Surrogate City

DAY THIRTY-FOUR: The Pauper Says Goodbye

Family is a fluid term.  Yes, the images conjured that immediately leap to mind with the word are often the mother, father, offspring and perhaps a cute little furry creature in the corner.  We all have this family.  It's a blood relation formed the moment of conception.  But through our lives, we formulate new families as we branch on our own.

Sometimes, when your immediate family, say, moves to another country, or you move to another city; its the blood bonds that keep you together.  But their absence means that you need to supplement your familial belonging with something new.  For twenty-somethings branching into their own lives, this often means a circle of friends.  Classmates (at a school of improv), or your job.

Today I said goodbye to one of my families.

For most people, work is what we do day-to-day to receive a paycheck to support ourselves.  We do the daily grind of nine to five not necessarily out of passion for the job at hand, but because the compensation is what we need to do the things that supplement our lives.  But when you are at this supplementary life situation, you don't realize that the day-to-day drudgery actually fills most of your life.  It's simply what you do.  It's not until you leave your post that you realize you've actually formed a family with your co-workers.  You see these people more often than your biological family, your friends, or your sweet as hell kitty that nestles on your chest the moment you lay down for a binge session of "Breaking Bad" on Netflix.

But your work family is your family.  It's the people you see for an average of 40 hours a week.  Compare that to anyone else in your life.  Even a roommate can come up short.

Today I said goodbye to my work family of over two years of my life.  I've done this multiple times.  But today was different.  Today was a family I deserted for selfish reasons.  A family who loved me enough to throw me a surprise party in the conference room and share their feelings on why they would miss me, but how excited they were to see me pursuing my dreams.  These are people I have clocked in just under 5,000 hours of my life with.

The thing about work families is that most of us spend our time with them doing something we find necessary to live our "outside lives."  But we spend so much time with them during this time that we often forget to seek them out during our "off" work periods.  That doesn't diminish the relationship, but rather takes it for granted.  Like a couple hitting their seven year itch, our work families are always simply there.  So even when you've prepared for months to say goodbye, you never really realize it until the week beyond "vacation time" has passed.

Where does this leave you?

As someone who has spent most of her life moving around and adopting new families, you would think this comes easy.  A natural acceptance of life much like gaining weight and getting UTIs.  But it doesn't get easier.  It simply gets different.

It's hard right now.  And it will be hard to ensure this family lasts in my life.  But what I know right now is this: I rode my bike home from Second City tonight and saw a Skid Steer (a construction vehicle that caused the accident of a major case of ours.)  And I cried.  Why did an industrial piece of machinery force emotions out of me reminiscent of Shirley MacLaine in "Terms of Endearment"?  Because I knew I would never have to care about that piece of machinery again.

And the emotions I felt at that moment proved in me that the difficulty in saying goodbye to one family I've cherished will pale in comparison to the happiness I will feel in my new adventure.

But from the cheap seats, I say, "Goodbye my loves.  I hope we can do lunch.  And maybe we can grab a beer."

A Kid In The Hall

DAY TEN: The Pauper Lights a Fire

This past week has been a creative resurgence.  The majority of my time outside of work was spent at Second City, either taking class, taking in a show, listening to Dave Foley talk about writing, or watching my very own co-creation be brought to life by some fantastic actors.  This life?  This is the life I want.

So what a bummer my Saturday was when I came down from all this motivation.  I finally told my parents about my decision to leave my job, and I heard nothing that even remotely sounded like criticism.  I was showered in praise, support, and admiration.  And perhaps the best thing I could have heard, "You made the right decision."

After that, it was time to get down to the writing.  But I sat in front of my screen with my scene from our new show searing its blandness into my face.  It desperately needed a rewrite like a desert needs the rain like this guy needs a mountain of ice cream after indulging in some durian.  But nothing was coming to me.  And I remembered Dave Foley quoting Dorothy Parker in the writer's salon, "I hate writing, but love having written."  

Why can't you just be better, words?!

So I did what any self-respecting writer would do during a blockage.  I ordered and ate a Papa Romeo's pizza, added toppings until my order reached the delivery minimum, watched some reruns of Friends, and called it an early night, hoping tomorrow would bring a fresh take on the obstacle at hand.

And this morning, I took another piece of Mr. Foley's advice.  He had said that he would do his best writing in the morning.  He would wake up, and lay in bed thinking about what he wanted to write, even falling in and out of sleep.

And that's what I did.  I allowed myself to think about it, and forced myself to write before I did anything else.

Though only now have I remembered there was one other thing I started this morning.  Oops.

Something glorious happened.  My brain was firing, and I completed the daunting task of a rewrite in less than an hour.  If you think about it, it makes perfect sense.  Your brain is firing like crazy while you are dreaming.  (I myself dreamed that I was pregnant with triplets.  I am to believe the father was Papa Romeo.)  So why not take advantage of those energized synapses and write the moment you wake up?

To this, I say, happy funemployment to me!  How much more satisfying will life be when I wake up and churn out work product than when I wake up and am a product of work?