Just Like A Real Life Adult

I started my office job this week—well, sorta. Three days in, and we have yet to do a lick of work. That's okay, we get paid either way. And it's much cooler than any of us thought it would be. We're on the 28th floor in downtown Chicago, with a full wall of window that gives a view of the lake and (if I stand up) the river. I have my own work e-mail account, and my own phone with my own number and my own voice mail. We understood this is pretty long term for a temp position, but it's strange to us how much we get treated like this is more important and permanent than the data entry position it really is. My office has just me and one other guy, who's also a movie buff, which gives us no end of conversation topics during the eight hours a day we sit and do nothing. Next week will probably be different, though.

It's still fun getting to be a bouncer, too. It's a completely different work environment, and I get to toss drunken idiots out for almost the exact same pay (which is not good, but at least it's something) as when I sit at a computer all day. Each of these jobs is keeping me from stressing out about the other. Then again, one job is 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., and the other is 7 p.m. until 2 a.m. It's a good thing I don't do the night one very often, or I'd been two steps from dead by now.

But so far, it seems Chicago is being good to me, though the good parts come at the last possible moment. I'm doing what I should have done six years ago, and while it feels good to finally be doing it, I'm a little stressed over the fact that I haven't done this before now. But I try to ignore that which I cannot change.

It usually works.

Is it my turn yet?

The office job doesn't start until next Wednesday; fortunately, the Cubs did just well enough to let me work a few more days at the bar, so I was able to keep my head above water and keep most of the bill collectors off my back for another month.

I wonder how long I'm going to live like this? Credit card debt has trampled me for years, and I never figure out how to get it gone. It only ever gets worse. Obviously, I never learned what to do with my money properly when I had it. Now I'm making half what I used to and I'm still able to stay afloat, if barely—this means the last nine years I worked in Dallas I could have been putting half my income at my debt, into savings, or what have you, and never have to worry about money again.

Why is it we only figure out what we should have BEEN doing instead of what we should BE doing?

Am I going to figure it out before I die? Does anyone? Or do they just get lucky?

I'm glad to be up here with Heather, that's a fact. She's helping me out with rent—a fact that shames me a bit, but makes me honored to be with her. She knows how many times I sacrificed going after a career because of the impact it has on my financial situation, so she's making sure I don't have a lack of money as an excuse to not go out and audition for things in the evenings.

I'm worried, I'm scared, and I'm stressed, yet I am more fortunate than others.

Running Headlong Into My New Life

Ah, blessed be the job opportunities.

In spite of the fact that I had no income, I kept hitting the local bar once a week for a) my sanity and b) networking. Both things occurred, and now I have two jobs.

The first one started Friday night. I'm a bouncer at a place called Bernie's. It's literally across the street from Wrigley Field (about a 10 minute walk from my apartment), and it's been there for 50 years. It's amazing, too, because the Cubs are winning. They haven't won a championship in 99 years, yet they have an incredible fan base. I've never cared anything for sports, but being in a room with 100 people shouting, cheering, and sharing a joy over their victory on Friday was infectious. No one alive has seen them win a championship, and now they have a real shot. It's making a fan out of me, slowly but surely—I've had the song "Go Cubs Go" in my head for two days.

On Monday morning, I start training for my office job. Five days a week from 8 to 5, then a few (3 or 4) days a week as a bouncer for some extra cash means I'm going to keep my sanity as well as the roof over my head. Each of these jobs is going to counteract the other, and I'm going to have three things I haven't had since I got here: a reason to be out of the house for more than 2 hours at a time; a social outlet; money. I'm breathing the first sigh of relief I've had since I got here.

In other news, my debit card was cloned and someone charged $600 at a Wal-Mart in Islandia, New York, my computer died and is at the Best Buy repair center until God knows when, and Sunday is my last day off for at least two weeks. But those are just inconveniences.

Searching

I gave up on the teacher's aide thing. They seemed to want far too much of a commitment from me than what I wanted to give. And frankly, I have a college degree--I can't accept less than $10 an hour until I get more desprate, rewarding though the work may be. I'm still doing Mad Science, though, it's extremely part-time.

I got in with a temp company, too. The only job they have at the moment starts October 1st and runs through the end of the year. It's an 8 to 5 office job, data entry. Sounds boring, but it pays. In fact, sitting in that environment for that many hours a day sounds like my own personal vision of Hell.

As long as I get what I want in the end, right? Maybe it'll lead to something better, and maybe it'll just kill time until the better thing rears its head.

Versatility

So I may become an educator. I applied (and was accepted for) Mad Science, a program that teaches one hour science lessons to grade schools. It's just like the elementary school chemistry shows we put on when I was in high school, only I get paid for it. A little.

I also have a lead as a teacher's aide at a school for emotionally disturbed children. If I get it, it doesn't pay well, but it pays enough. Most importantly, it's a day job. Leaves plenty of time in the evenings and weekend for theatre type things.

I'm trying. Swear to God I am.

Getting Nervous

So I haven't worked in a month. This would be much cooler if I wasn't living on a dwindling supply of borrowed cash. I've turned in a half-dozen applications, but even the people saying they're hiring (via Craigslist) don't look twice at me. I think I can make it another month, *possibly* two, before I run completely out of cash, but I'll be whoring myself before that happens.

Mostly, I'm just bored. It's a good thing I'm comfortable in this apartment, because I'm never gone from it for more than about three hours at a time. I watch movies & downloaded TV shows. I play with my cat. I'm happy my furniture is all comfy. And sometimes I seriously consider going for a jog or something before I think better of it and do something else. I'm even embarrassed to call my friends who live here in town, because I can't think of anything to do that doesn't involve coming over and watching TV, because that's all I do all day anyway.

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...