Last night I got to watch some television before running out to see a local production while Gummi Bear and the Bald One were off at the ball game. I took advantage of the quiet to get caught up on Smash. It is a bit of a guilty pleasure, as it is pretty costumes, good song work and allows me to touch base with the road not taken. Once upon a time I could have gone to NYC or DC and lived close to the bone while working in some dead-end job to keep food on the table and a roof over my head. I could have come alive in a dark room creating art and filled the remaining hours with bright laughter, smoky bars and transient relationships.
Instead, I chose something stable.
Do I regret my decision? Some days yes, some days no. A friend of mine is currently pursuing her arts administration degree. There are times where I am jealous beyond reason because she is so passionate about what her current course of study is covering. Then she tells me of the lack of recognition in her current job, her desire to travel more or be able to plan a normal date night with her husband. Let us not even discuss the trouble with child care with either full time or part time arts professions or I will lose focus completely. I have my headaches with my “day job” and compared to the headache of pulling off an intricate tech sequence, it feels completely unsatisfying. And yet, I have a house and bills paid on time. I have a car that is completely paid off and another almost done. I’m expecting a second child and not panicking about the extra mouth to feed or expenses (yet).
But every once in a while, I miss my tiny apartment I had when I first moved here, my walls covered in the posters and opening night cards of the shows I had worked and the ability to walk out the door for a show and a drink afterwards with the cast without a care.