I did not book the thing I flew back to NYC for. I know it’s not a matter of my talent or hard work, and everything else is out of my control. Something else will come along. It’s okay. I’m okay.
Something else better come along. I’m quickly running out of money.
I have never been good at money. If I have it, I tend to spend it. The concept of saving is foreign to me. It really only occurred to me the other day that on the past two major gigs I had, I should have been putting a significant portion of each paycheck into savings. But, alas, I did not. Instead I was like, “Money?! I haven’t had this in long time!” and I did things like take Monty to Disneyland, and buy expensive cheese and shoes I didn’t really need. And flights to NYC for callbacks… It’s okay. I’m okay.
To be fair, I only bought a pair of Converse and a pair of Adidas. It’s not like I’m running around buying Manolo Blahnik’s. And 95% of my clothes come from thrift stores. It pays to be chronically behind on fashion!
I emailed my literary manager yesterday basically saying, “How do I write things?” She hasn’t replied. Probably because she’s like, “Bitch, I don’t know!” (Actually, she’s incredibly nice and supportive, and she’s probably just busy with her clients who are emailing with actual finished pieces…). It’s okay. I’m okay.
It’s looking like we’ll be shooting my short film in the next month or so. If we can raise the money. We need about $30,000. Easy! Mike Bloomberg spends that every time he wipes his ass. I assume he wipes his ass with money. It’s about as practical as spending millions to run for president for two months instead of putting your money behind, I don’t know, Elizabeth Warren? Dick. Anyway, we’re going to be making my movie. So that’s pretty exciting.
I was thinking this morning about how awful and nasty it’s going to get when the Democratic nominee is finally chosen. There is no attack too low for Trump and I’m scared of whatever rhetoric he’s going to spew. I want to crawl into a cave until it’s over. Instead I’ll be doing whatever I can to get him out of office. I am TERRIFIED of what another four years would look like.
Okay, I literally just exhausted myself with that thought. I’m going back to bed.
It’s okay. I’m okay.