The Joy of Doing Nothing

I finally managed to tap into my written communication skills long enough to type out another blog, so three cheers for that. And three thumbs way down for being incredibly bored!

Yup, it's one of those days. I am becoming well-acquainted with what seems to be an ongoing post-grad paradox, that whenever you're busy you wish you were free, and whenever you're free you wish you were doing something. Well, my internship boss is out of the country for two weeks. This means I'm doing nothing but watching film festival submissions from my bed for two weeks. Hooray! Watching movies in bed because I have nowhere else to be! I do this shit anyway and now it's kind of a job!

No. No hoorays. Well, okay, it is pretty sweet that I don't have to feel guilty about spending all day in my PJs, and that I can meditatively cook meals in between films instead of gnawing on leftover rice and beans that I hurriedly scooped into an old salsa container because I only allotted myself 5 minutes to make lunch before leaving for my internship. But agh... my brain! My soupy, inactive brain! I am not interacting with any human beings or accomplishing any significant task. I mean, geez, even walking to the post office yesterday made me feel good for a minute. "Hey, look at me go, I'm walking... all by myself!" This, on the other hand, is just... so much sitting. And staring. I guess cats would make better film festival reviewers than I would. Or private investigators.

Now of course, the second I step outside to face the world of responsibilities and obligations I know I'll pine for my bed and begin thinking of all the things I could be using my free time for. I could finish the painting I started last week, or revise my shitty scripts, or start new hopefully-slightly-less-shitty scripts, or look up writing jobs, or run errands, or jog, or join a writing group, or coat myself in a layer of peanut butter and run down Broadway screaming, "Do ye dare look upon me, mortals!" All viable options. At least I'm blogging, which is one of the items usually on that list. Whoo! Gold star.

This is all very temporary. (I tell myself.) I'll be back to going out and driving places and wearing shirts with sleeves soon enough.

I have to say, though, my current pessimistic attitude is largely due to a submission I just finished watching called "Improvising" by Clare Fogerty. I'm sure she won't mind the bump. It was a feature-length film that, as far as I can tell, was completely improvised as a sort of documentary-style narrative about a girl in an LA improv troupe trying to figure out what it is exactly that she's doing with her life. It was one of those movies that doesn't have a specific plot or perfect "arc" or anything, so much as a chronicling of a point in time in someone's life. Seeing as it paralleled pretty well with my own-- the artist out in LA, teaching because that's the only alternative to doing, not sure how to chart whether things are "on track" or not-- it definitely hit home. And the fact that it hit home now, when I'm still at the green age of 22 and the protagonist was probably closer to 25 or 26, was mildly disconcerting. You mean this is only the BEGINNING?

Come on, even the OCTOPUS is getting more exercise than me?!

Of course I know that there's a world of hardship lying ahead. I'm bracing myself for it now, by trying to find as few reasons to be a cynical fuck as possible. But I guess "bracing myself for hardship" is getting off to a bad start.

I just want to feel like I'm moving. Constantly. Capitalism totally got to me, and I very much subscribe to the attitude of "progress" and "growth" and all those things kindergarten teachers pay attention to. Maybe I should start making report cards for myself at the end of each month. Heck, I'll even put a sticker chart on my door and give myself a little smiley face for every time I achieve something. And there will be finger painting and macaroni necklaces at Thanksgiving!

...It seems my idea of progress has regressed to regression. Looks like I made a boo-boo.

Life is slowing down, but it will pick up again soon. It has to. Because I have a very specific order for how things are going to go. I'm going to get a job, and then based on my schedule I'm going to find a writer's group-- who knows, maybe a hiking group, too-- and I'm going to go to writer's groups which will make me a better writer, will help me meet new people, and will give me something to do. And after that it doesn't matter, because the sun will engulf the earth and all but god's chosen ones will transcend the flames of sin. I've made out with a girl before so... kinda like running a red light on your driver's test.