Missing Opportunities

I know it’s going to be hard getting any sympathy today. While the rest of the world drags their Brie-inflated bodies back to work, most of us actors are still encased in our snugly pyjamas, still navigating the scant leftovers and wondering how much longer we can keep living off them. I realise that those of you with normal jobs probably hate us while we lounge on the sofas but, and I think I speak for most resting actors out there, most of us would do anything to know that we’ll be employed doing what we love doing in January. Or at least earning some money.

I’ve spoken about how tough December can be while you watch your employment opportunities grind to a sickening halt but in some ways, January is even worse. We’re all taught that the start of the new year is the prime time to gear yourself up for new prospects. After nearly two weeks of eating your own body weight in chocolate and stuffing balls, you have a fair bit of time to contemplate where you want your career to go next. While aimlessly watching another film from your childhood, you start planning in your head about what you want to bring about in the upcoming year. When you’re self-employed, you very quickly become accustomed to having to produce your own opportunities and you convince yourself that this is the year. This is the year that you’re going to write to everyone. You’re going to look after yourself. You’re going to be prepared. This year is going to be your year. 

So you wake up on the day that everyone else has gone back to work and you’re raring to go. You’re out of your pyjamas a full two hours earlier than normal, you have a breakfast that doesn’t contain cheese leftovers and you don’t trawl the TV guide to find which gloriously nostalgic film is on. You open up the casting websites, ready to cover letter the heck out of them. But there’s nothing. All that faces you are leftover castings from last year that look about as appetising as a turkey sandwich. So far today there has been one paid job that’s available to me. It’s for a sexy actress that looks good in a bikini. Sadly I think the only reason they’d pay me the £200 on offer is to put my clothes back on and go home. Of course, there’s the usual array of unpaid opportunities that sound about as appealing as a Christmas CD in January but I’m ignoring those in the hope that they go away because, right now, Sainsbury’s don’t accept a new credit on your CV as legal tender. And the problem is that the rest of the world hasn’t caught up yet. Of course, with the world of work really only really beginning on a Wednesday, it’s unlikely that much will be achieved this week. So we look to next week, the second week of January for things to start. While the rest of the world is back into their routine, us actors are still desperately waiting for our invite, an invite that has inevitably been lost in the post.

So today I’m achieving nothing. Again. Apart from boring you lot about how I’m achieving nothing. Again. But chin up because you never know what’s around the corner. That killer job could be hovering just outside your inbox, ready to make 2013 your best year yet. Or, even better, there could be another excuse to stay in pyjamas that little bit longer.

Silent Night

I'm sorry for the unforgivable 10 day absense. I'd love to say that this has been down to me being incredibly busy and that I haven't had a second to sit down and write. Wouldn't it be grand if my nearly two week silence was down to me being so in demand that there was no possible way I could commit my fingers to my crumb-crammed keyboard. But of course, we know this isn't the case. The truth is that I haven't written because sadly I've had very little to write about. Because another year is coming to an end and as we're  gathering desperately bought presents, hoarding sickly sweet food and frantically trying to catch up with friends before the apocalypse supposedly descends upon us, the acting world has jammed the breaks on. There is nothing out there to be had. A few auditions are being offered here and there but these are either offering no money whatsoever or they're looking for everyone that I'm not.

Of course there are always down times in the world of acting. If you believed every thesp that you speak to then there's never a good time. The beginning of the year is slow to take off, Spring is ok but then theatres are worrying about Edinburgh. Summer is notoriously bad as most of the world inhabits the Scottish capital for a month, everyone comes back and all anyone's worrying about is who to cast as Buttons and then it's Christmas and there's never any point starting anything then. So, if the acting folklore is to be believed, there's about two days in April when it's a good time to be a performer. The rest of the time you may as well admit defeat and stay in bed.

I realise I should either be distraught at this lack of work or using this time off to do incredibly productive things. However, I'm still stuck in the novelty of having days off. Having worked full time for two years in a job I pretty much despised, the prospect of waking up late and being able to meander round in my onesi is still to great for me to turn down. Every morning I've woken up and considered the possibility of doing something a bit more proactive but instead I find myself gazing at Holly and Phil and entering countless online competitions in the hope of winning so much tat that I may never have to work again. I imagine this paints quite the pathetic picture but if you realised just how comfy and cosy I am then you'd most definitely aim your pity elsewhere.

And my laziness isn't being helped by being offered a job that I didn't even apply for. On Monday I received an email asking if I'd be part of a photo shoot in January. It's well paid, for a good cause and the only thing I did to get the job was to exist. The Lethargy Devil on my left shoulder has taken this as its biggest victory yet and my right shouldered Enterprising Angel has accepted defeat and gone into hibernation until the new year. Sadly it seems when panto season descends and the acting world embarks upon it's annual meltdown, the only choice is to settle down with a glass of sherry and a box of Quality Street and enjoy the slow, cosy, sleigh-belled ride.