As in, "It's alive! IT'S ALIVE!" once more. This was one long, tiring, kick-me-in-the-balls week where everything seemed determined to run me into the ground. After that ludicrously long drive down to DC, I packed 2500 books of photography into 63 boxes that weighed an average of 50 lbs each. Shifted them all around this tiny room so I could keep going. Didn't do too bad, but my back, legs, and feet were not happy...and I just could not concentrate on getting the ebook for The Vanishing of Owen Taylor done.
So I hired a couple guys to come load the boxes into the van...neither of them over 30 and so damned spry and easy about those heavy boxes, I felt a hundred years old. Then came a 300 mile drive that ran into a backup that would do the 405 at rush hour proud. No reason, just...10 miles an hour for 28 miles. I left DC with more than enough gas to get me to my destination; I had to stop and fill up.
Then came unloading the van...which I had to assist in because the people taking delivery didn't get any help from the union guys. So I got nice and beat from that. Then I had to do a run into Manhattan so I could pick up some things to pack for shipment...and it seems half of NYC's streets are under construction, and just try to find parking, even commercial (the van had commercial plates). I'd planned to grab a bite to eat after I did the pick-up; instead, I wound up doing the illegal thing and rushing in and rushing out before parking enforcement could catch me.
What capped it off was, as I was backing up to get out of the parking spot, a woman walked behind me then screamed at me for backing up. Bitch saw what I was doing...hell, I was already in motion...but she still got snarly. And I got snarly right back. So VERY NYC.
Getting out of the city was no problem, but it was closing in on 2pm and I still hadn't eaten, so I pulled off the freeway into Parsipanny, NJ to have a burger at a 5 Guys. What they don't tell you in New Jersey is, once you get off the freeway, you can't get back on. I should say, there are ways to reconnect with it...if you go down this road then left on that avenue and circle around this spot and hit a completely different freeway that will take you back where you need to be. Thank God I had GPS on my phone; I'd still be there.
Of course, during a job like this I eat like crap and it caught up with me, so by the time I got home at 10pm, I was sliding into a nice depression. I thought a late-night breakfast at a diner wold help, like I'd do in LA, at Norm's. Couple eggs over easy, hash-browns, bacon, pancakes, toast...about 1500 calories but comfort food's always perfect at mindnight. Problem is, the only 24 hour diner in Buffalo is Denny's. Okay, I can live with that.
Wrong. It was in chaos. Took me 10 minutes to get seated. I got a pot of tea...and then I got ignored by every waiter in the restaurant. No, not ignored, looked at and ignored. No one would take my order. Even the manager said, "Someone'll be with you"...and no one came. I finally went to the register and said I'd like to pay for the tea...and it hadn't even been input. They let me have it for free. How nice.
Well...I did a total crash and burn, and would have slept till noon but I had a dental appointment at 10, this morning, so had to get up for that. And I got the most sadistic bitch of an assistant. Lectured me non-stop about flossing daily, dug under my gums to clean, kept putting my head in very uncomfortable positions so she could dig deeper, and I came damn close to hitting her, once. By the time she was done, I had splatters of blood all over my bib. I mentioned how rough she was to the dentist and got the "It's tough love, to make you floss" crap. My mouth still aches. I think I'm looking for a new dentist.
Then I picked up my mail and saw the proof I'd ordered of OT...and went into crash and burn, again. The printed version does not resemble the PDF proof I got. The cover image is just crooked enough to notice, as is the interior text. I wrote them an e-mail asking about this then ordered another proof, to see if this was just a one-time thing. But it's not the capper I wanted for the week.
The one positive thing was I got a decent restructure of Mine To Kill worked out, along with the reason for the script and why it's important for Martha and (now) Matt to have their conflict. It's all about control and how sometimes that can be very, very bad. I did it as I drove, since there were many occasions where I was only piddling along.
I'll discuss the script (or story) more later. Right now I just needed to vent my frustration with a week that seemed insistent on making my life as hard as possible. And I do feel better.
Except for my mouth...which still fucking hurts...
So I hired a couple guys to come load the boxes into the van...neither of them over 30 and so damned spry and easy about those heavy boxes, I felt a hundred years old. Then came a 300 mile drive that ran into a backup that would do the 405 at rush hour proud. No reason, just...10 miles an hour for 28 miles. I left DC with more than enough gas to get me to my destination; I had to stop and fill up.
Then came unloading the van...which I had to assist in because the people taking delivery didn't get any help from the union guys. So I got nice and beat from that. Then I had to do a run into Manhattan so I could pick up some things to pack for shipment...and it seems half of NYC's streets are under construction, and just try to find parking, even commercial (the van had commercial plates). I'd planned to grab a bite to eat after I did the pick-up; instead, I wound up doing the illegal thing and rushing in and rushing out before parking enforcement could catch me.
What capped it off was, as I was backing up to get out of the parking spot, a woman walked behind me then screamed at me for backing up. Bitch saw what I was doing...hell, I was already in motion...but she still got snarly. And I got snarly right back. So VERY NYC.
Getting out of the city was no problem, but it was closing in on 2pm and I still hadn't eaten, so I pulled off the freeway into Parsipanny, NJ to have a burger at a 5 Guys. What they don't tell you in New Jersey is, once you get off the freeway, you can't get back on. I should say, there are ways to reconnect with it...if you go down this road then left on that avenue and circle around this spot and hit a completely different freeway that will take you back where you need to be. Thank God I had GPS on my phone; I'd still be there.
Of course, during a job like this I eat like crap and it caught up with me, so by the time I got home at 10pm, I was sliding into a nice depression. I thought a late-night breakfast at a diner wold help, like I'd do in LA, at Norm's. Couple eggs over easy, hash-browns, bacon, pancakes, toast...about 1500 calories but comfort food's always perfect at mindnight. Problem is, the only 24 hour diner in Buffalo is Denny's. Okay, I can live with that.
Wrong. It was in chaos. Took me 10 minutes to get seated. I got a pot of tea...and then I got ignored by every waiter in the restaurant. No, not ignored, looked at and ignored. No one would take my order. Even the manager said, "Someone'll be with you"...and no one came. I finally went to the register and said I'd like to pay for the tea...and it hadn't even been input. They let me have it for free. How nice.
Well...I did a total crash and burn, and would have slept till noon but I had a dental appointment at 10, this morning, so had to get up for that. And I got the most sadistic bitch of an assistant. Lectured me non-stop about flossing daily, dug under my gums to clean, kept putting my head in very uncomfortable positions so she could dig deeper, and I came damn close to hitting her, once. By the time she was done, I had splatters of blood all over my bib. I mentioned how rough she was to the dentist and got the "It's tough love, to make you floss" crap. My mouth still aches. I think I'm looking for a new dentist.
Then I picked up my mail and saw the proof I'd ordered of OT...and went into crash and burn, again. The printed version does not resemble the PDF proof I got. The cover image is just crooked enough to notice, as is the interior text. I wrote them an e-mail asking about this then ordered another proof, to see if this was just a one-time thing. But it's not the capper I wanted for the week.
The one positive thing was I got a decent restructure of Mine To Kill worked out, along with the reason for the script and why it's important for Martha and (now) Matt to have their conflict. It's all about control and how sometimes that can be very, very bad. I did it as I drove, since there were many occasions where I was only piddling along.
I'll discuss the script (or story) more later. Right now I just needed to vent my frustration with a week that seemed insistent on making my life as hard as possible. And I do feel better.
Except for my mouth...which still fucking hurts...
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