Friday, June 24, 2011

It's Lonely At The Top

Sometimes I worry about the fact that I am a champion time-waster. No one can compete with me. You may think you can, I can give the impression of getting a few things done, here and there, and you may have the thought, no, no way, I can waste twice as much time as she can. But you are wrong. So very wrong. So very, very wrong. See that was just a little sample of two maybe three milliseconds of time wasting; the fact that I wrote a sentence with the words “very very” in it. Right there. Like it was nothing. See how good I am? Also the fact that I have now written the words “The fact that…” three times even though Strunk and White (Elements of Style, google it babe) have written that you should never do that. What would Strunk and White say about LOL, I wonder, or WTF? See? I just did it AGAIN; I distracted myself from my main focus with a question. Three points. Shabam. You don’t stand a chance.

Ok so anyway, I’m writing this because I am sick of staring at a script I have been working on for almost ten years. I’m on page 34. I’m still staring at this. When will it end. The thing is, it’s fantastic. The script I mean. Of course it is. How do I have so much confidence when I am a failure at so many things? I just cried as I wrote that, cried and then laughed. Is that a bad sign?

I have an image of myself sitting at a table in front of the computer just clicking through different sites, just navigating through, from house decorating to amazon books, to wedding decorations, to shoe sales, to different blogs, to entertainment “news”, to Huff Po, to medical diseases most common to those in my family, to a photo of George Clooney in 5th grade. I need to see that, I need to have a good, long look. See George was a dork once, how about that? He may have even possibly cut his own hair with a pair of nail clippers. And now he’s, well he’s George, he’s charming and funny and politically correct. That’s got to be a good sign. There’s hope. Although he did just break up with another girlfriend. Hmm.

Omg, I just distracted myself. I’m that good, people, while writing about wasting time, I distracted myself. There’s no way you stand a chance. The image of myself, that’s what I’m talking about. (Did you notice how rhythmically similar that sounds to “To Be or Not To Be, That is the question?”) The image of myself is this: Of a person stuffing all these thoughts, sites, videos, photos, into my mouth, like a squirrell stuffing nuts. It’s soul crushing: this information stuffing as a way of distraction thing that I do and yet I can’t stop. That’s what all the champions say: I can’t stop.

There should be an award for this.

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