A Menace to Myself

This time change is killing me!

I wake up when I normally do, except it’s an hour later on the clock.  I work when I normally do, except I need to wrap things up an hour sooner than I’d like.  I play much sooner than I’d rather, but only because I’ve committed to things that are scheduled for the early evening.  I get home approximately when I normally would, and then as I’m falling asleep on the couch, I remember that it’s already, actually, an hour past my bedtime.

Fuck you daylight savings time!

I’m supposed to be getting together with a friend this evening but I think I’m going to cancel.  Playtime is only funtime when I feel I’ve earned it.  Thus far, my productivity this week has been less than stellar.  Went and called myself into the office this morning to give myself a talking to.

“Your numbers are down kid.  What gives?”

“Huh?” I say back to myself.

And then I lean forward and menace the words out, “You know what I mean.”

“What’s with the 1920’s gangster schtick?” I ask myself innocently.

“You ain’t answered my question.”

And then I remember that I’ve been studying Boardwalk Empire intently for the past week. Watched nine episodes thus far – each of them twice.  I have a 29 page manual for how to write a spec script to the series and I’m determined to get through all three seasons before the month is out.  36 episodes in total – each running at about 54 minutes.  From there I’ll need to draw up a story and write the script.  This will put me into mid-April.

And while I’m doing that, I have all this other shit to do too.

And then I after that, I have a pilot script to write for my own series, Room 31.

“Alright kid,” I says to myself, “you cut yourself a break this time.”

I smile appreciation to myself.

“But don’t ever make me have this talk wit you again!  Got it?”

I nod sheepishly, slink away, and sneak some time in with my laptop to write about recent events.

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