A week in Chicago and all is well

A couple of hours a day spent unpacking, figuring out where things go, and we should be pretty well set up around here—in about a month. The apartment is really coming together, and is starting to feel like home. Pictures are hung, furniture is arranged, and though some boxes haven't been unpacked, I can't see any full ones from where I'm sitting. Progress is being made.

The bad news is that I feel I can only guarantee a job in a bar/restaurant, which a) is exactly what I was doing in Dallas, and b) takes up those night and weekend hours when I'd want to do theatre. The good news is that a) there is a bar/restaurant literally right around the corner from my building, I have lots of experience so they're likely to hire me next week (knock, knock), and b) craigslist has lots of voice-over jobs in this city. So far, it sounds like the same formula I lived with in Dallas, which makes me raise an eyebrow.

But this town is different. Why? Because I say it is. I know it's all in the mind, but it's still the case that here is where I always wanted to be, and here I am. I'm uncomfortable saying I needed to move to make a fresh start, because I like to think I have the mental discipline to be able to do whatever I want wherever I am. If I put it into my head that this was possible in Dallas, then it was. And I'm sure it was, but I wasn't ever doing it—I was just making excuses.

I'm fresh out of excuses. Now all I want is to make something of myself professionally, something I can be proud of. When someone asks, "What do you do?", I want to be able to say that I do something . . . well, important. I don't want to be an actor who does something for money; I want to be an actor. Period.

Maybe I'll get it for Christmas...