And so, the end of summer... in All Good Things

And the end of my ten-month break from work. So much for quitting my job so happily in April.... God, those two months after I quit with such finality were two of the very happiest months of my entire life. I made so many friends - lifelong, I hope - and enjoyed every single moment of every single day.

I feel sad about returning to my career. Sad that I'm so good at it, sad that it's the only thing that can give me what I want, sad that it destroys my body in the process. I have no idea what's going to happen now. Will I be able to cope with it again? I did really enjoy it. Once. A decade ago. Before it hurt so much. It's been so wonderful living without that constant agonising pain...

I'm really scared, too. Of the pain.

But I thought I'd be willing to settle for a small easy job here in London where I was surrounded by theatre and friends and a happy life....only it turns out I'm not. I do love the life I had where I pop off to various exotic parts of the world at the blink of an eye, where I never have to worry about money, where I can buy anything I want. Is that horrible? Is that greedy and shallow of me?

The thing is, if the physical job didn't HURT so bloody much, I'd still enjoy it, too. There's not much emotional satisfaction in it, but it's still the only job I know which so perfectly satisfies all my requirements for a job, just as it did when I first discovered it 13 years ago....

Shit.

Meanwhile, I didn't manage to split up with Will. I couldn't make myself say it. I've spent the past week basically mute and terrorised inside as I tried to force myself to say it, but I couldn't, not even in writing by email (because he was working all day and I was at the theatre every evening, we didn't see each other much). So we'll be living together for another year. At least I'm going to have the main bedroom to myself, so I'll have some private personal space for the first time in years. That'll help. And I'm probably going to spend a lot of time not at home. As usual.

I just found out this morning that my favourite actor in a certain show is leaving in November. And I'm going to be gone for two of the three months he has left in it - and he only does two shows a week.... I'm really sad. At least I managed to see him three times in the past eight days, which was wonderful, but I'm still so sad. He's leaving just after I get back from the end of the Swan Lake tour in Australia, so I'm going to lose both within a few days of each other.

I hope my body lets me plunge into work through the winter...

Meanwhile, I have to be up at 5am tomorrow to go to Dubai for the next three weeks. I was supposed to be going to Oman as well, but now things might change. I don't really care. I'll be staying in an apartment in Dubai, not a bloody hotel, so I'm very happy to just stay there. It'll be nice to have some days off there for a change, and maybe I can get out to the desert for a while.

Except that I'll be missing at least SIX Brad shows in that time. And a further eight when I'm in Singapore and Australia... Possibly more, since he often fills in for others if they can't do a show.... I actually love watching him so much that I'm sad to be going abroad with my favourite people in the world!!!! Wow.

Okay, I need to pack. Because I'm going to a matinee this afternoon (not Brad, sadly, but at least it's one of my other favourites) to cheer myself up and see Eva for the last time before September. Oh, and Annette and I have somehow fallen out because apparently she never paid attention to all the times in the past nine years that I've mentioned having gone to the US, and has decided she only found out yesterday when I asked her what she was seeing in San Francisco (where she is at the moment) and talked about when I was there just after the earthquake in '89 - and that means I've somehow made a fool out of her and she's furious. Seriously, she's not talking to me. She's talking to Eva in our group WhatsApp chat, but not a single text directed at me! Wtf??? I just don't get it. I asked Eva last night if she knows I've been to the States and she was as baffled as me, because although she's only known me since May she knows I spent several months there when I was 11 and 12, and she even recalled a specific conversation between her, Annette and me where we were talking about it. So, seriously???

Okay, I'm really packing now....