It's one o'clock AM June 10, 2011. I'm wide awake. Not through choice. I'd been lying in the dark for the better part of an hour before I finally came to terms with the fact that either my mind or body (or both) was having none of it and now is apparently the time for me to be wide awake.
I tried very hard to get some writing done but my two main characters refuse to get to where they need to go. They are staunchly waiting in the car. Maybe Eddiphant thinks the hotel has a bellhop who's going to carry all those boxes in for him. It ain't gonna happen, Eddi! You carry your own damn boxes!
So that goes nowhere.
I wish I had a mission like my brother's. He's got a list of video nasties to track down and see. What do I have? I could search for Catch My Soul but how does one begin to search for a lost film? It's not like I can ask the director where it's gotten to (may he rest in peace); according to one article I read he tried to have his name taken off of it anyway. So all I can do is read my press kit and wait for the soundtrack to show up and wonder where do I go from there?
Searching for a lost film is not a profession.
Today at Amoeba I talked a man into buying A&E's volume one of The Prisoner on VHS. He talked me into buying The Bible ... In The Beginning. He seemed like a nice dude; I hope he enjoys the show. I certainly talked it up enough.
Harpo Marx seems to think it's time for Patrick McGoohan to step aside and let someone else have a turn in the spotlight of my mind. Harpo wants his moment to shine. I love Harpo and I had a big crush on him when I was a little girl but I've got about ten McGoohan movies left in the Movie Lottery bucket. I hope Harpo can be patient and wait for his turn 'til I've gotten through those.
It's tough when all your favorite actors are dead. You always know you'll never get to see them on a panel at a convention.
Last night I had a dream about a Former Friend returning into my life. It was an unwelcome return but there was nothing I could do about it. We went to a party at a house I may or may not have ever been to before. There were carnival games and tests of endurance. Former Friend hated the electrical shock booth but I found it exhilirating (just like in real life; if there's an "electrify yourself" machine in an arcade, it is guaranteed to get at least one of my quarters). Off in the corner on a couch sat a Current Friend, who I joined to watch a Muppet movie. I must have said the wrong thing, though, because Current Friend stormed away then returned with a STRONGLY WORDED LETTER WRITTEN IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS that essentially told me to go to hell and die, that I should never speak to Current Friend again. I was miserable.
Then my cell phone startled me awake with its "You Have A Text Message" noise. I chose the quietest alert tone available and it still wakes me. I am a very light sleeper.
My brain continues to play Honey by The Hush Sound in a loop. I don't know very many of the lyrics. Mostly it plays the "you are my love" and "you always let me down" parts.
I wish I could sleep. Or, at the very least, get over my writers block. Perhaps I need a change of focus. Maybe I should get to work on that musical I'll never finish because I don't know how to write music. Maybe I should just jump to the middle of the story and not even worry about how to get my characters out of where they are now. Maybe a third thing.
If I'm not going to have anything to do over the next couple of weeks I may as well just skip them and go straight to Chicago. I really hope my refunded application fee arrives before I leave.
There's no point in looking for a job when you'd have to ask for time off immediately.
When you bother to stop and think, that's when it all falls apart.
I have ten different nailpolishes. Each finger is a different color. I've always wanted that to happen.
I don't think my mom has that Why A Duck? book anymore. It probably wouldn't be worth it to go out to the living room and look. And I'm already in the middle of a book.
I think there need to be more evil Draculas and fewer romantic Draculas.
I don't like movie romance because it makes me hate myself. I don't think I'll ever find perfect movie love (or any at all, really; none that's returned, anyway). And I don't need to watch unrequited love stories, I've lived plenty enough of my own.
I'm embarrassed to have shared that. Luckily, nobody reads this blog.
Maybe I could try sleeping again. It's rather obvious I'm tired.
I will sleep late into the morning and hate my life all the more because of it. Any day that starts after nine AM is a day wasted. Lately all my days are wasted.
Any work that needs to be done or errands that need to be run should be over and done with by six PM. Nighttime is for fun and or relaxation. Nighttime is when dinners with friends happen, when comedy shows and plays are attended, when board games are played, when quality time with family and friends is spent. Work at night is only acceptable if the work is performance. Any other nighttime work is depressing and wasteful.
I am wasting my life.
I am wasting my life.
I am wasting my life.
I don't know how to stop wasting my life.
If it's never going to get any better I may as well just give up now.
That sounds far more drastic than it was intended.
I read somewhere once that intelligent people tend more toward night owlism and depression. So at least I'm not an idiot. It's refreshing to know I'm an intelligent waste of space.
It's one thirty AM on June 10, 2011. I'm wide awake. Not through choice.
Be seeing you.
-Sally
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