“If you were talented, you’d be doing better than you are by now.” I’m sure that’s what all my family members and many people who know me on social media are thinking. Heck, I think it. As I sit here waiting to be accepted off what looks like another failed audition — well, hell, I’m not available their first few days of shooting, so can’t I use that as an excuse? I know when I do film, I have a 66% success rate. Sort of. But not a single new commercial in 2022. And I don’t know what to blame that on. Yes, I had two jobs in 2022. No, I don’t plan to work anymore, so I want one of these gigs. But I can’t help that I’m now going to be giving presentations that will cost me, rather than making money. Well, I can hope to sell a few books in Portland, anyway.
So I guess I have to give up waiting for this call-back and go downstairs and do a little tread-milling. Did you know that those were invented as torture devices? They sure are when the doctor makes you walk one for a stress test. The last stress test I had, they just injected me. I’d rather get the exercise! Anyway, I’m also waiting for a publisher’s response to half a book, as I work hard on the other half. As I edit it I keep thinking, really? This is supposed to hold someone’s interest? And I haven’t heard from my Virginia City historian friend in a while. Maybe he’s lost interest, too?
My Bonanza friends sound enthused. And to me, and for my only real success in life, that’s what matters.
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