A Note of Frustration

So I hate to post literally one day after the previous one. I HATE doing that.

Here's the thing, kids.
I just spent a half an hour sobbing in my car. And why? Because, ladies and gentlemen (pardon my language) because everything I touch turns to shit. It seems to me, especially in theatre. My show opens this week. And of all of the things I built for this particular show, most of them have to be remade. Because I don't know how to do anything correctly. My grades are in shambles. I am not in good standing with my peers.

Maddie told me the news, and I held it together just long enough to make it to my car. And then I cried. Harder than I've cried in a really long time. I've put in so much work and none of it has come to fruition. Not to mention, in order to get my grades up, I'm going to have to work just as hard. IT NEVER ENDS. I never get to relax. All of it was meaningless. None of it matters. So why the *&%$ did I work so hard?

I don't know. Why can't I just succeed? Am I epitome of big fish in a little pond? Was I only successful before because there was so little to be had in Morgan? Probably. And that stings.

So, here's the thing, kids. I am just going to go back to work. I'm going to do my best to repair what I can. And then, I'm going to bed. At 6, I am going to bed.

And I'll do my best to not think about my failures.
So until then, I'll just keep listening to this.