"Become Your Dream." The words on the sidewalk were fading from the foot traffic, but it still managed to strike a chord within me. Especially on this day. This day of what felt more like a day of shedding complaints rather than being one of productivity.
I am suddenly hearing cliched phrases, "dreams are what makes life tolerable"; "dreams without follow through are just that, dreams"; "go confidently in the direction of your dreams, live the life you've imagined." "A dream is a wish your heart makes." "The only one that will stop you from fulfilling your dreams, is you."
That's just it. What is my dream? What drives me? Where is my inner compass? Perhaps I am treading on this too deeply as I have just escaped the hurricane that is March Madness - 16 plus hour days for over a month. It doesn't feel like a dream job when you are sitting in an edit room at 2:30 in the morning, listening to a producer berate you about not having particular footage.
Silently you can think, somehow, some way it's going to get better than this. And it will - shouldn't it? One day you'll be in that chair, demanding where the footage is from some overworked, underpaid broadcast associate who should be relishing in the opportunity to be part of such an organization.
This industry requires commitment - like a marriage and I don't know if I could even consider proposing. And yet for the last four seasons, I have committed myself to this company. I know no other way, I just dive in and go along for the ride. I shouldn't simply hop on, I should try to sneak my way to the front, I should be the curious kid that asks endless questions; that pesters people for more information. I should be the one that people get sick of, but remember.
I feel as if I have just been spat out from the hurricane, that I am part of the wreckage. Do my tired eyes reveal too much? Do I look as if I long to pour my soul to anyone who will listen? Do I look as if I mistrust anyone who approaches me? Do I feel lost? You betcha. All of the above.
When I step back and even when I am going through it, I see how tired I get, I see what it does to my social life (even though it's not the best of social lives to begin with). I often think about my co-workers who are married - how on earth do they do it? Some of them have children! Is it easier for them because they are men? Without a doubt.
Perhaps I am not tired of the industry, rather, I am tired of the company. I am restless and as someone told me today, when she feels restless, that is usually when she is about to experience a growth spurt. I have developed some strong roots at my company and potentially there is more there for me to experience, but I feel restless. My roots have created a trunk and branches have grown, but I'm getting taller and I cannot help but think there is something else out there for me.
There is a tiny voice within me and it's championed by the voices of my everlasting, always supportive parents. Why on earth would I even consider leaving the top network that produces sports (other than that big company in farm land Connecticut)? After all, I have been given opportunities other people that share my title, have not had. I have had the chance to cut features for a program and recently it was nominated for a Sports Emmy. It has very little chance to win, but as the saying goes, 'it's just an honor to be nominated.' I'm proud of my work on the program, but recently it just doesn't inspire me the way it should. I'm ashamed to admit that.
I know a part of it is because I am tired and worn out, but who's to say if I were far from stretched out and emotionally spent that I would feel the excitement of achieving something I have thought about since I enrolled in graduate school.
Next to me is a small glass of whiskey. It's become a nightly routine within the last few days. I take a hot shower, pin up my hair and let the water take over my tired skin. I melt into my pajamas and find my smallest glass. I cram ice into it and pour myself a decent amount. It doesn't burn anymore when I drink it. It goes down smooth and I love the numbing that travels through my body as I gently sip it. It doesn't numb the thoughts that echo through my mind, rather it makes them come alive, they become real. I am able to be a bit more introspective and dig down deep. I don't see this becoming a crutch, it's something that's working for right now and that's all I can ask for.
I wanna go to bed with arms around me but wake up on my own ~ Dido "I Don't Believe in Love"
I long for comfort; but refuse to fall into something completely unless it feels right. I feel my mask, my shell casing slowly breaking away. I am beginning to feel naked; I am beginning to feel as if people are seeing through my smile. I feel the urge to run, to start anew. My eyes burn - do they reveal this tiredness that has taken over every inch of my body, every aching bone? My mind feels like a speeding subway, destination unknown.
Become your dream...
