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Apathy
2006-11-16 - 11:27 p.m.

Feeling: disheartened
Listening to: Rocky Horror Picture Show
Reading/Watching: Grey's Anatomy, of course

The thing that I am most afraid of is that I don't care anymore.

Not that I will turn in a bad performance, or that a cast member will make a mistake that throws things off (because that happens at least once per show), or that I am wasting so much gas driving all the way there and back each time, just to be ignored during notes, sit quietly in the dressing room, and read the play review in which the cast is described as mumbling their lines unintelligibly, and while the Lady C in the other college's production (going on at the same time) gets a specific mention (and praise), I do not. The one remaining thing I had to hope for (once I realized the theater was so tiny that no one, not even my friends, would be able to come see it) would be that perhaps a reviewer would mention that Meg March as Lady Capulet did an okay job, and maybe those who didn't actually get to see my hard work would read about it and remember my name, even a little, on their next audition sheet.

And today, I turned in a great performance (mostly because when I needed to make myself cry, I would whisper in my mind "I want to go home" and my eyes would obediently fill with tears), and didn't care. I changed out of my costume, removed my makeup, and went about my day, and didn't care at all. I am no longer emotionally invested.

If you know me but at all, you realize I am Emotionally Invested's poster child. If I were a character on Grey's Anatomy, I'd be Izzy Stevens. I am the girl who throws her heart into it, and her soul (and bodily health) usually follows.

But I feel like all my hopes are exhausted. There are so many things I seek to achieve and take away from a theater project, something I hope to learn, something I hope will make me grow, something that will make me seen, a notoriety or a small memory in someone's mind, new friends and new ideas and the rush and the pride in a job well done, even if I don't make a penny (and lose wages due to time off from work).

This morning, I read that review and it was funny how the impact just hit me and... fell. That wasn't the moment I stopped caring, it was merely the moment I realized I had stopped caring. The saddest part? I actually think that might be better, because I've been disappointed enough in the past few months.

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Procrastination finally grows some teeth - 2010-11-29
Necessity: the Mother of Invention - 2010-11-29
Enforced Work Ethic - 2010-11-28
A Week of Perfect Nothings - 2010-11-28
4 more days - 2010-11-27

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