Tunapost 1: am I too old for this?
I am also experiencing a curious ennui about acting generally. As usually happens when I begin a project, I am made aware of all the things I can’t do because I am an actor: go to Quaker meeting, attend weekend events with my kids, participate in volunteer activities. More than ever, I am smarting at the strange professional schedule of actors, which eats up the weekends and gives us Mondays off. Mondays off? Sorry, I have to teach, and the do all the things I couldn’t do on thee weekend because I was rehearsing. I am under-prepared for my week of teaching because by the time I get home, I am too spent to do anything but put the kids to bed.
But perhaps it is larger than that. Perhaps I am finally wearying beneath the endless insecurity of my profession. Now, at 45, I find myself fantasizing about managing a Starbucks, owning a franchise, or driving a bus. A regular schedule, with regular income, and no particular emotional attachment to what I do – it sounds dreamy. My domestic situation is in a state of flux, the swirl of which is stimulated by the unpredictability of my professional life.
Perhaps it is mortality. Perhaps the weariness is the weariness of middle age, and the ennui comes from a creeping sense that now is the time for doing what is essential, what calls to me, what leads me. The phrase “I’m too old for this” has meaning for me now. I’m not too old for Greater Tuna– it’s actually great fun and requires comic bravery and precision which thrills and challenges me. But I sense the clock ticking away, and I wonder . . . how much longer do I have to do the things I really want to do? And what are those things?