Sentience in a seed-pod

I've been doing the wrong goddamn thing all my life. Here I am, ambling the ladder of Information Technology in a casual way, when my real calling is somewhere out there dialing the wrong number and pissing the shit out of some couple in Germany.

How do I know this? I met the couple, who have just moved here to a house they bought in Camp's Bay. They have two children and a dog named Dieter. They're not all called Dieter - just the dog. Anyway, this whole paragraph is untrue.

How do I really know this? I went to my theatresports workshop course this weekend and loved it beyond description. I had fun, fun, fun, and I love every one of those beautiful people who are also on the course. On Saturday it took me a while to get into things. Those of you who know me also know that in real life I am the kid who comes in late chewing gum and sits at the back of the class making wisecracks. In this class I am the nerdy kid who sits in the front row and takes notes. I haven't changed. The people around me are just so flamboyant and arty and acty and other things ending in y. By Sunday I was ready to get down and happy though. And when it became time to leave I wished I didn't have to. And I thought to myself, damn, self, why are you not doing this for a living?

My mind goes back to that time I auditioned for that part in that thing. I was so excited and then my parents visited the school and the thing mysteriously disappeared. Do my parents have a secret pact with Kathy Reimers to ruin my life? Or do they really just want the best for me in their misguided munificence?

Ok, so I've got one week of work-a-day before the final weekend of workshop. A weekend which carries the dreaded possibility that I may have to sing and worse, sing a song that doesn't exist yet to no music and with a topic someone else suggested seconds ago. But I'm man enough. Bring it.