Microblog Mondays: Praying for Tuesday

Microblog_MondaysNo, I haven’t heard back on that callback.  Blech.  Moving on.  I have also been coughing for weeks.  Then I started hacking up discoloured phlegm.  I coughed so much that I could barely sleep.  I went to the walk in clinic and they prescribed an inhaler.  Didn’t work.  I stopped doing it and it seemed to get better, so much so that I could actually sleep.  And during the temp job it started up again and I’m hacking up half a lung and feel like crap.  Couldn’t figure it out, was it a sinus infection, allergies, asthma?  Went back to the clinic and the doctor there saw me for 45 seconds and waved me out with a requisition for a chest x ray and sputum test.

And speaking of moving on, today is my last day at that temp job.  I would have liked the first day that I started to be my last day frankly.  Not good.  Let’s say it was a challenging week.  One of a temp’s nightmares is when people actually expect you to know how to do everything perfectly – without actually showing you how to do it.  Or where things are.  Or read minds.  Took me to Thursday to figure out they actually wanted to go get the mail downstairs – there was a key in the drawer – unlabelled – much like the supply cabinets keys.  I was also responsible for doing technical things on an in house program that is industry specific. I found out eventually that the office manager, who is the owner’s wife, doesn’t have a good rapport with many people and they had been through many receptionists.  I got to know her a little bit and found out there was a softer side and so I made it my mission to just try to please her, not take her dour disposition personally.  You know, bring her water, make jokes.  Everyone has a Buddha nature right?  The agency asked me to do just one more day; the permanent person starts tomorrow.  Good luck, honey.

Microblog Mondays – Me and an actual job? Nope.

Microblog_MondaysRemember when I was eager to get a temp job?  Well, when it looked like it might happen, I freaked out because I had just gone back to acting classes.  My coach takes commitment very seriously.  And then I got over it, took a job for a week, because really what was I doing anyway that was making me money?  Nuthin’.  And it might even be fun dealing with grownups again! Ahem.  Nope.   And then I got an unexpected callback…tomorrow.  And I won’t have the car so I’ve arranged to have the sitter pick me up (once I explain to the president of the company why I have leave early) and take me.  Wanna take bets if I last the week?

The best laid plans of underemployed actresses…..

Hello insecurities, there you are!

Okay, I’m done with FB.  I gotta find something else to do at night.  I was feeling bummed at not getting acting work and then I read about actors I know getting work – actually posting a clip on Facebook, agents announcing clients’ bookings and actors posting about getting a callback to a film I auditioned on Friday with one of the most brilliant actors out there (William H. Macy); just heard his name the on the View while I was at the dentist (gack, grrr, bad gums). I could actually feel my mood sink into the floor.  A lot of childless/infertile people are annoyed to see a parade of kids in their newsfeed.   I’m annoyed to see other actors post about their latest gigs.  I don’t resent their success in the slightest, I really like those people or they wouldn’t be on my FB at all.  It just highlights my own insecurity, my own failings.  I want to be in the club of working actors, dammit, it’s fun there!   Then I had a dream last night about my agent hosting a reading to a film that I never had an audition for!  And yes, my peers were in it.

I went back to acting class on Friday.  I was quite hesitant but I really missed going. Anyway, I go and I meet this one actor for the first time and (talking about the web series that I’m doing) says “Oh, you’re the person  next to insert well known BFF’s name!”  I shit you not.  Here I was feeling invisible, needy, lonely and this complete stranger refers to me as the person standing next to the woman he does know, but he used both her names which implies not a friendship but rather a professional acknowledgement.  I replied rather frostily, “Yes, I’m Death Star, that was me.”

The last person I want to talk to is my agent.  The only feedback I want to hear coming from her mouth is that I booked a gig.  The most pathetic thing I used to do as an actor was call my agent every week and chit chat about all the movies in town that don’t have me in it.  (I called my agent anyway.  She’s trying to save me for bigger roles apparently.  I think she said that to make me feel better. I asked her to get feedback from a big audition last week and she said, oh, that casting director is so busy but I’ll try.)

Update:  the temp agency called and I took the job.  I’m hoping it’s just for one week (so I only miss one acting class) but it could be two. I could use the money.  It’s not far from where I live, but of course, it’s 45 minutes by bus and 10 minutes by car.  And now DH is starting up another job which will require some childcare…which we worked out.  Ah, so now I’ve joined the ranks of those who do this all the time.  I will also have to notify my agent that I will be unavailable for a bit.  I’m kind of nervous, I haven’t been in office in years but I’m also excited because I’m going to meet new people and hopefully it will be a good experience for everyone concerned.

Microblog Mondays – March break mess

Microblog_MondaysI survived March break…barely.  2 weeks!  Seriously?!  The first week pretty good, everyone slept in because of the time change and Boo and I enjoyed a nice bike ride along the beach on the west side with a couple of mums and their kids.  The weather was great.  It was such a nice break from the monotony of the school week routine. I also had my inlaws visit for 3 days.  I did have to work 2 out of the 3 evenings but I made pot roast (meh) and vegetarian shepherd’s pie (didn’t tell them), plus a red velvet cake and dietetic apple crumble ahead of time. At the end of the week, Boo had a chance to spend some time with his cousins and have a sleepover and he really enjoyed himself.

The 2nd week was looooong.  Boo was in a gymnastics spring break camp but I had missed the morning spots (enrolling your child in activities takes cat like reflexes apparently) and so he was occupied for 3 hours in the afternoon.  Unfortunately this precluded arranging play dates as our mornings were slow to start and the dog had to be walked and then back for lunch (or rather arguing about eating lunch) before the class and then back home because hubby was working nights on set and Boo wanted to spend time with him before he left.  Oh, and did I mention while roughhousing, he lost one of his bottom teeth and the other one came out the next day?  I had to fake not being nauseous.  (I have such a tooth phobia. Ugh.)  Also I spent most mornings wrangling a tornado kid so he wouldn’t disturb his sleeping dad (that didn’t really work).  I also had two auditions that I had to get ready for, drive to and then get back across the bridge by pickup time.  I started to have flashbacks of being my former self 24/7 mum who raced through the preschool hours trying to get stuff done existing solely on coffee and snack bars.  It was not pretty. The dog had to get walked, the kid had to be entertained every waking moment he was with me, I’m running back and forth playing with him and trying to make dinner (no, 2 dinners, as he wanted only mac and cheese).  I only made it twice to the gym in 2 weeks.  A friend of mine sent me a link to do an Oprah/Deepak Chopra 21 meditation journey.   Ahahahah!

Best moment:  playing the tooth fairy 2 times.  I had to dig under Boo’s pillow and his big heavy head to get the tooth and replace it with a toonie ($2). He asked me the next day why I was trying to get into his pillow.  “I opened my eyes and I saw you but you didn’t see me.” “I was just checking to see if the Tooth Fairy had been there.  By the way, I smelled flowers last night, did you smell them?  It was like roses.”  “It was the Tooth Fairy!”

Priceless.

Microblog Mondays – Whose story is it anyway?

Microblog_MondaysI came across this post  (and this post just sat in the draft folder for a year), “You’re Not My Real Mother”  on Motherlode while reading something else and I just had to read it. It is seemingly about the comment that adoptive mothers don’t want to hear one day but presumably will and what should be said in response and what should not.  I say seemingly because it really wasn’t about that, it was more about the author’s perspective on how she deals with a daughter that has (had?) reactive attachment disorder and the effect on her parenting.  And at the precise moment her tween daughter spat out that comment, she replied, “Oh, yeah, well then who is?”  Ouch. I’ll tell you what was enlightening – the comments and shitstorm that followed that article.  Usually comments are just so vitriolic that I can’t bear to read past 3 or 4, but these ones were really interesting, thought provoking and eloquent.  Frankly, I would have loved to see a panel discussion from those commenters.

First of all, I was really surprised that the author hadn’t figured out how to handle the situation she said she knew was coming one day.  She certainly isn’t uninformed.   Okay, well, no one is perfect and we all say things we regret to our kids, but how that moment played out was solely about her hurt feelings and not about her daughter’s feelings.  In fact her daughter had to comfort her.  From the day I brought my son home, I have pondered and researched how I should explain adoption to him, how to tell him the story of his life before us. From the moment he recognized that he was not the same colour as his daddy, the explanations began. I have already imagined various reactions to the moment he blurts out hurtful things in anger.  I have wondered how he will feel about his adoption as he grows older, how it will affect him, how he will feel and what I can do to help him discover who he truly is.  I don’t have all the answers of course, and I can’t certainly tell him how to feel.

Over the course of this last year, there were many developments with my son’s birth mother but I did not publish them.  They were things that were highly personal and had nothing to do with me, though would definitely impact him later in life.

I think writers should write about their lives, the good, bad and the ugly, but when it comes to adopted children, I’m not so sure parents should trot some of the more personal out there?  What do you think?

Microblog Mondays – Spring in my step

Microblog_MondaysThe last couple of weeks, I went easy on my gym routine.  Just did one spin class and then just took the dog for her usual walks. I was just worn out.  I had a bunch of little annoying things to do so I did those.    Last Thursday, I found myself stripping the bed, doing laundry, and vacuuming most of the house.  Nothing unusual about this really.  Except it was 5:30pm and I’m usually exhausted and bitter by then.  So I must be feeling better!!!!  Yay!  I noticed a bit of spring in my step when I was walking Juju.  The kind that says yep, maybe I can actually run a little without feeling like my legs are made of stone.  The weather has been spectacular – blue skies, warm temps, sunshine – and it certainly does pick up my spirits.

DH and I have been talking a little bit more as well.  We went for a dog walk and I communicated that he needed to pay more attention to me.   I’ve lost track of the times his phone/TV suddenly held more interest to him in the middle of whatever I was saying.  Most dramatically, when we went to Disneyland and his mum had Boo in her room for the night so we could have the whole night to go out for dinner, etc.  We return at 9pm and he gets his mum to come to our room and recaps the evening with her!  So romantic, eh?  Hardly worth putting on makeup and high heels for.  Shit like that has been happening for so long that I just got used to it and gave up.  Not useful behaviour if you actually want to enjoy your married life. I’m finding it challenging to let go of the permafrost around my heart, though. What are my intentions and what is it that I need to do to keep sane? Clearly taking care of my health during this time in my life is crucial.   I keep thinking about Christiane Northrup and what she said here. But that’s another post for another day.

His business is starting to take off (safety on movie sets) and he’s really having fun and interested in what he’s doing.  However, having been in this business for 20 years or so, I know the busy times are cyclical and it’s just a matter of time before things die down and then what? Not to mention the crazy fluid hours which makes it incredibly difficult for me to take work during the day.  One minute hubby says he’s only on set for 4 hours and then suddenly it’s 8 hours. Or more. Now when he had a regular office job and I was on set, it was no problem because he could be flexible with his time.  I think a better angle would be for me to hustle up more transcription work.  I was really looking forward to getting out of the house but it would be more flexible.   Most of our stress is purely financial and it’s hard to admit that at our age we’re struggling while our peers are living more secure and stable lives. The temp agency hasn’t really panned out for me yet. I’m eyeing up the kid’s piggy bank while I wait for cheques in the mail.

But you know what, I’m feeling so much better, that I’m just going to take a chill pill, enjoy the sun and do daimoku.

Microblog Mondays: Is it Monday yet?

Microblog_MondaysI’ve spent most of the week fretting about diabetes.  Googling symptoms;  when they say increased thirst, do they mean wanting a glass of water at 10pm or  do they mean drinking litres and litres of water (which I don’t)? But I should be drinking lots of water, right?  I certainly have the fatigue. But is that due to adrenal fatigue or diabetes?  And I pee a lot especially if I have coffee or tea.  I know, I know, it’s a diuretic.  See how I’m driving myself nuts?

Then again, I felt better as of Friday.  A little bit more pep to my step on my walks with the dog. For the first time, I didn’t feel like my legs were as heavy as trees.  Yet I don’t feel up to hiking more than 45 minutes.  There is another walk we could do that is an easy 5k walk, but it’s up hill.  On the other hand, I went to bed at 1am Saturday and then slept (til I had to get up and pee at 7am and then a woodpecker on my deck started up but I fell back asleep) til after 10am (Boo was overnighting it with his cousins).  That was a rare and heavenly event!  Of course, I was moody when I woke up. I felt like I had wasted the morning just trying to get going and before I knew it, those tedious things like laundry and meal preparation were waiting for me. I swear to god I wish I could just open up my freezer and see a week’s worth of healthy food all ready to go. I didn’t get much of anything done other than a nice dog walk and I made delicious curried lentil soup and even gave some to my downstairs neighbour.

Hubby and I finally got around to visiting my mum’s storage locker.  You don’t want to know how much it has cost her to keep over the last 10 years, but it always seemed to be something preventing me from actually clearing it out.  It was overwhelming and always leaves me feeling sad.  The way she had packed is so chaotic, it’s hard to separate what to keep and what to throw away.  Previously we had gone through and donated a ton of clothes, but there’s still so much more.  We need to dedicate a full 8 hour day to go through all the boxes.  What do I do with the art work (probably not worth anything), the old plastic covered furniture?  I know we will call in one of those junk companies that remove stuff for you and the rest I will ship to my sister and I will keep whatever.  That visit really brought me down and I guess it’s been on my mind.  Anyways, by the end of March, it will be done.  Now that Boo is in school, I’ll just move that up to the top of my list of crappy things to do.  I know I will feel better once it’s done.  It’s like carrying someone else’s karma in the wheelbarrow of my own.