I am a playwright. I write plays. Create theater.
So what happens when I cancel a show that I wrote? And read long guilt trip texts from my now-super-pissed director? And write apology emails to the entire cast, and the people running the theater? Am I still a playwright then?
What am I when I completely lose my inspiration and don’t want to do this anymore? When thinking about it makes me heavy with dread?
If I’m not a playwright, do I become No Longer Interesting? Do I find something new to do? Some way to be creative that actually feels fun?
I don’t know. But when a lot of people are angry, you tend to just mostly feel like a goblin who has ruined everyone’s time.
Okay so I haven’t wanted to talk too much about this on here but my job has become completely unbearable. I’ve been here for just over 2 months, and while the people are nice and the work is fine, the boundaries are nonexistent. Work late nights. Work on the weekend. Work on vacation. Live to work. And with a micromanager of a boss who is constantly overcommunicating. Pings you at 9 am to get back to him ASAP. Asks you to let him know when you’ve seen his message.
This job is taking me away from this time with my parents. It’s affecting my sleep. It’s driving me insane and I cry all the time.
It’s not. Fucking. Worth it.
I’m talking to HR tomorrow about moving to a different team. And I’m talking to a recruiter, who wants me to interview with 4 different companies who are hiring.
In the meantime I am fantasizing about the moment when I can just tell them all to take this job and fuck off.
I want to do it tomorrow. Nothing is worth this kind of work. This is how people get sick. This is not worth it. I do not live to work.
And that is fucking okay.
Feels good to let it out here.