Sunday, February 28, 2010

One Day Away From Death

Whew. That was exciting. I just wrote a lovely little rant about my theatre woes. So glad I got that off my chest.

Long story short--this coming week I'll be at school from 7:30 to probably well past 10:30 due to both classes and the ever-so-lovely school play that I would love to quit. To put this in perspective, I usually go to sleep around 8:00 or earlier, and if I don't, I usually crash around 8:30. So that's just going to be lovely. On top of that, I'm getting sick.

But I am absolutely not complaining, because this is me being POSITIVE about the play. Because I am a POSITIVE person. And I am POSITIVE I will end up deathly ill or worse because of this stupid play that I stupidly allowed myself to be talked out of quitting by both my director and a few drama nerd friends. I miss being a drama nerd. My school's drama program has slowly but steadily sapped away my love of theatre. Likely, this will be the last school play I ever audition for. I totally just depressed myself.

Anyway, I'm really trying to be positive about things (hard to tell, huh?). It's kind of hard for me under normal circumstances, though, and I've felt miserable for the past two days. And I'm so not looking forward to this coming week. I'm only half-convinced I'm going to die from it, but that half is quite extremely convinced of it.

On a lighter note, my writing's going semi-okay-ish. I got an idea for a short story that I think I can actually handle writing, and I might just get around to it and the other two shorts I've been thinking about during all my off-stage time at the uber-long rehearsals coming up. Man, am I wordy.

I got pretty harsh in my review of some pieces submitted to the school's literary magazine, which I'm on the staff of. (That sentence sounds really awkward.) The funny thing is, though, it was only harsh because I was too tired to censor myself. Usually, I write down every strong point I see and only point out one or two of the weakest points. Today, going through the packet, I just wrote down every weak point. Every strong point, too, but I think I was a little too tired and frustrated to notice the points I usually would have. It didn't help that I hadn't taken my antidepressants yet. In retrospect, not the greatest idea, but to be fair, I was perfectly fine when I started on the packet. However, reading endless pages of grammar-mistake-laden prose can really fray my nerves, no matter how good said prose is when looking beyond the mechanics. Number one strong point in the pieces: good voice.

I also realized I get way more technical with my criticisms and praise with the lit mag submissions than anyone else does. Maybe it comes from having frequented writers' forums for the past, I dunno, four or five years, and obsessively reading writing articles. Too bad I didn't write as much as I read about writing. Then maybe I'd have a good-sized working portfolio.

I feel cynical. Man, I hate Sunday nights. Too close to Monday.

This rant has been brought to you by the letter I.

1 comment:

  1. Man, I feel your pain. The Late Sunday Afternoon Dread descends on me often. I deal with it by ridiculing my cat, calling him all sorts of names and letting him know how worthless he is. He's my whipping cat. Do you have a cat? If not, I suggest getting one just so you have something to take it all out on Sunday nights. :)