Just Write Something!

You know I should be working on a script at the moment but as it’s not a paid gig I’m really unmotivated to do it. It came up when there was another halt to the television series. David – who for some reason believes in me - suggested I write a spec script to show around some other production companies. I told him I didn’t know what to write and he suggested writing up Know It All? from the Go Girl! series. They had already written a script treatment of it and as he pointed out there is dialogue in the book itself. Thus it’s a bit easier than making something up on my own. Still I’m a little freaked out to start.

I’ve written maybe two scripts in my life and neither were in a professional format. (I emailed David about how that was slowing me down and he said don’t worry that’s what secretaries are for. Just write it. He’s right but I’m still a slacker).

I’m too scared of failing to try. God! Realising that doesn’t help. If I do write it and it sucks, what then? If I do write it and it’s good but doesn’t get me any more work then why bother? But Amy if you do write it and it’s good what if it becomes an actual episode of Go Girl!? I hate building up hope. They’ve been dashed and bashed so many times before. I can admit that I’m not the bounce back from rejection type.

Oh for God’s sake just write something! At least then you can say you tried.

Back To Work

I’m obviously not very good at this blogging lark. The reason I started it was to chart my progress in the media industry – assuming once I wedged my big toe in the door my foot was surely to follow. Well everybody I am back. Sort of. (Huh?)

On May 12 I got an email from my old boss telling me what was up with the project. Some meetings have been pencilled in between the publishers and the production company. I was tentatively being invited to come to them even though the two women in the company weren’t convinced there was a role for me. They both know people who’ve been through the training etc. But David stuck up for me. He knows how difficult it is to get the aforementioned foot-in-the-door. Even a wide PNG foot like mine.

I was quite sad getting that email. It seemed like it was finally going to happen, but without me. Is that worse than it not happening at all? I’m not sure.

Anyway, the “good” news is David did talk them into letting me finish off what I had started last year. Reading and writing summaries of the books they are adapting into a television show. I just finished the last book this afternoon. My God, talk about overload! I have a bit of work to do on the summaries though.

One of those meetings with the publishers is supposed to be happening on Monday. I think I’m allowed to go. (I’ll even get paid). I’m a bit nervous about that. It’s something new. And I’m a bit worried about meeting the other two women from the production company. Actually I met one last year. I haven’t met the director. (I used to want to be a director. Perhaps I still do, deep down). The first day I went in David told me not to take it personally. It’s more an experience thing. I can’t help taking it a little personally though. I sense resentment but that may just be in my head. It’s catch-22, how can I get experience if no one gives me a chance?

This past week I’ve been doing my reading and summaries. I’ve also been babysitting David’s grandson and going to my cleaning job at night. It’s been a long week. Three jobs and I don’t think I did justice to any of them. That’s not true. I did the cleaning properly. I refer to it as my “official” job. I’m a sucker for obligation and responsibility, no matter how much I hate the job.

It would be nice to be in a position where I knew it was safe to quit cleaning. However I’ve been waiting and disappointed too many times by this television project to take the risk. And of course a cleaning job – cringe and double cringe – is better than no job at all.

Village Views

I’m finally putting some photos up from my trip to Papua New Guinea in February and March. The photo part was easy but I did wonder what I should write about going back to PNG. I can’t really explain the anxiety I felt over going back. With twenty years or so to build, the emotional stress levels where high.

I don’t regret it though. It was so good to see my dad. It was so much easier to talk to him in person than long distance over the phone. I'm going to steal from my notebook.

February 26 2009

There’s still a lot I don’t understand about [my dad] and PNG but I talked a lot with [him] since I landed yesterday. It was really good. I didn’t realise how green and beautiful Port Moresby is. Surrounded by mountains. That’s what I like most. As [my dad] said, “Wait to you see the village.”

Yes the village; the important part of the trip. I haven’t lived in Port Moresby since 1989 and I haven’t been up to the village since I was a baby. (I know, I know! I already feel bad enough). It scared me though. I can’t handle that sort of attention and intense emotion. And you do feel like a celebrity there. Which is a very odd feeling. Very topsy-turvy in that we mean so much there and so little here. I should correct that and say I feel like so little here. My sister’s life seems to be going well and to plan.

I should have come back sooner. Although at times I am still scared and sad to be back. At times it’s exciting/scary. Dangerous and thrilling. (Gees Amy, you haven’t been here that long. But here’s some thoughts anyway).

Apart from a couple of cards/letter that’s almost all I wrote while I was there. I had the time; I’m just a lazy bitch.

Not quite the order I wanted to present them in but it's been difficult enough getting these photos up.

Star-Crossed

No, no, no! That can’t be right. My star sign said today, and I quote, “There may be a little surprise of a professional nature that could change your plans.” (Plans?) I thought it meant I’d finally get an email saying yes come back to work in the television industry. We love you and missed you terribly. (Nope). Emphasis on “may” I guess. (That’s how they get you!) When I got to work I was surprised to find my security pass wasn’t working. Apparently my temporary time had elapsed. It’s funny, I knew it was a temporary card but I never thought it would expire. Now I’m “Contract” and proper. How depressing! It’s silly but when I was temporary there was some hope, you know? But as my boss pointed out I should never have been temporary in the first place.

Before going to PNG I broke my security pass. (I took that as a good sign). It almost snapped in half when I was changing the bags in one of the rubbish bins. How you may wonder. It was when I dropped one of the plastic bins back into the slot and it landed on the card. That’s one problem with wearing it around my neck. It dangles. Often dips into the toilet bowls. Good-o!

Perhaps I should seek my hope from somewhere else. I just like to read my horoscope from The Age when I’m online and checking other things. They really need a proof reader for them. I could do that. I found out recently my mum sometimes wrote the horoscopes when she worked for Niugini News. She was a proof reader and occasional sub editor. I thought that was cool. Pity she wasn’t able to continue with it.

Weak End

I’ve had another long week at work. I covered for a day shift three times then went on to my shift.

The first time I went in was on Monday. Which was a bit disappointing for me because that was the day our friend from New York was going back home. I got to say goodbye in the morning but I had thought I was going to the airport too. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit but by 2 o’clock I was overwhelmed with sadness. I couldn’t stop crying. Not just because she had left but I think because I missed out on a lot of the visit being at work, and I also felt sad about not spending more time in PNG. It was sort of like getting a glimpse of an old life and then having it snatched away again. It really highlighted how crappy my life is. (Hooray!) In a lot of ways I feel cheated.

I had a drink or two - wasn’t exactly pouring out standard measures - to celebrate on Friday when it was finally over. I had too much gin and a headache most of Saturday. We went out to a friend’s place for dinner on Saturday night, that’s about the time my head felt better. But then I felt like a loser being surrounded by academics and refused to talk about my job when asked what I do. (Yeah not very mature but it does make me feel pathetic). My sister and I were there to talk about PNG. Apart from the fact that I was there for less than a fortnight and therefore didn’t have enough time to experience it properly I find it really hard to talk about it. I feel bad I don’t know more about it and my heritage. I did make the effort while I was there but the first time I talked about it back in Melbourne I felt like I hadn’t learnt anything.

I’ve been feeling like shit lately anyway but that night just brought on a new bout of depression.

Just thought I’d share that with you.

Wednesday March 11 2009

I’ve just had the longest day of my life. So long it’s turned into tomorrow. I knew it would by the time I was able to write this.

Here’s how it started: While I was still in bed, (on Wednesday morning), I got a call from my boss asking if I could cover for someone who was sick. I said yes. I’d done it before and it had been all right. It was my first day back to work after my trip home to PNG* and I really wasn’t looking forward to it. Starting in the afternoon, as I normally do, would have meant having the whole day before me to resent the fact I had to go back to work. This way I just had to get up and get on with it.
* Maybe more on that later; loads of photos to show off.

I actually was meant to start on Tuesday. I was so pleased to get an extra day off from work! It was my mum’s birthday on the tenth and it was rather sad that I was going back to work that day and missing out on having dinner with her. It was so silly, well I think it was, getting that extra day off. My boss called the night before because she didn’t remember what day I started back. I told her it was Tuesday but then quickly added it was my mum’s birthday and could I have the day off to celebrate. (A bit impulsive for me). She was fine with it. Well she obviously would have my replacement on standby anyway. Still I thought it was very nice of her. My mum was so happy. They’re so cute sometimes.

What a way to go back to work. I did eleven and a half hours today. Two extra hours on my normal shift because there was so much to catch up on. It can’t be true, but it felt like they hadn’t done anything for the two weeks I was away. And they didn’t do any common courtesy things like rinsing the mop or emptying the vacuum cleaner at the end of their shift. It’s just rude. But then perhaps I could have done a better job when I was covering earlier in the day myself.

I was so tired but I kept working. Well you have to, right? It didn’t feel like I was going slower. Time felt like it was though. I was getting angry too. I knew I would have to work overtime and I decided to text my boss to let her know while at the same time asking if I’d get paid for the overtime. I don’t usually, which really shits me. It happened a lot when I first started. I always wrote it down when I signed out but I don’t think they actually read that when doing the pay.

The text I sent proves how tired I was. I’m not usually so blunt, especially in my defence. But why shouldn’t I get paid for the work I do? Let’s be realistic. It’s cleaning and sometimes it takes more time and effort. It would at least make it a bit fairer. That said I still hate my job and myself.

I think it’ll take me a little while to get back into the routine of work. Sometimes I can do the job on time or, better yet, in even less time. When those blissful days happen I don’t feel bad about leaving early because I have worked overtime often enough to make up the difference.

I had to write this now in case I feel more forgiving in the morning. I’ve had a shower and something to eat and already it doesn’t feel like such a big deal. Plus I finally got a reply to my text about overtime. My boss said yes. We’ll see though.