First, let’s talk about Me.
Last Friday, my vacation from the production ended.
The studio issued us laptops for ‘production use only, ‘ and one of the biggest rules in this line of work is that you don’t use company time (or equipment) to work on writing that isn’t related to the show. I’m a script jockey, I don’t work on this show in a creative capacity; at least I get to telecommute. I wouldn’t be sweating this if I had just knuckled down and did the work.
My time management on the 1st draft edit was terrible. The manuscript tells two different stories, and I must force them together as one. Unfortunately, my work ethic sucks. All of April was meant for a 2nd draft pass, but I’m still working on tightening my plot and fixing dialogue (1st draft shit). When I can’t work up the motivation to do it, I’ve been fixing links and menus on the Series Bible (or watching a copious amount of TV).
Okay, here we go.
Mag and I spent Friday together binge-watching True Detective season 1 (it’s nice having a living room in my master suite). We got a chance to talk about expectations.
I’m not keen on sending Mag to college until they’re back on their medication. Mag’s resisted returning to the meds because taking them means somehow, they’re a failure as an adult. I explained to Mag that taking their depression meds was no different than me having to take meds for the thyroid–it’s necessary to function. Mag’s not a failure because they need meds to cope, they’re a failure if they know what’s wrong, and do nothing about it. (Hey, I’m not the mom of the year.) In anticipation of returning to their medication, Mag had to quit the retail job. Adjustment to the meds was a trying time when they began taking them their senior year; it’s not fair to their employer if they’re constantly calling out because of mood imbalance and physical side-effects.
The doctor I scheduled Mag to see, rescheduled, and this upset me a great deal; I explained the situation with Mag being off their meds because of the move and having to acquire a new physician, but scheduling was unsympathetic. There aren’t enough Doctor’s up here to meet patient demand, and so I’m forced to just eat shit and deal until I can get Mag seen and have their meds refilled. I didn’t express this anger in front of Mag, the last thing they need is for me raging about their Doctor visit. I’ll be content when Mag regains the ability to cope (the meds help with this) and starts college in the fall.
Nothing insightful today, see you next week.