One official week of residency in the Big Smoke and I am sick. Literally. I arrived last Monday and was the proud recipient of a four or five day cold and a massive allergic reaction (to what, I do not know - though my hypothesis thinks it may have had something to do with the election results) that presented itself in the form of a rash over most of my body. I've spent the last four days recuperating and trying to get somewhat active again after hiding out in the apartment. To be fair, though, it hasn't been all bad.
After a late evening on set Sunday night, I got back to my temporary residence in Ottawa to pack. I had to be up at 3:30 a.m. to catch a bus at 4:30 to reach a train that would be leaving at 5:45. Why so early? Because I had a commercial audition waiting for me in Toronto that morning.
Exciting, I know! And of course, I barely slept for fear of missing out on my alarm. And though I dozed on the train, I also did some work, because, you know, that's what I do. I picked up a publicist gig for 'I' - a show that will be up at The Gladstone in Ottawa as of November 18th - and so I was busy with that. (I'm pretty excited about this piece and the people involved. More on that in another blog post, but here's a link to the main website to tide you over.)
The audition went well and, after a quick shower, I headed to my creative coaching workshop with Barbara Deutsch. I've talked about her here before. I always feel amazing when I leave her workshop; inspired and ready to work. But this time, things with me felt different.
You know, I have a tendency to do too much. (A collective "no shit" is suddenly heard across the horizon.) So, it was decided that I should just relax, maybe pick up a hobby instead of working all the time. It would be easy in Toronto since I don't know as many people or know where/when things are happening (yet). I'm doing everything right when it comes to my acting career, but all this pushing I keep doing to move forward really isn't helping. It's like paddling against the current. A draining and pointless labour.
Not only did I realized I had to stop, but I got sick enough that I was forced to do so.
And it's been haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard!
I don't like this feeling. Not doing anything makes me feel... useless. I so intrinsically identify myself with what I am "doing" that I have no idea who I am when I'm not. Needless to say, I got bored. Then I got depressed. Is this what workaholism is all about? I guess so. I'm like an addict going through some sort of detox and craving a fix. I worked on a press release, sent out some emails, updated my marketing resume and applied for a job today just so I didn't feel like a waste of space. How fucked is that?
The sickness is slowly going away now. I know it's all related with my move. Change and the unknown magnifying my own fears. No matter how great the place I'm living in currently is (and trust me, it's super sweet and safe and comforting), I miss my home, my cat, my old life. But I want more. And growing pains will come with that. I just need to breathe through the panic and stay the course.