A little more human

Very gradually, and in small but encouraging ways, my situation seems to be improving (though in others which I can't yet talk about, it is worse.) I can't claim that hard work has paid off, because I've done nothing new to account for it- and I can't pretend to have been particularly patient because most nights in the past several months I've gone to bed worn out by dull despair- but luck has decided in my favor more than usual lately, and it is a very welcome change. I need to find something to do in order to express my gratitude for it, and will when my schedule settles a little more.

The first way is a silly thing: I've been cast after all in the chorus of the show for which I auditioned last month, and will start rehearsals next week. The strange, instant camaraderie of being a part of a cast, usually linked together by nothing more than a common purpose and interest, has always provided me with a sense of being included that I have rarely felt elsewhere (and too often in more casual social situations, it has been clear that there was no place for me, or role to play, no matter how willing I was or qualified to fill it.) I have undoubtedly been fortunate enough in the past to work with some wonderful people who found it a pleasure to welcome me rather than a burden, and I can't expect this always to be the case. But from what I've heard of this group, I might have that chance again. It's been almost four years since Hamlet, my last show- and now that I write that, I can't believe it. How can I possibly have made the series of choices necessary to deprive me of one of the things I love most in the world for four years? Honestly, I don't know.

The second way is a small thing, almost a nothing, but of significance to me: a few words from the man I consider to be my closest friend, even though months frequently go by between communications. Three, almost four months of this most recent silence. I worry for him sometimes nearly as much as I care about him, and so hearing that he is alive, well enough, and remembers me from time to time is a comfort.

The third way is almost purely practical, and I probably shouldn't even be as happy about it as I am, except I can't help it. Part of me really was afraid I might not find a place to live, at least not one where I would feel safe, or one that wouldn't be so expensive as to send me deeper into debt. But the place I found is beautiful, and shockingly cheap considering the size and location. I'll do my real rejoicing when the papers are all signed, but I will have a key tomorrow and a place to sleep that isn't borrowed or resented.

Simple things, but enough to renew my sense of hope and restore me a bit. Especially needed now.

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