Saturday, January 8, 2022


I realized I hated the show I was on last year when I'd spend my commute home fighting back tears (though oftentimes, I wouldn't even fight it). Almost every day. I know I should've quit but for personal reasons I'll touch on soon, I couldn't. 

So almost every day, I'd cry on my way home. 

But today, in some kind of morbid way, I learned that I'm at least an optimist. Because my tears always came at the end of the day. 

I never once cried on the drive in.

That's something, I guess...

1 comment :

Michael Taylor said...

Well, the glass is half-full until it's half-empty ... and then it's time to weep. I'm sorry you had to endure such a toxic situation -- the job is hard enough without having to eat shit on set all day -- but I'm glad you're out of there.

It's a new year -- make it a good one.

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