A huge growing fatigue has settled itself atop my shoulders. It’s really interesting how being unemployed can be part laziness and part exhaustion. Maybe I should restate that: Looking for a job can make one weary.
It’s also amazing how many people I have seen that I remember but don’t know very well. I suppose when you went to one of the local colleges, were exposed to oodles of other students, and than dabbled in the theater you’re bound to run into vaguely familiar faces. For example:
1 Ariana, a girl I worked at Starbuck in Dillon, CO almost FIVE years ago. I saw her walking on Capitol Hill. She didn’t recognize me, and I let it go.
2 Travis, a video editor from a production company I used to work at. It was the only place I’ve ever been fired from, and even though we got along, how do you approach someone with that history?
3 A few random dancers from various departments, classes, and shows. No one I can remember specifically. But there is a familiarity with each of their faces.
4 A girl I did a monologue project with six years ago was sitting inside a Rudy’s Barbershop. I didn’t remember her name; I just remember that her monologue was about her being a straight woman supporting the gay rights movement.
Perhaps it’s the idea that I want to, in fact, reinvent a new life here. That my old life doesn’t really exist, because…I don’t know. Things are so different now. Colorado mellowed me, took the edge off, removed my street smarts and cred, (assuming I ever really had them). With age, I’ve settled into old comforts. Taking the bus is not a comfort, not after the spoiled luxury of driving a car around. But when I was 19, I took it in stride, taking the bus was IT, and I was fine with that. Occasionally, I’d find a way out of the city, on a ferry somewhere traveling to Bainbridge and I would feel an immense lift. A break from the city was always really nice and welcome.
Josh always claimed that Fort Collins was making us old. And looking at my response to moving back to Seattle, I’m inclined to agree. Here I am, Saint Patrick’s Day, still sick and opting out. Preferring to stay home for the better of my health? What?! Am I crazy? Since when did I care so much about a good night’s sleep?!
And it’s not like I’m pining for the days of mountain views and vast open wasteland. (In fact, I constantly felt like the Colorado scenery was being wasted on me). Somehow there has to be a mix of comfort and convenience within this city scene. A crazy drunk is just a crazy drunk. My old roommate Dena was telling me about this lady who rides the bus and meows the whole time. People will get on the bus and hear the meowing and look around for a cat. When they see it’s just a crazy lady making cat noises, they get kinda embarrassed.