I suspect that I have a reputation for secrecy. With that in mind, here's the scoop on what's been going on with me of late (forgive me if this is Old News to any of you):
My job ends in one week. The call center in which I work announced to all of us a month or two ago that we'd be shutting down. I'm really quite fine with that; they're giving me a decent enough settlement package (honestly, I hadn't expected anything at all), and I'm taking it as an opportunity to really make an attempt at doing what *I* want to do with my life, as opposed to simply having a job that I don't love to pay bills.
I'll be moving! More specifically, I'll moving in with my dear Elizabeth (by July 1st), which is scary to me not because she isn't amazingly supportive and loving and flat-out awesome, but because I don't wish to screw it up. I'm not an easy person to deal with (although she "gets me" better than most anybody), and of late I've had Big Plans And Ideas that are not without risk. It's one thing to tell yourself that you need to take a chance on yourself, but for me it's hard to take chances when someone else is going to be affected by it. I usually prefer to affect people at arm's length, I guess.
And so I have to clean out my apartment (the Batcave) , which I have lived in for around 10 years and famously have allowed very few people to even see the inside of. It represents a lot of things to me, and perhaps the most notable of which is that it stands for many of the things I think I failed at. It doesn't represent me in the way that I wish to be seen. Strange how a place can have that sort of hold over me. In slowly but surely conducting the self-archeology of my recent life, I find that it is so much easier to let go of things than I thought. While poor E will have a lot of useless crap flooding her storage room once I move in, she should be appeased in the knowledge that it could have been much, much worse.
I plan on selling a lot of stuff, in an attempt to make a few extra bucks and giving some of my silly swag a good home. I might have some kinda "40 Year Old Virgin"-style yard sale (although I am only 38 and no virgin), or becoming a Craigslist pro. But if you're looking for odd pop culture stuff, you might want to drop me a line.
PotPie Theater continues onward! Our performances of "Us, Robot" at the Leebrick went very well, though I still think we haven't had that one shining moment that we need to really break out and be noticed. Angie and I are planning on taking the summer off, which is good with all we've got going on, plus it gives me the summer to really work on "Retromantic", my long-gestating script. It's been really hard to write it; I haven't written a play in years, and much of it is still locked in my head. But I've always been more of a "visualizer" when it comes to writing; I can *see* and *feel* most of it, but putting it on paper makes it a COMMITMENT, makes it *over*. I continue to encourage the little voice in my head that says to me; "finish it, Russell".
I've been having some health issues of late; anxiety attacks and pains. A series of tests have been taken, and last Friday (mere hours before the debut performance of "Us, Robot"), I was informed that there are "irregularities" in my gall bladder, and will have to come out. Stressful, due to the impending lack of job, but also a relief, because honestly, I haven't been feeling great for a while now, and if this is the solution to that, I can overcome my fears about 'going under the knife' and the time it'll take away from my moving process and the cost of it all. I worry that the gall bladder is not *all* that is wrong with me, but, as in all the changes that have happened/are going to happen, I'm doing my damndest to maintain my positivity (not an easy thing for your old pal Russell).
And positivity is needed for me right now. There so much going on in my life, or rather, there is so much ABOUT TO BE going on in my life. And the sooner it gets here and gets done with, the sooner so much *more* will be going on in my life. I once wrote that I see myself as being right where I am forever. And for the first time in a long time, I don't feel that way. Possibility and opportunity are waiting. And so am I, for a little bit longer. That's what keeps me going these days. I've often described my personal philosophy as Cynical Optimism ("hope for the best, expect the worst"), but you know what? Maybe it's time I just hope for the best.