I turn thirty-four today, and for the first time I can remember I am unhappy about getting older. A few days ago I realized that this constitutes the beginning of my “mid-thirties,” and I definitely feel older today than I did a year ago. Mostly because of my show, Bloody Bess. I’m just generally sore all over, all the time. And the temp assignment I’m on right now has me sitting in these godawful bar-height chairs that do unholy things to my spine. And, of course, my Jesus Year has come to an end, and I don’t feel like I’m really any farther along than I was when I wrote this blog entry a year ago.

Which is not to say the year was a total loss. I did get some stuff done. I took that writing class. Unfortunately it did not spur me on to feats of literary greatness. In fact, I’ve written very little since that class ended. I go in fits and spurts, and in the end I find myself tossing aside whatever I came up with. I haven’t given up on it completely — to the contrary, when I return to school I plan on diving head first into a writing concentration — but I don’t feel like I accomplished what I set out to do when I took that class in the first place.

And of course there is my theatre work. Since July 2007 I’ve been in four shows and one staged reading, and I choreographed the fights for two others. A pretty good year. I’ve enjoyed myself thoroughly, and made a few new friends along the way. I just wish I felt like I had some sort of a career growing out of all this work. All told I probably earned about four hundred dollars from everything I did in the last year. An audition popped up a few weeks ago that made me wonder if maybe I should put school on hold a little longer and try to pursue more paid (i.e. daytime) acting work, but it didn’t pan out. So, I’m kinda back where I started with all that. Unlike the writing, at least I’ve been getting out there and doing stuff theatrically, but I don’t know that I’ve made any real progress.

Also, all that running I was gonna do? Not so much.

I did enroll in school, which is . . . something. My enthusiasm about school waxes and wanes, and I find myself having difficulty defining my reasons for going back. When people ask, I say things like, “Everyone else I know has finished school, and I feel left behind.” Which is true. But it was pointed out to me that this is not, by itself, a good reason. To be honest, I cannot really define why I am returning to college, other than to say it just feels like something I am supposed to do. Like writing, it isn’t something I really want to do, but it is something I want to have done. Does that make sense?

It’s just after 5:30 in the morning on this, the first day of my thirty-fourth year. I need to shower and get prepared for another fun-filled day of data entry. This evening, my wife and one of my best friends are taking me out to dinner, and that will be awesome.