The honeymoon is over.

I knew this would happen, and I made myself commit to blogging the good and the bad. I have a tendency, in my life, to not discuss anything unless it's in the past, or planned to the hilt. I avoid the issues that are thorny, ambiguous, and labyrinthine in favor of the issues that are silky, crystal clear, and arrow-straight. If no one knows about my stuff, it doesn't really exist, does it? In short, I hide my problems until I know what to do about them, and everybody (including me) can be fooled into thinking I'm awesome.

That was a pretty intense opener, so I'll start off by cooling it down. No, I am not announcing a heroin addiction.

What I am going to do is discuss the future without having the slightest loving clue of what I'm going to do about it. That's a big step for me.

So here's why the honeymoon is over.

I've been loving every minute of work. However, if y'all will check the timestamp on this post, you'll notice it's very near the end of the month. When the calendar reads February, some very nice people down the street are going to expect a small, rectangular piece of paper to appear in their hands, that's labelled with the name of their business and a four digit number...1147. I wish there was a decimal point in that number somewhere, but no. It's California. Our rent is $1150 a month. Current checking account status is reading less than half that altitude. The worry worm has wriggled into my mouth, oozed past my epiglottis, and slinked down my esophagus to nest in my belly again.

I can love this work like nothing in the world, but if I can't pay the bills, I can't pay the bills.

And this was the deal to start with. For those of you irritated, offended or generally chafed by an exploration of the spiritual / religious &/ theological, change the channel.

[religious part]

The only reason I ever got up the cojones to do this Hollywood thing in the first place is because I wrapped my head around the concept that the course of my life is entirely in God's hands. He willed the universe into existence, and thus it continues to exist because he does not will it to cease. He's interested in my welfare because He incarnated himself in order to substitute Himself for my in judgement so that I could have a relationship with Him. I have the free will to make my own decisions, and take action, but there is only so much I can control. This lack of control scared me away from even considering acting for a living for many years. By nature I want something safe and predictable (or at least something that offers the illusion of said qualities). By getting to understand the idea that it's my business to go where I believe I'm being led and allow Him (The Omniscient) to take care of the rest (everything I can't control) in His own way, my fear was assuaged and even extinguished to the point that I could say, "I need to do this acting thing." And I did it, and it's been awesome.

[/religious part]

From the beginning I knew that it would either work out, or it wouldn't work out. There were a few variables to be considered going forward, but they all fell under two basic questions:

1) Do I love this, or does it suck?

2) Is the money there or not?

I knew I could love the stuffing out of this work, but fall flat on my nose financially.
I knew that I could make enough money at it, but find out that I'd been chasing a mythical thing, and I really didn't like Hollywood that much.
I knew that I could be broke and disenfranchised.
And I knew that I could make it, and be the happiest I've ever been.

Since I don't believe in luck, I'll let you run the stats on those possibilities...what I believe is that, whatever the outcome, it would be a clear indicator of my path in life.

I'm meant to be here, or I'm not meant to be here. If I'm not meant to be here, I had to get this place out of my head before I could live a contented life elsewhere, otherwise employed.

Okay, spiritual again...tough cookies: God has a plan for me, and this Hollywood stint is a part of it. I'm clearly supposed to be here right now doing this. Am I supposed to be here to see that it's not for me? Is my path elsewhere, and a love affair with the movies is just an obstacle? Or has it been so hard for me to believe I should do this precisely because it's what the Big Kahuna wants me to do?

Enough wandering, back to the point. I don't want to worry. I've spent enough of my life doing it, and it sucks. I can't control everything, and I've made big steps toward letting God handle the no-control issues in my life.

The problem is I'm worrying. I saw the bank account, I can see the calendar...and I desperately want to have enough money to keep at this. That's where the worry comes from. It feels so right to be working in the industry, but logic and my wife's favorite (read: most hated) word pragmatism says there's no way we'll have money for rent when it's due.

And this is my problem. I'm getting ahead of the game, trying to wrestle with the unknowns and divine them, somehow, so that I can make the right decision now and avoid the potential pain.

How many times in my life has the right help showed up at the right time? How many times has the door of opportunity closed when I was about to take a path that, in retrospect would have been foolish? God has a great track record, but here I am again.

Oh, ye of little faith, right?

It's so irritating to ostensibly believe in a Sovereign God, and then, at the drop of a hat, completely flip out. Whether you buy into a personal God or not, you'd have to agree that if a God that was looking out for you was on your side, it would be borderline retarded to start planting an ulcer over a couple hundred bucks.

And I do this, time after time. I spent most of today spinning probabilities in my head, trying to guess the value of preparing for "the inevitable" (an abandonment of Hollywood), mostly because there's a little voice inside that goes all Revolutionary Road on me in the dark moments and hollers about Responsibility, and Accountability, and Righteousness, and Provision for Your Family...which is a Responsibility, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, blech. While it all sounds great and good in theory, leaving because of the perceived upstanding-ness of getting a "real" job is just as much rejection of God's leading as would be staying here to the detriment of my wife and son (and myself) when I clearly wasn't making any progress at all.

So of course, I'm somewhere in between (like I said, nuanced). I fit in here, I'm fulfilled by this work, it interests me, I'm with my family, and, shock of shocks, I kind of like living here (now that I actually live here). But the money...she's not in the bank.

Written out like that, I guess the argument clears itself up a little bit...but being broke and missing the bills is a big, fat, scary thing for a performance oriented, socially hyper-sensitive Minnesota German. Like, you're a failure as a person if you can't pay your dues.

But it's show business. I could land a job that pays $600 tomorrow and everything would be different.

It's just a bitch and half.

Alicia does the bills, and she goes, "I don't know how this is going to work."
I go, to myself, "Well how is this going to work?"

I should stop right their and ask the God I claim to believe in, but no, I go, "I gotta figure out how it's gonna work! That's my job! Oh, shit, look at the calendar, there's no way I can conceive of that will find us with enough money to get by...there must be no way! God must be telling me to pack it in and leave." Notice, please, that at this point the Creator finally enters the calculus of the created being. Notice also that because I can't immediately find the answer, there must be no answer. Talk about your palm-to-the-forehead moments.

Now that I'm out with all of this exposition, it actually helps me relax a little and take it one day at a time...but the fact remains: I spent the bulk of the day trying to find tomorrow's answer today.

Isn't this what sitcoms do? Make a situation hilarious because the entire audience can see the problem, but the character just can't seem to get it right.

Says the six-year-old me, "But I wanna know NOW!"

I guess it's true...

Adults are really just kids with a hell of a lot more practice.

The honeymoon ended because I checked out of the hotel.

Tired of all the analogies, metaphors, comparisons, and mental chess?

Yeah, so am I...that's what the last blog was for.

G'night.