I really thought that I would have more time.
I imagined days filled with meandering strolls through the Fillmore, casually stopping to read my Kindle at the literal coffee bar that serves cappuccinos in the morning and beertails at night1. I visualized lounging in one of the many surrounding parks on a beautiful sunny day and memorizing scripts.
I tediously mapped out my Thursday acting classes, and the Monday & Friday acting business/mindset coaching that I was starting. I blocked out an hour a day that I would spend on The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron2, running my fingers over the glossy, unbroken cover of the book next to me.
I fantasized about creating hilarious sketches and becoming TikTok famous within the next 3 months, despite being social media illiterate and my current affliction of opening the app, panicking when a random video inevitably starts playing at full volume, and closing the app quickly.
I envisioned waking up at 7am, getting my hour workout in, and then coming home to get my day started early. And there, of course, would be the day of the week that I would work on some cool tech side project to make passive income.
My 12-week unemployment plan was unfolding beautifully on a Notion doc titled Alyssa’s Life Planner 2022.
I dreamed about finally getting to the things that I’d been putting off, the life things that tend to get pushed further and further out until they either fall off the Things I Care About cliff or turn into a P0 issue3.
Like getting my REAL ID—my license is finally expiring this year. Tossing the random junk that somehow accumulated even after The Very Successful KonMari-ing of 2019. Wiping out my PC that I’ve had since 2011 to recycle—my last PC before transitioning to a Macbook when I started at Zillow.
Instead, I am exhausted when my third alarm goes off at 8:15 am on that first Monday of unemployment. Daylight Savings was not accounted for in Alyssa’s Life Planner 2022.
I wake up, bleary-eyed, and in half-dream/half-wake I scribble out my morning pages. My meditations are a mind soup of “You are capable…did you…did you really do this? Oh no. My nose is runnnnnning. Nobody is going to hire you, forever never. Are you there, Alyssa? It’s me, quarter-life crisis. WEIRD vacation. Is an Ikea fake sheepskin rug the right place for meditations?”
I’m scared that I’ll never book anything again, so I close my eyes and say pretty please let me manifest auditions. By Tuesday, I cheer when I get 2 self-tape requests, nod enthusiastically when 3 and 4 come in, but by the time 5, 6, 7, 8 roll in on Wednesday, I’m panic-laughing in a curled up ball on that Ikea rug. Mostly student films, but instead of working on them, I compulsively apply to a dozen more, terrified that I’m missing the right opportunity.
Every day this week, my boyfriend has had to drag me away from my computer, taking me out on a walk every few hours like I’m some poor unsocialized dog that never sees the light of day. We make a quick lap around our apartment courtyard, but then race back because the cold city wind whips mercilessly against our faces and across my bare, un-moisturized legs and Birkenstocks—my new WFH dress code.
Wednesday was my most “acting” day. I did a virtual callback, got coached for a 12-page self-tape, and then sat in the car for over an hour in rush hour traffic across the Bay Bridge to do roughly 15 minutes of work to finish up a student film.
But mostly, I spent my time crouched in the bedroom, in the dark with my blackout curtains, hunched over on the floor doing stuff like this.
This was not the unemployed artist plan I had in mind.
I broke the news to my parents on the drive back from a commercial shoot, and when they started to ask deeper and harder questions, I half mumble-shouted something about needing to focus on driving the narrow roads of the Golden Gate Bridge, “SORRY LOVE YOU BYE”.
I had so many wonderful and kind messages from my coworkers on my last week. Exclamations of “I can say I knew her before she was famous! I’m so proud that you’re following your dreams! Can I get your autograph?”
My acting teacher and friends were horrified.
Warnings of being desperate in auditions, of worrying about money, of losing the lived experiences one collects by dealing with a world of corporate assholes4. An actor friend asked, “is your partner supporting you financially?” I cringed and knew the subtext was you’re lucky you have a partner to help pay for your stuff—not all of us are so lucky.
And while I don’t expect anyone else to put money into such a janky product5—my dad always underlined the importance of financial independence—I am lucky. I had stopped auditioning for 3 years so that I could focus on building my career as a software engineer—getting promoted, trying my hand at starting a company, and most importantly, not getting fired. And in the 4 years that I’ve worked in tech, I’ve had the incredible privilege of saving enough money to be able to quit my day job for a few months. Not so many of my actor friends are as lucky.
This past week, I realized that even without a full-time job, I still only have 24 hours in a day. I thought that signing my separation paperwork was my hall pass from the rat race. And yet, I still manage to be so unremarkably busy—except now, without the nice paycheck. By the time I look up from my computer or camera, the sun is setting, and I’m really shocked that I had any time for a full-time job at all.
And of course, I haven’t booked anything.
Yes, they exist: http://www.thesocialstudysf.com/.
Every creative person, it seems, has to read and go through The Artist’s Way at least once in their life. Often, multiple times. It’s very much a thing.
…
I have yet to know what that thing is.
A P0 issue is a tech term that describes a problem that has to get addressed immediately with as many resources as possible because it affects the critical functioning of a product or feature.
Haven’t run into too many, thankfully. 😉
Though, I echo Ali Wong’s sentiment in her latest comedy special, Don Wong—my partner would definitely be buying low. And hey, he might get a payout in 10 years. Same thing with my GME stocks, right?…Right?