Thursday, January 29, 2009

What next?

The important thing, Ronna tells me, is to breathe and remain calm. It's not an insurmountable workload if I stay ahead of it, assign stories early, and stay organized.

This is all sound advice. But why am I still shaking and swallowing back tears of dread? It's not the work. I mean, it is. They are expecting me and Janet to each handle the workload of three editors, plus they want us to keep writing. That's too much work, but if I have to, I'll find a way to do it. Quality just won't be as high, but that's the bed the paper's managers made for themselves. So fuck 'em.

What I really worry about is this. This right here. My REAL work. How am I supposed to keep writing my plays and how am I supposed to survive the rehearsal processes for UnE and OP4P when my day job is becoming an ever-expanding, energy-sucking parasite? I have a rule to never bring work from the paper home on the weekends or at night unless I absolutely have to with no alternative. So, I don't. And I can't start. And I won't start. My life outside of the paper has to remain sacred. I have to carve out time for the theater, or I'm not actually me anymore. Am I?

It is better to be overworked and under appreciated than to be downsized. I know that. But what a shame that my plays and all the goodness associated with these projects is getting tarnished by this horrible stress and fear. So much for 2009 being my year.

Maybe I should write a sequel to UnE about The Company falling on hard financial timesand down-sizing all the remaining characters because it blew too much of its reserve savings on the ethics project. Art imitates life again.

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