Expectations, Excerbated.

If I knew my best work was behind me and I could not see the light of the next gig, I would do the same thing in a second. Which is not a popular sentiment, but it's a true one from where I'm standing. You think the work only bears you up? Oh no. The work tears you down. You pay for every bit of it in the end. This is an inherently fatal gig. Too bad it's the only way to live.

ETA: Obligatory sparkle pony post to be delivered tomorrow; I'm sure of it.