Haven’t written in what feels like forever (and is in fact 5 weeks). My few and faithful know about my killer schedule lately, and the fact that I am hellbent on Moving Up means that I focus inordinate energy on a bunch of stuff that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. I’ve started treating different parts of my job like giant crossword puzzles; it’s just figuring out the right word to fit in the right place, and it keeps my mind muscular.

 But lately my brain rarely gets a rest and I worry that I’m getting so focused on completing tasks and achieving results that it’s really hard to do things just for fun. About the only thing I do is watch dumb TV or movies I’ve already seen. I guess that’s how I get my brain to quiet down, but I wonder when I’ll be able to get out of this mode. I’m not providing my creative cells with a healthy, relaxed atmosphere and I really worry that at some point, I’ll have sacrificed my talent in the pursuit of a Fulfilling Career.

I know there are people who get their primary fulfillment from their jobs. I know I’m afraid that that’s what’s happening to me. I never wanted to define myself by my job – unless it was a job as an actor (back a million years ago) or a writer, which is what I have now, but I don’t want to be this kind of writer. In fact, I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t think of what I do as writing (see puzzle analogy above). The strategic aspect of it makes it interesting, and if I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t be going at work hammer and tongs at it.

So I worry about how much my life is diverging from where I always thought it would go. On the one hand, I’m grateful to have a good job in a shit economy, and the fact that I actually can get interested in what I do is really gravy. On the other hand, I’m starting to feel less creative the more inflated my responsibilities as a creative become – inflation that I’m actively requesting.

So anyway, forgive me for being scattered and not knowing what the hell to write about. I can’t really write about work for obvious reasons, and increasingly, I feel like work is what I’m about. I have to be more than my job, more than a haircut that passes for a man (to steal the best line from Hannah and Her Sisters).

I’ll sort it out. Until then……blargh…….see? I’m losing it….

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