On Friday night, a lovely friend of mine took me to see the Sydney Theatre Company's adaptation of Orlando. We both love the book, and the movie, but were unsure what to expect of a play.
It was fabulous. I am always astonished by the creativity of theatre, the sets, the design, the concepts. And, of course, the actors.
I was also reminded how lucky I am to have the sort of life where I can go to see a play in the Sydney Opera House - enjoying our beautiful harbour on a warm summer evening (even there were so many people out that it reminded me of pigeons in Piazza San Marco).
Watching Orlando, as s/he trips through different lives, also made me think about how I seem to have woken up in a different life this year. No gender switching - thank goodness, I'm not sure I'd cope - but so many other things are suddenly not the same as they used to be. For 20 years I have worked freelance and/or taught school, fitting my work around the rest of my life and my kids. Now, I can go days without even seeing Kid 1, as I leave for work before he gets up in the morning, and he's often out in the evening, getting home after I've gone to bed. Kid 2 is still at school, but, at 15, understandably less interested in talking to me or spending time with me - even if I had that time. In the mornings we argue about the necessity of her eating breakfast; in the evenings we argue about the necessity of her doing homework, even if she's tired - while I'm cooking dinner, doing the laundry and trying to finish my second shift of the day.
As for my job, the insanity of sitting at a desk all day, even when I sometimes have nothing to do, drives me crazy. There are upsides - it's fun to get to know younger colleagues, it's fun to socialise from time to time - but mostly my job makes me feel like I am treading water and wishing my life away at the same time. I know it's the reality of work for many people; again, I should be grateful that I have a job.
2 comments:
I've woken up in a different life this fall, myself, but the change results from a choice I was lucky to make. Even so, I find it tough having to adjust my schedule and, more crucially, my sense of identity. It must be so much more difficult when you feel so much less choice, except ones you must make for the sake of your family. Especially when family is not at a stage to appreciate that choice, experiencing their own adjustment to waking up in a different life themselves.
No wonder theatre was devised. Let's pretend . . . Let's imagine . . .
I think even when the change is one you have chosen, it can be difficult, especially when, as you say, it has so much impact on your sense of identity. I keep telling myself that this is probably a good time for me to have a change of career, given that I'm needed less by family, but I desperately miss teaching. Even at its most frustrating, it was fundamentally rewarding. My new job is something I might have been able to muster enthusiasm for when I was younger, but not now. So, yes, I shall pretend and imagine and no doubt in a few months things will be altogether different and I'll appreciate what I've learnt ...
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