OK so I was wrong ... not all hope is gone! There is hope. But it has crept in some really really weird places, like our brain - other people's brain and under a few rocks, behind the old dresser and places like that.

Nothing out of the ordinary has taken place - in fact the gloom scenarios are around stronger than ever , but a line has to be drawn. In the face of collective misery, we have to try and parade individual resistance. Because after all, mob mentality NEVER EVER did any one person any good!!

Is this really the black hole where hope and positive thinking come to lay their tired bodies?? I mean seriously what has happened to this year? Apart from continuous hits above and below the belt, it seems to me that December is not turning out to be quite as jolly as one might have expected.

We are really anticipating 2011 to come through the door simply because the new always holds some promise. But that is the ONLY reason; deep down we know pretty well that 2011 is likely to be as punishing and brutal as 2010.

Good luck to all the women and children... all of us included...

Last night I wasted an evening of my life, listening to a life-coach presenting his programme. I went to support a friend - whose life apparently was changed by the programme and wanted to spread the joy. Last night I vowed that apart from the necessary hours I struggle with and often fail at my job I will not again waste any time on anything! I will do and spend time as I see fit for myself and those around me.

I am getting old... I looked in the mirror yesterday and I had this grey tinge about my face - an indescribable paleness and I should know, let's face it, I am not known for my fair skin! I am getting old. My hair is in fact turning grey, what's left of it anyway. I am philosophizing a lot more lately and I have a sneaking suspicion that the weight I have put on is not going to leave me unless I do something drastic. Even my teeth are starting to lose their overwhelming whiteness.

I am 35 ... but I am getting old I can feel it... and it will not get easier either.... but it is worth at least resisting a little bit. I am going to rethink the beard!!

Curtains down....

Last night was final night of performances for my play... at least for now. A full-house and 3 curtain calls for the actors. Last night was a good night... I had people I loved and cared for around me, and I think that they may have started to form a new opinion of me. After all writing a play and exposing yourself in such a way is scary but cleansing in so many ways. I feel ... I am not sure what I feel, perhaps that I have spoken without saying anything, that I have managed to bring to fruition a year-long project. Well not I alone but I was a part of it.

I have found my calling; there is no mistake about it. Should not try to hide it or think twice about it. This is it.. On the eve of my 35th birthday, the truth is inescapable: I want to be a writer... just let all of it pour out even like smudges on screen and paper. That's what I want... I might never do it but that's ok... this is big in itself...

A friend of mine, a good friend of mine I believe, sent me a job posting in a production company which is seeking to recruit script-writers for a new daily series. I smiled when I read it; I am of course not qualified in the list to be seeking script-writing commissions but I was amused to think what urged him to write it. It signals a shift; a shift in perception. And a shift in possibilities. The financial crisis has long wiped away any potential jobs that might be of interest to someone of my 'level' (God I hate that word and what it carries with it) so as we struggle with sanity, survival and the dreadul sense of what is to come we look inward to pools of new skills and talent. I daresay some of us have struck gold, perhaps not in real terms but in terms of finding a niche through which to express ourselves.

It might not pay the rent, but it does not cost me anything either. I will go write to my friend and thank him...

Opening night + 2

Not sure what makes a writer who he is, but there is a certain brain connection that fires up when someone asks you: "And you are?" "I am the writer".... there is a lot to be said about the way we define ourselves and how we are perceived. I am not a writer, I have written a play which I was LUCKY enough to see on stage.. it was a feeling like no other, putting words in people's mouths like that.

And this morning my son asked "Dad have you got rehersal tonight?"... as I was pouring his milk at 7 am... what a question!! I wanted to laugh; rehersal tonight... I don't actually, and nothing is planned for tomorrow evening either, which means we can go back to our routine and be there for his 7pm swimming class. And you know what? that is fine with me. I may never be a writer, I will fight for it but I will be there for his swimming classes and that to him is important and that makes it important for me too...

The week after the week that passed. Even though the hell that I refer to as last week was a premeditated crime, I still feel drained and exhausted. I gaze upon life with a fresh gaze this Monday morning. As we are nearing final rehersals, people are getting more stressed; not me.. I am getting happier. I want to scream and explain that this has to be a joke but it is not, it is happening and I once again am grateful. I am also suprised; some have come out of nowhere to cheer me on, others who should have been cheering already have somehow vanished into the background.. there you have it I guess....

I have noticed some ugly trends in my personality lately... pressure makes me snap, it never used to; and then it used to give me stomach pains but I would never get angry or explode. But now I do, like a pot with too much water as it boils over. Flickers of rage directed at loved ones lasting less than a minute. But what if that changes? What if they start lasting longer? What if the rage never leaves me?

Just when we think that we are under control, something like this happens and shakes us about! I first noticed a couple of weeks ago; I have always been not-the-most-patient kid on the block but lately I lose my patience and snap at people and then I feel like one of those alcoholics that beat up his wife in a drunken stupor. I think the feeling of regret after is the worst combined with the feeling of helplessnes. At first I could not articulate what the problem was, and then suddenly last Tuesday as I was waiting for my son to finish swim lesson I realised it... there is an issue there. Something very serious needs to be addressed and the ugly monster to turn back into its box.. And it will...

So I met the actors. I love saying... it sounds so nonchalant... "so I met the actors". Those actors who are right now rehersing my play. I feel so in awe of them; embarrased that after having studied theatre for years, Ipsen, Brecht and the rest, they are now reduced to my miserable excuse for a script. That is how I feel. But those 4, can change my life and in a way they have already. A bit less ordinary, a bit less predictable, just after a meeting in the heart of Athens....