Just One Day
When will I be able to escape office drudgery?
It's a question I pose to myself every hour of every day. In weary tones, I roll out my usual self-consolations. I am building a sustainable career. I am singing more now. I am writing and rehearsing a lot. I shouldn't be ashamed of needing to earn money while I do it.
Sometimes this works. Some days I can just accept the inevitability of menial office work because I have such a clear understanding of why I'm doing it.
Other days (like today) it does not.
I can feel my resilience ebb away as I am patronised and condescended to. The loss of self-esteem is not irrevocable, I know that, but it is enough to make hot tears of self-loathing bubble up and temporarily blur my ability to visualise a time when life will not be like this.
Yesterday I was wearing a red dress and I was singing. The sun shone as we played and then, in our breaks, lounged on the grass under the azure skies. In my capacity as a singer, as a musician, I felt happy. Natural.
Today, once again, I am sombre in black. I grudgingly do work I hate and feel the thrill of yesterday fade away. I am not natural here. I do not belong. I try to cajole myself out of my stupor by mentally compiling the set list for the gig on Wednesday, then focusing on what I would like to achieve from the rehearsal tomorrow night. Tonight I must finish off some lyrics and record some songs in preparation. I trudge through the repetitive, vacuous work and try think of places to sing, people to contact.
It doesn't help today. I am sucked back to the monotonous, grey world I inhabit against my will and the ache in my stomach returns. The ache grows from whatever passion it is that will not allow me to give up. It is a passion that can also turn sour and angry.
I resent my introspection, knowing it has no value. London is an expensive city, and I do not yet earn enough through music to properly be able to take part in its splendours. I can and do reason it out all the time, both to myself and to others.
Today, though, it doesn't work. I don't want to have to endure the sombre anymore. I hate it, and it hates me.
My energy ebbs, and I wait for my self-esteem to return.
posted by Léonie at 3:05 pm
5 Comments:
You will escape. You will, you will.
And you'll be famous. And you'll forget all about us little people :(
5:47 pm
NC - Thank you. I will escape, you're right. In fact, I am going to start digging the tunnel today.
When I am rich and famous, and have magically morphed into being naturally thin and healthily tanned, I will of course forget everyone I know. I will then have some kind of experience which makes me reconsider my priorities (this experience may or may not involve a puppy, I haven't decided) and we will all have a tearful reunion. We will then all be naturally thin and healthily tanned forever.
9:55 am
In time, things will come around. I know, I'm tired of hearing that line, too... At least you are working towards achieving your dream, and not letting it gather dust on a shelf. That in itself is very admirable.
And if you are digging a tunnel, may I suggest a lightweight spoon? Forget those pesky tools called shovels; For escaping, a spoon works best.
12:51 pm
I know. I know.
7:57 am
In times like these, I say think of ponies.. and the pony I'll send you when I am rich and famous from MY band.. tho yours is kajillion times more original since we're just doing covers.. but still.. maybe one day that could mean we'll sing together and give each other knowing glances that singing peers do and all that.. Well, I can imagine anyway.. Hang in there sugar! xo
7:06 am
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