I’m up way too early tomorrow morning. Something like an hour and a half to get across town to this technical college in East London where they keep moving the goalposts about what they want tomorrow. I’ll need to be awake and prepared, and from experience it is a very tricky area in terms of the behavioural demographic. Frequently there’s a very low English comprehension mixed with a lot of very angry young men and women. I’ll have to be alert and ready, and then switched on.
Trying to wind down tonight and running a bath, and struggling to relax. Thinking about my finances when I just want to eat chips. Plus it’s still cold and raining and I’m… I’m just done with today thanks. Can I get off?
I dunno if I’ll be able to sleep even. I am not feeling it. Maybe if I get reading…
First though I’ve got to boot up my laptop and download the correct workshop to my flashdrive as the one I brought with me last time won’t do for the time slot I’ve been allocated tomorrow. It’ll need to be something else and I’ll have to be learning and editing on the fly and I’m honestly just fed up of saying “yes” to everything all the time forever. I want to book a month or two in my diary where I attend to the things in my life that I’m kicking down the road. Problem is I’ll need to be able to afford it.
What the fuck happened to the acting? I was helping Tristan with a self-tape. “Do you think they just give us the tapes as a placebo so we don’t kill ourselves?” “We promise to view every submission,” the bumpf said. Which clarifies what I’ve suspected for a long time, that 90% of the stuff I do on self tape doesn’t even get watched. Eew.
I’m not going down that road tonight. Got to wind down, not up.
It’s already quarter past eight. I’m starving. Bed. I’ve got a bit of relaxation booked with Lou soon thank God. A chance to drop it all and not have to think about difficult things for two days. A joy to come. But for now, two more days of constant.
AlBarclay 