I'm an inveterate dreamer, and sometimes I think it's been both my salvation and my curse. Things have been tough lately. Tougher than I'm able to admit in this journal - mostly out of embarrassment - and I have turned, as I have so often in the past, to my rather rich fantasy life for comfort. Sometimes dreaming about what could be makes what is bearable. To a point, I think.
But there are times when it's a hindrance. I was thinking that as I was sitting at my computer a few moments ago. I was listening to some music and rather mindlessly playing solitaire on the computer, dreaming about fame and glory and financial security and other sorts of idiocy. Amy said something rather interesting to me today, and though I don't remember the exact quote, it had something to do with instead of living day by day, living hour by hour. We were talking about my money woes, and whether I would be coming back to Pittsburgh to temp (since it's apparently infinitely easier to get temp work there) until I have to go to Philadelphia in August. And she after having joked about how my current situation really teaches you to live day by day, she also mentioned that when she was in similar straits, that's exactly what she did... instead of wasting time worrying about how powerless she felt in a situation, she would force herself to go out and do something, even if it was a free day at the museum, or a walk in Central Park, or whatever.
And I just realized that as I sat here that I'd suddenly woken up from an afternoon of fantasizing myself away from my poverty and (what seems to me) my desperate situation. And aren't I the one who's always talking about staying awake through my life? Isn't it important to remember that I may be in dire straits, but I'm alive? And since I'm alive, shouldn't I live? Sometimes it embarrasses me and shames me to think about how I wallow in self-pity when there are people out here so much worse off than I am.
There was I guy on the subway a few weeks ago begging for money. He was, he claimed, desperate to raise enough money to get a room at some half-way house or another where they'd evicted him 'cuz he couldn't pay his $6 a day rent. So he was on this campaign to raise the overdue money he owed them. And there I sat, with my last three dollars in my wallet, wondering how I was going to afford my next metrocard, staring at the floor as this man pleaded with me (well, with the car at large, but I'm an actor, so of course I thought it was directed at me) to help him out. And and I couldn't, of course. Certainly if I hadn't been petrified about how I was going to make it through the next week, I'd have gladly given him some spare change, but I was scared myself. Scared that I wasn't too far from being that guy.
But I saw the same guy yesterday on my way to my one-day temp gig. He'd had a chance to clean up. His long, greasy hair had been washed. The filth had been washed from his hands and under his nails, and best of all, he was eating from a Styrofoam container full of Chinese food. I was happy for him and bitter at the same time. I wanted some damn Chinese food, damnit. Or at least I wanted the spare cash in my pocket to go and get Chinese food if I wanted. I've been so paranoid lately about husbanding my remaining money that I've turned into a hermit.
So instead of taking Amy's advice and going out and finding something to engage me instead of dwelling on what I'm powerless to change right now, I did what I typically do. I sat alone in my apartment and fantasized about getting everything I want. And therein lies my conflict. Did I do myself no good by "going away" for a while, or was it the best thing for me - indulging in a little dreaming to pass the time that couldn't be used to change my situation? I mean, I've spent so many years deriding people who go home from work and spend their free time watching television, but is what I'm doing the equivalent of watching the television in my head?
I do have another temp assignment tomorrow, so I'm hoping that those'll keep coming. And though I'm going to strive to not waste my life by sleep-walking through it, I'm not going to give up dreaming of things that can be, okay?
But there are times when it's a hindrance. I was thinking that as I was sitting at my computer a few moments ago. I was listening to some music and rather mindlessly playing solitaire on the computer, dreaming about fame and glory and financial security and other sorts of idiocy. Amy said something rather interesting to me today, and though I don't remember the exact quote, it had something to do with instead of living day by day, living hour by hour. We were talking about my money woes, and whether I would be coming back to Pittsburgh to temp (since it's apparently infinitely easier to get temp work there) until I have to go to Philadelphia in August. And she after having joked about how my current situation really teaches you to live day by day, she also mentioned that when she was in similar straits, that's exactly what she did... instead of wasting time worrying about how powerless she felt in a situation, she would force herself to go out and do something, even if it was a free day at the museum, or a walk in Central Park, or whatever.
And I just realized that as I sat here that I'd suddenly woken up from an afternoon of fantasizing myself away from my poverty and (what seems to me) my desperate situation. And aren't I the one who's always talking about staying awake through my life? Isn't it important to remember that I may be in dire straits, but I'm alive? And since I'm alive, shouldn't I live? Sometimes it embarrasses me and shames me to think about how I wallow in self-pity when there are people out here so much worse off than I am.
There was I guy on the subway a few weeks ago begging for money. He was, he claimed, desperate to raise enough money to get a room at some half-way house or another where they'd evicted him 'cuz he couldn't pay his $6 a day rent. So he was on this campaign to raise the overdue money he owed them. And there I sat, with my last three dollars in my wallet, wondering how I was going to afford my next metrocard, staring at the floor as this man pleaded with me (well, with the car at large, but I'm an actor, so of course I thought it was directed at me) to help him out. And and I couldn't, of course. Certainly if I hadn't been petrified about how I was going to make it through the next week, I'd have gladly given him some spare change, but I was scared myself. Scared that I wasn't too far from being that guy.
But I saw the same guy yesterday on my way to my one-day temp gig. He'd had a chance to clean up. His long, greasy hair had been washed. The filth had been washed from his hands and under his nails, and best of all, he was eating from a Styrofoam container full of Chinese food. I was happy for him and bitter at the same time. I wanted some damn Chinese food, damnit. Or at least I wanted the spare cash in my pocket to go and get Chinese food if I wanted. I've been so paranoid lately about husbanding my remaining money that I've turned into a hermit.
So instead of taking Amy's advice and going out and finding something to engage me instead of dwelling on what I'm powerless to change right now, I did what I typically do. I sat alone in my apartment and fantasized about getting everything I want. And therein lies my conflict. Did I do myself no good by "going away" for a while, or was it the best thing for me - indulging in a little dreaming to pass the time that couldn't be used to change my situation? I mean, I've spent so many years deriding people who go home from work and spend their free time watching television, but is what I'm doing the equivalent of watching the television in my head?
I do have another temp assignment tomorrow, so I'm hoping that those'll keep coming. And though I'm going to strive to not waste my life by sleep-walking through it, I'm not going to give up dreaming of things that can be, okay?
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