NEEDLING

I have to write the critic of a film for my screenwriting class. Tomorrow morning, I’m getting up early again, and driving to Taylor to go take pictures of the house I’m attempting to buy. My insurance man needs these pictures so that I can get a good deal on home insurance. Every single hour of time off I’ve had in the last couple of weeks, I’ve spent it there, it seems. It’s like I’m trying so hard not to be too excited because what if the loan doesn’t go through? What if my car breaks down? What if anything happens and that at the last second, I won’t be able to close on the house? So I cannot get excited about it, I just cannot, I have to keep thinking that it can still all fall down the pipes so that if it does, I’ll be upset but I’ll be able to get over it faster. I have to read ten to twenty pages of four student screenplays by next week, and comment upon them. My fellow students from the class I’m taking. Somehow I’ve got to find the time for that as well. (pause) Listening to Philip Glass. Solo Piano. Watched a movie tonight, a movie I started watching with no expectations. I pretty much knew it was going to be a good movie, technically speaking, and acting-wise, but other than that, really … nothing, I figured it would be yet another big Hollywood over-the-top drama. I was blown away by the lead performance. And I won’t let on to which movie it was, because I need to sit on it a bit, lay my head down on my pillow, and let the night take its toll. For the moment, I’ll content myself with Philip Glass. Maybe I’ll go buy the book and re-read it … just for laughs, then watch the movie again … then write the darn two-pager … or maybe I’ll go pick a totally different movie.