Thursday 16 June 2011

Coffee, calm and career-paths

It's been an odd week.  Seeing ex-partner on Tuesday was difficult and I was so exhausted anyway, that the evening proved difficult on both emotional and physical fronts.  In the end, I had to go out for a walk in the evening, even though it had just rained and still looked threatening, because I just couldn't stay cooped up in my flat surrounded by old things of mine and his any longer.  It did chuck it down with rain again when I came back, but I managed to walk to the bottom of Václavské náměstí (or ,Václavák' to the locals) and back nonetheless.

And today, I felt better about everything because I had a day off.  Even though this happened to coincide with a transport strike, causing me to re-think the plan of taking the tram to Kavárna Slavia, I still had a rejuvenating day.

I went to the same place as last week, the Palác Knih Luxor bookshop on Vaclavák, and had the same coffee (,Viděnská káva') as last time.  

Except this time, I took a copy of American Vogue with me to read, which was a delight - full of interesting articles about summer holidays, Penelope Cruz's success and motherhood joy (interesting to someone like me who always wonders why women always want children, as if it were some kind of vital, meaningful part of life you mustn't miss out on, when I just want the career bit, not the motherhood bit) and also a very interesting article about a Russian artist living in Brooklyn.  Oh to have that life of doing the things you love and earning enough money from it to live in your own flat in Williamsburg.  How do these people do it?

Anyway, here's what I wrote while at the cafe:

I am completely enraptured.  I woke up today when I needed to.  I had set the alarm on my mobile, but the battery had run out overnight.  I hadn't intended to get up early anyway.  And somehow, from whatever it was I dreamt, I felt like I was waking up in a completely different place.  The malign influence I had felt of the old sheets and pillowcases delivered alongside my boxes of diaries and photos from ex-partner this week had metamorphosed into a new kind of comfort and sense of home, albeit an isolated one.  I felt like my little flat was on a cloud-and-tree island like the animated green islands in the sky in that awful film 'Avatar'. 

Except my little sky island was a cultured one, with influences from lots of different countries and local delicacies.  What hope and calm.  It was actually quite a surprise that I could feel so far removed from my usual tedious work.  It had no impact.  It still feels a totally separate and distant prospect.  I don't want to even think about it, but even when I do, it somehow has no sting.  I can safely feel it's got nothing to do with me today.

I'm glad I made it through all the pain of the end of my previous relationship and selling my piano and having to accept that a music career was never going to be in my future (though "accepting" this seems to be an ongoing process that isn't even close to completion) but I survived to have today.  A precious and unique day in all my time here.

I've got to acknowledge what I've managed to get through.  It's been colossal.  I've actually earnt enough money to pay the rent for my flat.  I don't have to face hideous boyfriends of flatmates or their entourage of visiting weirdos anymore.  (They weren't really weird at all, it's just that these kind of 'straight-jacketed' people who dream of mortgages and matching furniture are the 'weirdos' to me.)  I don't have to negotiate the cooking or washing facilities.  No-one's going to disturb my thoughts, until I have to invite in my meet-ees, that is.  The morning (albeit usually only until 8am) is my own.
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To contrast with that, I now have to face a gruelling back-to-back kind of day tomorrow, but I have at least prepared a few things in advance this time, so I won't drown.  I just won't have time for lunch.  But that's ok.  I'm only having an apple.  

And then on Saturday, I've been roped into acting in a student film (ah, old acting career, in the loosest sense of the word, hello again..!) playing an innocent and sweet character who goes to the extreme of working as an escort to help support her relationship.  (Why do all student acting roles involve playing 'ladies of the night' or the promiscuous girlfriend'?)  We're starting at 7.30am, so I'll need to get as much sleep tonight (too late already for a good night's sleep, oh well...) and tomorrow as I can, so as not to look like death warmed up.  They want the 'no make-up' look for the main sequences.  God help me.

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