity that was not one of those clearly stated on my post-it.  I guess this wouldn't be as big of a problem if I had a career path that didn't require self starting and motivation, but clearly in this industry wasting time is a luxury that I shouldn't afford.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not always a time waster...I have my moments of inspiration in which I will complete a number of tasks at a semi-normal rate of time, but these days are greatly outnumbered by days in which I complete no task at all.  Even now as I write about wasting time there are numerous other activities I should be doing such as breaking down my scene for my next company showcase, going to the bank, grocery shopping, choosing photos from some of my recent photo shoots to be featured on my website, tracking down the media clips of some student films I was in, updating my website, setting up a time to take new head shots with the agency recommended photographer (or at least going through her site to see the style they like and deciding if any of my friends' styles are comparable), looking through my old Europe photos to choose a couple to enlarge and put in the frames on my walls...see?  Lots that a normal person could knock out in one day but will undoubtedly take me a week of hard concentration and self discipline.

I used to get angry, upset, really bent out of shape when I didn't complete a task in a timely manner.  I mean, I still often get annoyed with myself for wasting a perfectly good day doing nothing but there is no one to blame but myself in the end, so I have to let it go and chalk it up to a day of relaxation.  This is me, this is my life, and if I don't want to be chemically reliant then I'm going to have to resign the fact that I am indeed a time waster. Granted, there are the rare days when I wake up early and semi motivated that I deem my days of productivity and indulge in my totally legit Dr. prescribed medication to help boost my time management skills a bit...but even then I'm prone to time wasting.

It's an amazing thing though, the amount of work someone can get done who doesn't seem to be sucked into mindless activities or distractions.  Just a couple weeks ago my parents stopped by on their way down to San Diego.  They stayed with me for a total of 23 hours and completed what would have been for me a month of work...actually, who am I kidding...in a span of 5 hours they managed to complete tasks that have been on my "to do" list for months AND have a leisurely lunch and head to downtown to dinner.  Amazing.  To them it was just another day, to me it was a complete re-decorating of my apartment and another reminder of how my life is so not normal and how much harder I must work at making myself a viable and successful adult.  I can't imagine what I would get done if I had their drive...or rather simply a "normal" sense of concentration.  It's crazy, I never really wanted to admit it but really the way I live my life is rather ridiculous.  Perhaps my late  college boyfriend was right when he'd say "you're prescribed it, it can help you, you should take it" to which I'd respond "but I don't want to depend on a drug, it makes me feel slow."  Probably not what people expect...but it does.  Granted I get twice as much done (still not as much as a regular person) but my thoughts feel slow.  It's strange, I distinctly remember one of the first days of trying my new regimen and us driving to school to study.  How as we drove I kept staring out the window and simply enjoying the view.  I wasn't thinking about anything but the landscape and houses and trees that were passing by and wondering if that's what it was like to be "normal," to only think about what was right in front of you not a million and one other things buzzing around in the back of your head.  It was foreign, and strange, and I didn't like it...why did I need to be "normal"?

...and now here I am...realizing that I'm just getting older and the days are passing with me sitting here doing a lot of nothing.  I go in and out of my moods and when I'm down I begin to wonder if I shouldn't give normal another chance...because this life of "relaxation" may be hurting me more than helping.  Productivity and being busy and pushing forward makes me happy...but I can't seem to get there on my own.

Even as I write I seem to loose myself in random tangents.  I sat down today in front of this keyboard with a  completely different goal in mind and as I often do, ended up at point G instead of B or C.  Funny how as I write my thoughts transform into something even I wasn't expecting.   Focus, I tell myself but now that I'm here I cannot remember my original destination.  I had no intention of sharing or discussing this topic although it is one I've been toying with for a little while now.  Well, I guess now it's time to stop thinking and pondering and wasting time...and take action.  After all, ACTION is what this is about...and hopefully someday it's the words that my days will be punctuated with.

End scene.