I finally had one moment of happiness during spec writing. I've been wanting to confess to a jury that I'm a horrible person who doesn't deserve life because I've been hating myself so much for not producing an apt portfolio of my writing. It seems like once a year I should produce a spec or play that is great. Nope. They just get slightly better than the thing produced the previous year that was just okay. But I had a nice moment today.
It was about 8:00 when everyone left work and instead of scurrying out with them I forced myself to stay and work on my own things. I never do that because I hate staying in the same place for too long. I will go to a bar and quietly hate myself as others roll their eyes at the pretentious girl in the corner staring blankly at Final Draft and drinking whiskey. Plain whiskey. This girl is a douch bag.
So I stayed hidden inside tonight. Wrote some beats down of what I needed to fix and just chilled out looking at it. I never do that. I never chill out. Especially when I'm writing. That's when I'm the least chill. Every sentence determines my future they must be perfect ahhhhhh no one is ever going to cure cancer!!!!!!!!
So I just chilled the fuck out and sat with my feet up staring at the board, and ideas just magically came. They wafted through the not good story and kind of corrected things and put it all in order. I didn't have to do anything. It was so little work. Then I realized what I was feeling. Like Don Draper. I was Don Draper for a minute out of my life. Sittin' all alone late at night with no one in the building but me and my thoughts.... I could have been a Mad Men character if I was wasted.
I wouldn't have been surprised if left work and came home to notice the perfect amount of man stubble had grown handsomely on face.
Now bring me a sad housewife!
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