You're Supposed to Tell Me I'm Pretty

Lately I have been so busy that I haven't had two minutes to myself. Sure, I make it home and have an hour or so, but usually in that hour I am doing dishes, responding to a myriad of emails (regarding props for all four shows or the focus groups I'm involved with among many other things), trying to clean my house, and find healthy things to eat.

Today, after about 5:45, I actually had the evening to myself. Well, after 8 really. I had to bake two apple pies (because we need the jars for one of the shows--and I am giving away said pies because I'm trying to eat healthier), make salt dough clay (for the same play), answer more emails, clean my apartment again, put away groceries, find more props and all that stuff that mysteriously sucks up time but doesn't show in any meaningful way.

Finally, I found some time for me. And what have I done with it? I've tried to sleep. Sleep has begun to be something that is precious to me, but always hard to find. And now I can't sleep. It's all I want to do, but I'm not sleeping. Because I have discovered that I am far more excited about helping other people make their dreams come true than I am about my own life. If I had a dream for my life that I could MAKE come true, you can bet I'd do all I could. But there is no dream for my life. That I have any kind of control over.

Daniel wants to make music. I'm there. I'll be his manager, set up shows for him, get him a back up group if he wants it, and I'm even hooking him up with a guy that edits and mixes music. His brother wants to play music too, and although I only met his brother once I know that I could get him shows, too. Another friend wants to sell his art. I could set all that up too. I believe in everyone's dreams for their lives and want to be a part of watching them succeed and make their dreams into a reality.

As for me. I just want to sleep.