So, I’ve been fixing a hole for almost two weeks now. It’s been intense. It’s something I thought would take ten days to two weeks. Turns out it’s gonna take more like three weeks. Or not quite. But something more than two weeks. That’s for damn sure.
And while I’d like to blame the kitties (see below) or the effin’ inevitable throwing out of my gawtdamn back AGAIN (see every few months for the past year, it seems, despite valiant efforts at diet and exercise to keep my back healthy), it seems I can’t blame anything. This sort of effort simply takes as long as it takes. And in for a penny means in for a pound, like it or not. At least for me.
Day Five: Everything work-related is brought into the living room. I begin a life in the floor.
The goal is to put all things casting in one area, all things writing in another area, and all things speaking or producing or consulting or anything else related elsewhere.
Big chunks first. Then we further compartmentalize. And by “we,” I mean “me,” (or rather, “I,” since grammatical correctness is important to me). As is hoarding, it would seem.
Day Six: Archie — totally useless. Surprise.
Also useless: Salema.
Unrepentantly useless: Thwok. Whore belly. Natch.
Day Seven: Oh, it looks like it’s gonna be another day of solo efforts ’round here. (Bless our sad, dead orchids which Keith is sure he can fix.)
Again. Being judged. At this point, I realize it’s been a week since I’ve left the house. That’s not a problem, except that I feel I should have accomplished a LOT more.
Day Eight: A LOT more. I expected alphabetized spiceracks by now. And now my back is out. (See above.) I am so flippin’ annoyed I can’t see straight. I know it’s from sitting in the floor for 20 hours at a time, but I’m pissed. How DARE my back go out on me?
The good news is, most all of my casting work is making it into binders. This should help a GREAT deal, as I field the bid requests that are coming in. (Yes. They keep coming in. I’m not complaining. I just owe like a half-dozen producers an answer. This will help.)
Okay, fine. On this note, I leave the apartment. Yes, even though my back is seizing up upon every tap of the brakes (yay for driving with the clutch), I leave. I go to the Naked Angels‘ Tuesdays@9 series (which I haven’t been to since September 2004, when Blake proposed Acting Qs to me). I took my rejected spec script and three stand-alone scenes from the showcase and meekly, timidly handed them in, realizing that no matter how much one rocks at one level in this industry, there is always a place to start over and feel like a total newbie.
Day Nine: The binders are looking good. But I’m obsessed with both my back pain (and bonus cramps — yay menses) and something I learned last night: That someone I thought I knew took her own life since the last time I saw her, emailed with her, spoke with her. There’s a chill in me that I can’t shake, now.
Thwok is so in love with plastic bags. She’s the exact opposite of the adult cats, who fear plastic of all kind. Anyway… I can’t stop thinking about what makes someone commit suicide. And I guess I kind of know, having attempted it 17 years ago. Good lord, that was forever ago, wasn’t it? Eesh.
These are the containers Keith brought home from Target. I am in love. 😉 Still troubled. Still thinking about the woman I thought I knew. Still wondering what it is that makes anyone feel so alone, so troubled, so completely un-help-able in life that she will end it all. But then I also know that sometimes it’s just a matter of one wave of thoughts. One cycle of “thinking better of it.” One brush with perspective that can make anyone so very creative and tortured decide to choose to stick around. Man.
Why for the love of God do I have a thousand postcards? Why? Out they go. Well… all but a couple hundy, anyway.
Day Ten: I have accomplished something huge. I have found a way to put ALL of the Casting Qs, Acting Qs, and Acting Out raw materials into one, small file box. Everything else is in the trash. Phew! It’s really exciting. PS — My back is now in such excruciating pain that I am crying out, constantly. Keith is beside himself with helplessness. I wish I had squirreled away a Vicodin somewhere. For the love of FUCK, I am in pain.
Thrilled that Keith bought so many bins. I’m using them both to sort and to ultimately create organization. Life is good. But I’m still in pain and I’m still troubled about the girl I thought I knew killing herself. Stop, stop, stop with the troubled feeling, Bon. You’ve got work to do. Oy, my back. Again, stop.
Oh, look at those lovely shelves! We are SO on the way. I am now splitting my non-organizing time between selecting book covers for the 3rd edition of Self-Management for Actors and wondering if I’ve gotten as far, emotionally/spiritually with my “fixing a hole” process as I have with the physical — again, wishing I were further along with all of the above.
I’m feeling good about what I’ve done so far, even though I still have a ways to go. I am very pleased to have only turned on my computer for an hour each day (doing most work from my BlackBerry — which I now refuse to name because I’m certain I will be replacing it with an iPhone in 2008, to go along with my November ’07 black MacBook on which there will be absolutely no Microsoft products whatsoever if I have my way) but not at all pleased about living on the sofa, all propped up on pillows and reeking of BenGay (although it’s actually something called BioFreeze, but you get the point). I seriously HATE that my body has to shut down when I want to get a lot done. It’s such a battle. Good thing I’m stubborn.
Day Eleven: I’ve hit a wall. It’s a stall. Can’t do nothin’. Nothin’ at all.
Good thing I have useless kitties to help me do nothing.
Such a good thing.
One more binder to finish… but the producers keep needing one last thing (even though I’ve been off the clock for over a month). Eesh. I’m sooo gonna start taking producer credits on these low budget projects. I really don’t mind the mentoring, but man, it’d be nice to have it all be FOR something sometimes.
Day Twelve: I’m back in the floor. I’m playing with my favorite things: office supplies. I swear, my version of porn is the Office Depot catalogue. Let me loose at Staples or Office Max and you’ve unleashed a fiend.
Can’t throw these zip disks and floppy disks away just yet. Keith’s convinced that we will find a way to get the goods off ’em and burn ’em to our hard drives or DVDs or something… but I’m not sure that’s gonna happen. Still, I’m not throwing away my cassette tapes either. I do have faith in that whole analog-to-digital transfer. It’s all about time, really. Kind of like wedging into a really tight parking space. Given enough time, it’ll happen.
New favorite box: my art supplies. Oh, how I miss that “minoring in art” part of my life! I really did create a lot of lovely things. I forget what an outlet that was for me. I guess writing has taken the place of that, now. But still, I do miss the smell, the feel, the thought of my charcoals and conté crayons.
Ah! How lovely is this bookcase shaping up?!? The writing and the casting is leaping into binders. The office supplies are in bins and boxes. Everything is labeled and clean… almost. Ooh, I somehow feel good despite the fact that I’m hunched over like an arthritic senior citizen. (I’m grumbling like one too.)
Trash — OUT! Out, out, OUT! This has been the funnest part: all the trash goes out, out, OUT! Several trips a day.
Cut to: another useless cat. *sigh* She is pretty, though.
Let’s call it a montage of useless cat photos. I swear, these Archie photos were all taken on different days. He is THAT predictable. No wonder he and Keith get along so well.
And while I’m snapping photos of the useless animals, Keith says, “Do me.” So, here he is too. Happy Nonaversary, m’love. 🙂
Oh, our Nonaversary. I did say I was going to explain that, didn’t I?
Well, this blog post is already a record-holdingly long one and I have a buttload of work to get done this weekend, so I’ll call this a bookmark to that story. I will share it. It’s good. 😉 And Keith and I even have a really cool spa/resort weekend trip planned for later this month to celebrate our Nonaversary, so maybe that’s when I’ll roll the tale out.
’til then, I guess this is just another of those “Fixing a Hole Progress Reports.” I’m alive. I’m improving. I still have a great deal to do. And it’s all gonna get done. I’m more patient with myself today than I have been. I think learning about someone I thought I knew having chosen to be impatient with life’s solutions for how it’s supposed to work out for her has inspired me to take my time with just about everything. It’s the better choice, for damn sure.
Bonnie Gillespie is living her dreams by helping others figure out how to live theirs. Wanna work with Bon? Start here. Thanks!