Living Monologues | Sparrow — Ashley J. Hobbs

This monologue is pure fiction and part of my ongoing Living Monologues Series that explores who we are beneath our words.

Ummm. Yeah, so I’m Sparrow Rollins. And I’m trying to save my own life.

And I know that that’s way heavier than I’m supposed to say but I’m kinda at that point, you know? I’m two months in as an executive assistant to a dean over at Gibson Community College in Springdale and I don’t know what I’m doing there except collecting a nice check. I forgot to order the refreshments for an awards dinner the other night and the look on the dean’s face... The way my soul melted into my pumps...

I’m here because I don’t belong there. I’ve been trying to make it my dream job because $50,000 a year is the lap of luxury when Old Navy was all I could land since graduation day. THREE years ago. 2008 ended a lot of us and it was supposed to be the beginning of everything...

I’m here because even though this is my first night, this fits me, you know? I brought a change of clothes because even though I look good in my corporate bodycon dresses and Lord & Taylor pumps I got off the sale rack, I don’t feel like me. I’m standing here in a black t-shirt, black beanie, and some jeans and this feels like me. I’m scared as hell but being here in my own skin feels right. Not at the college. And I’ve tried to make it work there, feel good there. But when you look behind the curtain The Wizard is incompetent and greedy. And the students? They don’t have a chance in hell because at the top there’s nothing but red tape and egos galore. Do people even say ‘galore’ anymore? Besides after ‘Pussy’? I’m nervous. Sorry. But I’m glad y’all thought that was funny.

Anyway, I’m here because if I don’t figure something out soon I’m going to be stuck. I can feel it. I feel my feet getting stuck. For hours I just stare at Facebook instead of doing my job. I need this for me. I need this because from childhood until now fantasy, tv, the stage...those were the only things that made me notice my own heartbeat. So, even if I find out I can’t act worth a damn, I’ll figure out the next leg of this flight. I have to. Because I’m creepin’ up on quitting or getting fired.

Anyway, I know that was a lot. But I mean, my name is Sparrow. I was bound to end up in acting class lamenting my life at some point, right?