Nothing is more tragic than when food tastes bad.
Nothing hurts more than tired feet after a hard day.
My script is in the hands of a manager. The sixth written thus far. I'm ready to write the next one, but confused as hell about where my life is right now. I know but I don't know. It sucks to feel this way.
I'm exhausted, so exhausted that I can't make simple decisions. I have no strength for reason, which may not be such a bad thing. Too much thinking is also exhausting.
A Question I'm grappling with right now: Should I try ADing? Many ADs have already asked if I'm in the union.
A part of me feels too old. Crazy, right? My body can't keep up with a 14+ hour day, yet I have no idea what else to do, no where else to go. A tragic circumstance that seems to follow my path in becoming a paid screenwriter.
I refuse to settle into anything that will hinder my writing. My own stubbornness freaks me out some days. My parents are very proud (putting up with me).
side note: Working along side someone with false pride, someone who reacts to fear like a firecracker, spilling out a gross bravado makes the day long. Just breathe.
half a side note: Men and women aren't equal, not in every circumstance. The fact that I even have to answer this tells me how dim the light is.
When will something break? When will it all be worth it? When will the dry, parched ground drink the dew of what was promised long ago? A prayer raised long ago.
My patience, in this time of stubborn wait, has cemented deep roots. Though storms toss with fury, the trunk will never be breached.
side note: It's surprising how some men will speak, blurting out pea-sized thoughts. Their gauge and gaze totally off the mark. I look young for my age, a damn double-edged sword, so don't speak down to me like I'm a kid.
I have to follow-up with the manager. I'm scared as hell to do it. Scared to hear, "Oh, yeah. Sorry, it wasn't for us."
I should suck it up. Just hit send. But I'll give it a few more days. I know how many scripts managers have to peel though. I'd be sick to my stomach at the amounts they read. I just hope mine is worth the read.
So, that's been my life since Los Angeles. Working on a set, long hours, bad food - doing my wee part to keep the machine going.
I'm gonna give it a few days. Decide on the AD thing. I need to make moolah, and I'd rather AD than be an L.S.P. - my nails can't take it anymore.
