-January of 2004 started out with Centre term and The Yellow Boat. It was an amazing experience, and made me think that I might want to do props as a job. The show itself was a joy to work on, and the end product was so powerful.
-Also in January, my need for companionship drove me to acquire Fish, my first betta. He’s still going strong–moved all the way up to a 10 gallon tank–and he provided many things for me through that spring term of senior year (namely company, and someone to care for–sometimes at my own expense).
-Spring of 2004 was a flurry of busy times in my memory. I recall a lot of pain and sweat. It culminated towards the end, where it all paid off at the conclusion of my senior art exhibition, in which I was informed that I had acquired a job for the next year. The sensation of relief and excitement afterwards was amazing.
-I made the best of my last summer ever. It was an outpouring of pent up creative juices into various forms of art, spending time with good friends, and having Carleton nearby. I made it a point to never be bored, and milked the time for everything I could.
-The fall was the start of the changes. Moving up here, starting my job, having various intimidating grown-up things tossed at me from all around–it was all rather overwhelming. I’ve learned so much working at Long Wharf, both good and bad. I’ve acquired all kinds of exciting new skills, and all kinds of unpleasant new knowledge.
-Winter rolls around, and it is time for change. It is strange, I love the things I get to do, I love to be able to create. But at the same time, I am not happy here. To put it bluntly, working in theater sucks balls. It is not worth it. People say that to work in theater you have to “really love it,” more and more that’s starting to sound like a cop-out, something people say to reassure themselves. I remember hearing about when Laura Beth Adams gave up theater to move to Arizona and teach aerobics, or something like that. Everyone seemed so shocked, and even outraged, but I think I can empathize now.
I don’t know what to do now. I took this internship to find out if I really wanted to do this as a job, and the answer is a resounding No. Would quitting be along the lines of abandoning these people or this obligation? Or would it be the right thing to do, the braver thing?
More than this has taught me that being brave is terrifying and painful.