Doing the job

Last night, my acting class did an audition process. SS brought in a producer/writer for CSI to audition us.

He gave us scripts for small roles, saying those would be the ones he would actually bring us in on, and so it was a real audition.

My character was great. A bit womanizer, and fool. It was comedic relief. I thought perfect.

Did it. Felt good. He gave me an adjustment. Felt I did that great too.

Then, after the auditions, he went through each of us and told us honestly how we did.

He told me I seemed nervous. Told me he saw my script shaking. Told me that would not get me the job. They don't want nervous.

I felt like shit.

I keep fucking up when SS brings in the big guns.

I'm worried he may reconsider me for a teaching position if I can't get my acting together.

I just can't seem to let go of my desperation and overwhelming desire. Acting and girls. Two things I love the most and equally, and want more than anything in my life, and just like Lenny from Of Mice and Men, I squeeze the things I love so tight that I ruin them.

Makes me want to just scream.

To my credit, I did go home ready to cry, and I needed to rewrite my sketch. Now, I was NOT feeling funny, or talented.

But, I had no other time to do it, so I forced a change of attitude on myself. And without a drink.

After three hours of sitting in front of the computer, I got it done.

It's all right. Not great, but better than the first. So, there. Now tonight, I need to do the new assignment.

Funny, on demand.

Do the job.