Since I woke up this morning, almost all I have been able to talk about with Ben is how bizarre the week has been, but in a wonderful way. He wholeheartedly agreed.
Last week at this time, I was on my way into a rut, one of the ruts I’ve found myself in a lot over the last several years. Whenever I feel myself approaching that mood, the sense of dread that comes along with it is nearly as bad as the mood itself, sometimes worse. I know, counterproductive. For many reasons, these stretches of general frustration with the world have been getting shorter and shorter over the past few years. This week, I had a few miracles to snap me out of it, and I am very thankful for that.
I mentioned in my last post that I would share tips on making it through the unemployment slump, or whatever slump you may be in. This time around, my advice is, “Go to the party, even if you don’t have a dress.” I realize this doesn’t make sense to everyone reading (the men who don’t wear dresses to parties. If you do, that’s cool too) but give me a second to explain and you’ll catch my drift. I was invited to a fundraising party by Ben for one of his friends from Circle in the Square who is starting a theatre company. Since my brain was making every molehill into a mountain last week (is that the expression? I’ve never seen a molehill), I instantly began to stress that I had nothing to wear and would feel out of place. If you know me, this isn’t like me. I don’t give a hoot about fashion. I was actually upset about being broke, stressed, and anxious about new social events but was taking it out on my lack of cocktail attire. By Thursday, my teaching day, I was so ready to pull my hair out that I hit the threshold of stress and my brain slowed down. It stopped panicking because it had to. I simply didn’t have the energy to over analyze my life anymore that week. The clouds parted just long enough for me to throw on a simple dress and go with Ben to the party.
When walking in the door of the apartment on 57th street, I asked Ben how his friends lived in such a fancy building. At which he answered, “Ginny, I’ve told you this. This is Adam Guettel’s apartment, the guy who wrote Light inthe Piazza. This building was one of Richard Rodger’s homes.” Yes, he had told me, but I have the memory of a goldfish, so here I was. Luckily, it was too late for me to run from the building screaming about being underdressed so instead my eyes bugged out and we went up the fancy elevator. Without going into endless details (if you’d like any, give me a ring!), the place was breathtaking, the people were very sweet and welcoming, and I drank A LOT. I mean, rare form Ginny. I received texts the next day from Helen and Claire simply saying “Please look at our text history from last night.” After about 11pm, I was only writing very enthusiastic gibberish. For example:
The best part of the night is that it was exactly what I needed to rejuvenate my hope in the theatre world. Successful people are, at the end of the day, regular people. If they pretend they aren’t, well, then they’re no fun to party with. And as I’ve observed, a large ego only gets you so far. The next day, I had one of the worst but well-earned hangovers of my life. I stumbled through my morning and was exhausted by the afternoon. I fell asleep immediately at home and woke up in a wonderful mood 13 hours later. Because of my newly discovered motivation, I ended up with a last minute babysitting job off of sittercity with a very sweet family (who also turned out to be Broadway composers…again with the Twilight Zone) and I am on my way to no longer being financially screwed!
The moral of the story is that there is only so stressed out you can be about a particular problem before your brain calms down and you just have to take the invitation to leave the couch. Even if your pessimism comes with you on the train to where you’re going, it most likely won’t come back with you.
ALSO! I will leave you with a breakfast I made Ben and I on day two of our happy hangover:
Sweet Potato Hash Browns
I had one sweet potato left over from Trader Joe’s so put it in a pan with a tiny bit of butter, a good shake of paprika, salt, a clove of chopped and sauteed garlic, and the tiniest of bit of curry because, why not. These were a whole new world of hash browns. Try them if you haven’t:) Healthy-ish, and did the job.
I threw a fried egg on the side and BAM! No more extended hangover.
I will end with this: At the beginning of the night, I commented on a chair in the lobby of the Richard Rodgers building that looked like a throne. I said, with no idea what state I would be in on the way out, “Please take my picture in the chair as were leaving.” Well, we remembered to take the picture, though I don’t remember having it taken. Have a good week everyone!
2 responses to “When a Weird Week is a Good Thing”
Gin, this is hilarious!
I love these kinds of stories!