T-minus two weeks and counting.
I will be leaving this horrible place behind (Los Angeles) in two weeks to head out to, as I mentioned before (you are not having a bad trip or deja vu or anything like that) that secret UNDISCLOSED location for the filming of The Benefactor. While I am there I will live in a hotel where I will steal as many mini-soaps, washcloths, baby mints (if they leave them on my pillow) and as many extension cords and telephone splitter jacks as I can. Because when I get back, I have a house to do some improvements on.
Then again, I’ll probably walk away with fatigue and good old fashioned tired-ness by the end of the four week production schedule. But you know what? I’ll be jazzed. There’s nothing like going away with cool people and working your you-know-what off (gotta be careful with all this FCC stuff going on around town) and enjoying an experience I like to call “Summer Camp With Pay”.
In other news — I just found out last week that I’ll be getting an assignment to write an article for a National Magazine…the actual name of the mag, of course, will find its way to a computer screen near you when it is 100% for sure. If you know me at all by now, you know that I am extremely superstitious when it comes to mentioning things that are not for sure. People close to me in my life always seem to be frustrated that I can never get excited about things until there is no possibility it is going away. Better safe than embarassed, right?
Oh, the jinx-ness of it all.
There is this bottle of Dom Perignon sitting in my fridge at home that has been there for years. It was always meant to be imbibed when I made, what I considered to be, a huge stride in the professional world of writing. But the thing that you quickly learn as you’re climbing up the ladder of success is that no matter how high you climb, each milestone never seems to be “that one” that was the “big one.”
So, that bottle still sits there for the moment that I dub, “the most amazing, life-affirming, life-changing, substantial, hugely-important, happy and exciting, ultra-insane career moment ever.” It didn’t happen when I was able to make a living writing. It didn’t get opened when I got my book published. It didn’t happen when I started writing movies for TV.
I fear that bottle will stay closed for the rest of my life. Because I’m a perfectionist that will never see perfection.
Which reminds me — I have decided I am no longer a true fan of hard-boiled eggs.