The art of being burned out

Ginny Meter: the final countdown to vacation

Days until vacation: 6

Energy: Dwindling but still truckin!

Hope for humanity: Damaged today but I have hope for the week.

Enthusiasm for teaching crafts: I’ll give it a 6.5.

There’s a reason I didn’t write yesterday.  And I am letting myself off the hook a little bit since it was the perfect storm of crap days.  If I had written, it probably would have been along the lines of “UUurrrrggggggggggggrraaarrrrrrrr more whiskey.”  Instead of writing, I vented to Helen and Ben and drank some Honey Jack Daniels.

It was so hot in my apartment that the ice made the jack daniels steam. Tried to take a picture.

It hit me that every dime I was busting my ass for wasn’t actually going back to me.  Yes, having a place to live is very important.  I’m glad I have work to even hope for that.  And yet after a 60 hour week, you’d like to think you could at least buy groceries. Or if you do buy groceries, that they don’t mysteriously disappear when you leave them overnight at a friends house…another story for another time.   I’m very lucky to not be in a total jam, but I am longing for the day when I am not just “getting by.”  It’ll happen.  And I will write a happy post about it.

On top of that, my show ended yesterday.  End of shows always = overly emotional Ginny.  The show ended a half hour early because it decided to monsoon.  I sat catatonic at the cast party and shuffled out pretty early because I knew I had to get up at 6 for camp.  And then I crashed.  I was that girl, crying on the 42nd street platform because I was simply having a tantrum.  An ultimate “first world problems, I have too many jobs and bills” tantrum.  I don’t want to go to work, I don’t want to hear the word broker fee, and I most certainly don’t want to be an adult.   It was special.

The tantrum helped.  I let loose to Helen and Ben and realized that I have been burned out many a time and have always lived.  I may be insane after this week, but it ends in a long vacation with the Bartolone’s.  So I will listen to The Final Countdown all week and pray for Sunday.

Also….

Remember that last post about the possible apartment Ben and I found?  And our super nice broker?  Yeah, that’s no more.  This guy set the whole thing up like he was going to bring us around Jersey City tonight and help us find an apartment.  Sucker that I am, I scrambled all weekend and did successfully find extra work on top of my already full time schedule to gather the extra money by the end of the week.  An hour before our appointment today, I got a call from one of his coworkers saying that the place was a dump and we shouldn’t bother.  Oh…and also that with our budget we would never find anything other than “the worst apartment we’ve ever lived in.”  Ummmm aren’t you supposed to be a salesman?  I know I’ve been standing up for Jersey lately, but come on dude, this is New Jersey you’re talking about.  Don’t flatter your area that much by saying “you’ll never find anything but a dump for under 1500.”  That’s cute.

Be ready for “Apartment Hunting: Round 2” and hopefully some more insightful posts soon.  Right now my mind is made of goo.  And craft supplies.

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