I got to work this morning and the truck wasn't there. Sometimes it'll run late but be there by at least 5. Then 5 came and went and still no truck. So until we heard from the distribution center we BS-ed and changed some headless mannequins clothes and the like. Then we were told the truck wouldn't be here in enough time for us to get shipment done before the store opened. Long story short, I woke up at 4 this morning to work for an hour and a half. And now the truck is coming tomorrow.
I know it sounds like I'm a pussy, but it is really exhausting waking up at 4 or 5 every morning only to work for 4 hours. Cause then I come home and have to try to stay awake until 8 or 9 that night. If I take a nap then I end up awake at midnight, staring at the ceiling, willing myself to sleep. This is why I want a second job. I can come home, hang out for a bit, take care of the dog, then go to another job for about 4 or 5 hours. And the extra money. I also want a second job for the extra money.
My mom is involved in community theatre around these parts and the one theatre she's a mainstay at is looking for local playwrites so they don't have to pay royalty fees and she keeps pushing me to finish a play so they can put it on. Except none of my ideas are ready to be seen yet, and the one good one I think I have is still just a tiny little spark. And it would need to be done by December or January.
It would be good motivation, and it would get my work out there, and I could put it on a resume (I'm not actually sure, do writer's have resumes? Or is it just a reputation?) but the real problem I'm facing is that I have no one to discuss it with. No one to bounce ideas off of.
Which brings me to why I enjoy Mad Men so much. I love the creative process. When I did 24-Hour Theatre, the few years that I did do it, I really enjoyed talking things out with my writing partners. I liked being on a team and I wasn't afraid of saying something stupid because I would also be able to say something funny. All the teams I was on, everyone was very helpful and encouraging. It is impossible for me to be encouraging when I'm the only writer. I can only be disdainful and patronizing.
I also really enjoyed Studio 60 on The Sunset Strip for the behind-the-scenes look at making a sketch comedy show. That was one of my favorite shows, the whole 22 episodes it lasted. Poor Aaron Sorkin. Aside from The West Wing his TV shows don't exactly soar.
I also would not get paid for the play. Which makes it difficult to get motivated.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
The Bright Side of Life
I think tomorrow's the day I do it. Tomorrow's the day I wear a skirt to work. Maybe I should wait until Friday. There's no shipment on Friday. Just signage. Which shouldn't involve ladders for any reason. Unless they switch me to something else, like they did this morning... I'll have to think on this decision.
The reception this past weekend went wonderfully. Like everything else major that happens in this family it came down to the wire. People were showing up and my dad hadn't even showered yet. He was hanging out in sweat pants and he was all sweaty and gross from moving tables and chairs. But we got it together before Jeremy's guests showed up. My family knows what to expect, his doesn't. I'd like to keep them in the dark a little bit longer.
It got a little too loud for my tastes later into the night. And people kept deviating from my playlist. I would've preferred the music to stay big band and swing and a little mellow, but I know everyone loves to dance. Except my husband. But we did get our one dance, a slow song of course. It was after most guests had left though and we were the only ones really paying attention so naturally there are no pictures.
In fact, there aren't really any pictures of anything aside from one big group photo and Jeremy and I cutting the cake. Twice. We did it the first time and nobody said anything to me about pausing to mug for the camera, cause that's not something I generally do, so we had to pretend we were cutting it a second time. And I look pregnant in the pictures. I had meant to pick up some Spanx or something but I just never got around to it and I really regret that decision now. I also really regret having friends and family who let that happen with no regard for myself and the people that I can't show these pictures to because I'm self-conscious. Thanks family.
On the other hand at least I wasn't wearing Spanx and then blatantly showing them to everyone because I don't know how to sit like a lady. Talking about one guest in particular here, but no I won't be specific. Cause what if they actually read this. Oh snap.
I do love the web page for Spanx. None of those women look like they need the item they're modeling. Is that because that's how amazing Spanx are? No. Because I can count the one models ribs. She could be a xylophone. The plus-size page is my absolute favorite. Not one of those bitches is bigger than I am. I either need to get me some Spanx for just like, all the times, or I need to reevaluate my eating habits and exercise regime.
I made Jeremy watch The Usual Suspects last night. He didn't seem as impressed with it as I was. My one brother even told me the ending before I saw it and I was still amazed with it. But Jeremy was like, 'it's good.' Which is basically like saying, 'meh.'
I spent my entire shift at work organizing jeans in the dude department. Four hours of just, reading planograms and muttering angrily under my breath about how stupid the fuckers who shop there and who work there are. Before I started, my supervisor asked me if I know how to POG (read a planogram, and follow it) and I stared at her blankly for a moment before thinking of a polite response. Because the first one that came into my head was along the lines of, 'are you asking if I'm at, or above, a third grade reading level?'
My family asked me how my job hunt was going this weekend. 'I saw on Facebook you were talking about being tired of interviews, mah mah mah.' I hate not seeing people for a while and having to catch up and be like, yes I do still work at that crappy job. And live in that crappy apartment. And drive that crappy vehicle. I couldn't even be like, 'and this is my husband, Jeremy,' cause he's already met all of the family that was there.
At one point, I started saying hi to people, re-greeting them, and saying, 'and of course you remember my husband.'
Because nothing else has changed.
...Sigh
The reception this past weekend went wonderfully. Like everything else major that happens in this family it came down to the wire. People were showing up and my dad hadn't even showered yet. He was hanging out in sweat pants and he was all sweaty and gross from moving tables and chairs. But we got it together before Jeremy's guests showed up. My family knows what to expect, his doesn't. I'd like to keep them in the dark a little bit longer.
It got a little too loud for my tastes later into the night. And people kept deviating from my playlist. I would've preferred the music to stay big band and swing and a little mellow, but I know everyone loves to dance. Except my husband. But we did get our one dance, a slow song of course. It was after most guests had left though and we were the only ones really paying attention so naturally there are no pictures.
In fact, there aren't really any pictures of anything aside from one big group photo and Jeremy and I cutting the cake. Twice. We did it the first time and nobody said anything to me about pausing to mug for the camera, cause that's not something I generally do, so we had to pretend we were cutting it a second time. And I look pregnant in the pictures. I had meant to pick up some Spanx or something but I just never got around to it and I really regret that decision now. I also really regret having friends and family who let that happen with no regard for myself and the people that I can't show these pictures to because I'm self-conscious. Thanks family.
On the other hand at least I wasn't wearing Spanx and then blatantly showing them to everyone because I don't know how to sit like a lady. Talking about one guest in particular here, but no I won't be specific. Cause what if they actually read this. Oh snap.
I do love the web page for Spanx. None of those women look like they need the item they're modeling. Is that because that's how amazing Spanx are? No. Because I can count the one models ribs. She could be a xylophone. The plus-size page is my absolute favorite. Not one of those bitches is bigger than I am. I either need to get me some Spanx for just like, all the times, or I need to reevaluate my eating habits and exercise regime.
I made Jeremy watch The Usual Suspects last night. He didn't seem as impressed with it as I was. My one brother even told me the ending before I saw it and I was still amazed with it. But Jeremy was like, 'it's good.' Which is basically like saying, 'meh.'
I spent my entire shift at work organizing jeans in the dude department. Four hours of just, reading planograms and muttering angrily under my breath about how stupid the fuckers who shop there and who work there are. Before I started, my supervisor asked me if I know how to POG (read a planogram, and follow it) and I stared at her blankly for a moment before thinking of a polite response. Because the first one that came into my head was along the lines of, 'are you asking if I'm at, or above, a third grade reading level?'
My family asked me how my job hunt was going this weekend. 'I saw on Facebook you were talking about being tired of interviews, mah mah mah.' I hate not seeing people for a while and having to catch up and be like, yes I do still work at that crappy job. And live in that crappy apartment. And drive that crappy vehicle. I couldn't even be like, 'and this is my husband, Jeremy,' cause he's already met all of the family that was there.
At one point, I started saying hi to people, re-greeting them, and saying, 'and of course you remember my husband.'
Because nothing else has changed.
...Sigh
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