You never forget your first time.
I'm talking about directing. What did you think I was talking about? This is a respectable blog. Well, most of the time at least.
Strangely though those two firsts have some commonalities:
1. It's hella scary before you do it.
2. At first you're all insecure and timid.
3. Once you have a basic grasp of how it works though you begin to notice how much fun it is.
4. And as soon as you've done it once you'll want to do it again and again and again.
While one has happened for me quite a while ago the other experience has been a more recent one. Last Saturday I had a ten hour directing workshop scheduled at film school. I was wary, at best, of spending ten hours on my feet when I currently get exhausted by about two hours of running errands. I also had no idea whether the teacher was going to be any kind of good or all kinds of bad. But I packed my energy rations (coffee, water and nuts, never leave the house without nuts, and some chocolate) and an extra dose of Ritalin in case my Concerta wore off to fast. I printed out the scene I was going to work on and hopped on a curiously empty Saturday bus on a lovely spring day.
Boy was I wrong to be apprehensive! The teacher turned out to be fantastic, running us trough the basics of directing, giving immensely helpful feedback, and he even has a sense of humour (sadly, that's not always a given). Otherwise he pushed us into the deep end - the best thing he could do.
About two hours after arriving I was already in the middle of DP-ing for one of my colleagues, sketching storyboards on a whiteboard and discussing the benefits of purposely jumping over the axis. Then, before lunch break, I set the lighting for another colleague's scene and watched from the side as they took their first tries at directing.
The differences in style are completely fascinating. Everyone has a different way of easing into the job, of talking to the actors, the crew. I was learning a lot just by watching. Suddenly it was my turn. I jumped right in, assembled my crew, briefed the actors, and there I was, doing a first read-through already, then setting up the scene, blocking, sketching floor plans, figuring out the best camera angles with my DP. Shooting. Tweaking. Shooting another take. Working with the actors. Giving my DP the chance to get a focus change just right considering the limited amount of time we had for our practice shoots. Shooting another angle. Another take. Saying "Action" (although I prefer the more friendly "Aaaand go") and "Cut". Thank you, you were wonderful. Great camerawork. Everyone take a break. I got great feedback from the teacher, the actors, the crew.
And all of it - ALL OF IT! - felt so fucking right. Much like, fish... meet water.
Felt like I was meant to do this. Never supposed to do anything else. Like every other job I'd ever had was just a youthful indiscretion before getting hitched to this wonderful thing called directing. I fell in love, fast and hard.
I suppose this isn't surprising. Because me and directing, we were set up ages ago. After all, I grew up watching my father direct. He started out as a theatre actor, then became an editor at the Austrian Broadcasting company. He started directing for TV even before I was born. I suspect he did some work on documentaries early on but I mostly watched him direct television broadcasts of operas, concerts, theater productions, ballets etc., both recordings and live broadcasts. My mother was his assistant director a lot of the time then became a director herself. When I was older I even worked with them as a floor manager.
Sure, it's a bit weird working with your parents (though it didn't even take me that long to hammer it into their heads that it was definitely not okay to call me by my embarrassing childhood nickname on set) but I learned so much from listening to my dad's voice transmitting through my headset. The way he maneuvered the giant and intricate system of cameramen/women, sound mixers, lighting technicians, cable pullers etc. through live broadcasts has given me a certain instinct for directing. He was always respectful, never without a sense of humor, knew that everyone on set was indispensable and took care to treat them as such.
He knew how to talk to people, knew when to be strict, when to be diplomatic. Ironically, his communication sucked big time in familial settings but while working he knew what he was doing. He felt safe, I assume, like he had a spot in the world that fit him just right. I'm lucky to have seen him work, and while I wasn't aware of it at the moment, soaking up all that I could learn from him.
I was way to scared during my first directing stint last Saturday but I think if I had been viewing myself from the outside instead of, well, being wide-eyed and in the moment, I would've been able to spot a lot of my dad's directing style in my work. I choose to believe that had he seen me in that moment (and maybe he has, I'm agnostic after all) he would've been proud of his director daughter. I'm finally proud of myself as well.
Here's to my dad who unwittingly taught me a lot while I unwittingly learned from him. You would've loved seeing me do this, dad, I just know :)
I love you.
Showing posts with label good moments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label good moments. Show all posts
Objects in the rear view mirror....
2011.
2 0 1 1.
Asshole. Friend.
Fucked me up and built me up.
I honestly don't know what to think about this year. Maybe it's time for a pro/con list?
...
OK, I tried making a list, but apparently my life is not list-able. Instead I got this:
I got fired. From a job that could've been done by Grawp the giant.
But getting fired gave me the impetus to finally start being creative full-time.
I started running regularly and felt great about it... but my knee got fucked up and I had to stop doing sports altogether. Still can't run :(
I finally got diagnosed with ADHD and realised that a lot in my life was not my fault. But now instead of feeling crappy because I never managed to get anything done I felt crappy because of all the time I had lost.
I also learned that there are meds that could help me. But some of the meds fucked me up BAD. Like Charlie! But Charlie the elephant pales in comparison to throwing up into a trashcan at Praterstern underground station. Disgusting and humiliating - brought to you by Strattera (tm). Back to Ritalin then. I'm still not sure they're the right ones. However, when they do work, it's magical. I mean, shit is getting done! And instead of being "a person with tons of creative potential" I turn into a proper "creative person".
I finally had the courage to submit a short story to two literary competitions. I didn't get shortlisted for either one though.
I also submitted my first film treatment ever. This time I only barely missed the shortlist and ended up joining the team in a different capacity anyway.
I lost some friends. Because, apparently, 2011 was the year of people being pissed at me but not letting me know this. (Not a mindreader, I am.) To this day I still don't know the reason for one of those people's anger at me.
I made some new friends though.
And re-established contact with some out-of-touch old ones.
I wrote more than I ever did before. I didn't write nearly enough to satisfy me. But I started work on my first film.
I started film school.
I still don't have a paying job. But I feel I'm getting to a point where I could handle one.
My mother is nice to me again. Unfortunately, I think it is because now that I have a diagnosis she thinks I'm damaged goods and that I can't be held responsible for my own actions - and not because she sees her own faults in last year's ordeal. Oh, the irony!
I LEARNED TO SAY 'NO'!
We went to New York.
I FINALLY WENT TO NEW YORK!
I saw Beirut and Tori Amos and Amanda Palmer live.
I gave Neil Gaiman my short stories and didn't get any feedback.
A friend of minegave basically forced Lee Sheldon to read my script and short stories and I got the best, most useful feedback ever.
I don't want to jinx it but so far NO ONE DIED THIS YEAR!
I realised what exactly it is that I'm exceptionally good at.
I finished therapy.
But most of all I fulfilled the one New Year's resolution I had: I scared the shit out of being scared.
Looking up/back at this I'm drawing the conclusion that 2011 was quite an okay year, all things considered. Definitely better than 2010. And hopefully 2012 will be even better.
What I wish for besides the basic health-no-one-dying stuff:
- Getting the meds thing worked out
- Making a good movie and getting it seen
- Lots of love and great music and good friends and some travelling
edited because I saw this on twitter and found it incredibly wonderful:
2 0 1 1.
Asshole. Friend.
Fucked me up and built me up.
I honestly don't know what to think about this year. Maybe it's time for a pro/con list?
...
OK, I tried making a list, but apparently my life is not list-able. Instead I got this:
I got fired. From a job that could've been done by Grawp the giant.
But getting fired gave me the impetus to finally start being creative full-time.
I started running regularly and felt great about it... but my knee got fucked up and I had to stop doing sports altogether. Still can't run :(
I finally got diagnosed with ADHD and realised that a lot in my life was not my fault. But now instead of feeling crappy because I never managed to get anything done I felt crappy because of all the time I had lost.
I also learned that there are meds that could help me. But some of the meds fucked me up BAD. Like Charlie! But Charlie the elephant pales in comparison to throwing up into a trashcan at Praterstern underground station. Disgusting and humiliating - brought to you by Strattera (tm). Back to Ritalin then. I'm still not sure they're the right ones. However, when they do work, it's magical. I mean, shit is getting done! And instead of being "a person with tons of creative potential" I turn into a proper "creative person".
I finally had the courage to submit a short story to two literary competitions. I didn't get shortlisted for either one though.
I also submitted my first film treatment ever. This time I only barely missed the shortlist and ended up joining the team in a different capacity anyway.
I lost some friends. Because, apparently, 2011 was the year of people being pissed at me but not letting me know this. (Not a mindreader, I am.) To this day I still don't know the reason for one of those people's anger at me.
I made some new friends though.
And re-established contact with some out-of-touch old ones.
I wrote more than I ever did before. I didn't write nearly enough to satisfy me. But I started work on my first film.
I started film school.
I still don't have a paying job. But I feel I'm getting to a point where I could handle one.
My mother is nice to me again. Unfortunately, I think it is because now that I have a diagnosis she thinks I'm damaged goods and that I can't be held responsible for my own actions - and not because she sees her own faults in last year's ordeal. Oh, the irony!
I LEARNED TO SAY 'NO'!
We went to New York.
I FINALLY WENT TO NEW YORK!
I saw Beirut and Tori Amos and Amanda Palmer live.
I gave Neil Gaiman my short stories and didn't get any feedback.
A friend of mine
I don't want to jinx it but so far NO ONE DIED THIS YEAR!
I realised what exactly it is that I'm exceptionally good at.
I finished therapy.
But most of all I fulfilled the one New Year's resolution I had: I scared the shit out of being scared.
Looking up/back at this I'm drawing the conclusion that 2011 was quite an okay year, all things considered. Definitely better than 2010. And hopefully 2012 will be even better.
What I wish for besides the basic health-no-one-dying stuff:
- Getting the meds thing worked out
- Making a good movie and getting it seen
- Lots of love and great music and good friends and some travelling
edited because I saw this on twitter and found it incredibly wonderful:
Happy Christmas your arse
It paid off whining about missing my dad the other day. Apparently, that got it out there and made room for christmas spirit inside me. Yesterday I made the biggest batch of Vanillekipferl I've ever made (still almost too precious to share), I also made egg nog, I made an apple pie that I froze because the apples were about to go, I have a batch of rum ball dough resting in my fridge that I'm planning on rolling tonight or tomorrow. It helped that one of my best friends in the world is in Vienna at the moment and kept me company while I was baking yesterday. We talked and laughed and got tipsy on warm egg nog and I had an overall awesome time. I love having her here, seeing her at my birthday and on Christmas. She's just one of those rare people that really get me. She's known me forever and she knows how I tick. She knows all my crazies and loves me anyway. And those people are few and far between. I can barely think of a handful even.
So I had a lovely time yesterday. And this morning I organized some Christmas music and am now listening to Fairytale of New York, which is inarguably one of the most wonderful Christmas songs of all time.
I'll have to go to work this afternoon, but theoretically this is my last shift til way after Christmas. And tomorrow we'll go buy our turkey and brine it and I'll get into figuring out how all the pots will share the oven on Christmas eve. And then it's cocktails for my birthday on the 23rd and Christmas for the lost kids (I have a couple of friends who are "familiarly" stranded and always welcome in our place) on the 24th.
Gosh I love Christmas, it's almost disgusting ;) Even the stress part of it is okay stress, because it's fucking Christmas.
move along home, common cold
I've been wanting to blog, but I've been sick as a dog for about a week now. I've now spent 6 days watching movies I've long wanted to see, and then movies I didn't particularly want to see, and now I've gone over to watching old Ally McBeal episodes. I am going stir crazy! There is so much to do, so much that has to get done. But let's back up a bit.
Finn's employers invited their employees for a luxurious spa weekend as this year's christmas present - spouses welcome to my delight. We hastily asked Finn's mum to take in our bunnies and fortunately she had time so off we went. I was a bit nervous beforehand about meeting her bosses and coworkers, given all my social insecurities... but it all turned out really well. I was pretty much instantaneously relaxed when we arrived there and all the pampering we received helped further that even more. We were wined and dined on Friday evening, drinking, talking and laughing until late at night. We spent a lovely day swimming and at the spa on Saturday followed by another 4-course-dinner and wine. On Sunday morning I even went for a swim and a steam in the sauna before breakfast. Yes, I know, totally not me, but I woke up so refreshed at 8 a.m. I thought "What else should I do until breakfast?" (the wife was still sleepy ;)
Unfortunately we were so relaxed that we both fell ill. Finn before me and not as badly; it seems that weathering it while going to work was the right choice. I put myself to bed like a good girl and that's pretty much where I've been since. I thought I was going to be okay going to IKEA on Friday since there basically was no other possible day to do that on, and I probably would have if the weather hadn't been so crappy. We had to shovel our car out of the snow twice! almost didn't make it out of the parking spot... and on Saturday I went to work for three hours. So that set me back about half a week; since than I've been in bed again. I've boiled jujubes (chinese dates) and drank the liquid (the vilest thing I ever drank) which is supposed to help, I've drank tons of fresh orange-grapefruit juice, I've tried taking Aspirin C, Aspirin Complex, Neocitran, I've used Wick Vapo Rub and eaten a ridiculous amount of satsumas, I'm drinking litres of hot water with lemon juice, honey and ginger and eating broth.
I AM NOT GETTING BETTER.
not really. I should be fine by now but I'm not.
It's not only that I've had colleagues pick up my shifts at the Creperie (I've meant to blog about that) - (also I'm missing my tap class today which sucks) - but also that I should be packing up boxes for our move. Yeah, that's another news I have. After all the crazy with my mother we hit the accelerator on our search for a new apartment and found one quite promptly. We got the keys on December 1st and are currently in the process of moving small things from this flat, new furniture (hence the trip to IKEA). So far I haven't been able to pull my weight so it's all resting on Finn who is working shitloads at work already and now has to deal with everything to do with the flat as well. I hope I can go over there to at least get some things done tomorrow before my shift at the Creperie. On Wednesday we have friends coming from Salisbury so we have Thursday and Friday for more packing before the movers come on Saturday. So yeah...
I NEED TO GET BETTER! *sigh*
I'm trying not to fight it, to accept it, to believe that I'll be okay soon, but it just doesn't feel like it right now :(
So please, send me some healthy energy if you have some to spare. Thankyouverymuch.
Finn's employers invited their employees for a luxurious spa weekend as this year's christmas present - spouses welcome to my delight. We hastily asked Finn's mum to take in our bunnies and fortunately she had time so off we went. I was a bit nervous beforehand about meeting her bosses and coworkers, given all my social insecurities... but it all turned out really well. I was pretty much instantaneously relaxed when we arrived there and all the pampering we received helped further that even more. We were wined and dined on Friday evening, drinking, talking and laughing until late at night. We spent a lovely day swimming and at the spa on Saturday followed by another 4-course-dinner and wine. On Sunday morning I even went for a swim and a steam in the sauna before breakfast. Yes, I know, totally not me, but I woke up so refreshed at 8 a.m. I thought "What else should I do until breakfast?" (the wife was still sleepy ;)
Unfortunately we were so relaxed that we both fell ill. Finn before me and not as badly; it seems that weathering it while going to work was the right choice. I put myself to bed like a good girl and that's pretty much where I've been since. I thought I was going to be okay going to IKEA on Friday since there basically was no other possible day to do that on, and I probably would have if the weather hadn't been so crappy. We had to shovel our car out of the snow twice! almost didn't make it out of the parking spot... and on Saturday I went to work for three hours. So that set me back about half a week; since than I've been in bed again. I've boiled jujubes (chinese dates) and drank the liquid (the vilest thing I ever drank) which is supposed to help, I've drank tons of fresh orange-grapefruit juice, I've tried taking Aspirin C, Aspirin Complex, Neocitran, I've used Wick Vapo Rub and eaten a ridiculous amount of satsumas, I'm drinking litres of hot water with lemon juice, honey and ginger and eating broth.
I AM NOT GETTING BETTER.
not really. I should be fine by now but I'm not.
It's not only that I've had colleagues pick up my shifts at the Creperie (I've meant to blog about that) - (also I'm missing my tap class today which sucks) - but also that I should be packing up boxes for our move. Yeah, that's another news I have. After all the crazy with my mother we hit the accelerator on our search for a new apartment and found one quite promptly. We got the keys on December 1st and are currently in the process of moving small things from this flat, new furniture (hence the trip to IKEA). So far I haven't been able to pull my weight so it's all resting on Finn who is working shitloads at work already and now has to deal with everything to do with the flat as well. I hope I can go over there to at least get some things done tomorrow before my shift at the Creperie. On Wednesday we have friends coming from Salisbury so we have Thursday and Friday for more packing before the movers come on Saturday. So yeah...
I NEED TO GET BETTER! *sigh*
I'm trying not to fight it, to accept it, to believe that I'll be okay soon, but it just doesn't feel like it right now :(
So please, send me some healthy energy if you have some to spare. Thankyouverymuch.
self-doubt & regrets - 2010 edition
I am beginning to feel better. To be honest, I was having a hard time believing this day would ever come. I've been less depressed lately and have figured out a way to put myself to sleep (rescue drops work wonders on me). Also this deep exhaustion seizes control of me a lot less than it used to only a couple of weeks ago. Basically it's a whole new me. I'm nowhere near my old self but then that crazy lady isn't exactly who I should be anyway. I'm beginning to see how other people (used to) perceive me. Apparently a lot of people see me as this super fast, hyper active, hyper performing, constantly on-the-move person. A stark contrast to my self-perception: underachieving mess.
Unfortunately the minus of exhaustion coupled with that lovely opinion I have of myself leads to the return of THE THINKING (= certain doom). It takes place mostly late-night. However, thanks to my friends the rescue drops I now do this half-asleep or in my dreams instead of wide awake. That's some progress, I say.
Sooooo... I've been thinking. About the things in my life that I could've done differently which, if you spell it out, basically means: self doubt and regrets chasing each other in a nice little circle... ad infinitum. What'cha call that? That's right: "Not healthy". But I've accepted it as part of my old self as well as part of my recovery - because I am getting better at this, learning to view things in a positive light et cetera et cetera, I know it's nauseatingly esoteric and I apologise in retrospect and advance.
Since I hit 22 or so I've had an even harder time accepting that my choices have kept me here in crummy Austria while others have been out conquering the world, as I see it. The worst are ex-classmates from school that have gone to New York/L.A./London/pickyourfuckingawesomecity, totally absolutely making it there. It's especially bad when they were so-called frenemies (though we didn't have that lovely label when I was in school, thank you, Gossip Girl). Then the green monster rears it fucking ugly head. I get jealous, more like envious. Is it dumb? Absofuckinglutely. But I've begun to understand that this isn't my especially bad character that's doing this but that it rings true for other people too. Maybe not for you, if you're lucky. But just think of one of your biggest dreams in life - Got it? Good. Now envision it. And now imagine reading on facebook how someone else is living that dream.... ouch. And would you like some salt with your gashing wound? Btw. yes, I do know that people brush up their lives on facebook, but that doesn't mean it'll sting less.
But since I said I was going to be positive:
So I didn't make my dream to go to New York and Be Someone come true - yet.
So I haven't actually been quite the overachiever I imagined myself to be. (My burnout would probably be a lot messier if I had.)
So I don't exactly know where I'm going or am just figuring it out at the age of 26.
But there are good sides to this, very good sides. If I'd lived my life like I thought I would when I was sixteen, I would have missed out on a shitload of awesomeness too:
Biggest of all is I met my wife! I mean, who gets to meet the love of their lives when their 21? Not many people I've known. I do not have to spend years as a serial monogamist looking for my soulmate because I can check that item off the fucking list. High Five!
I have a somewhat stable living situation, not living out of a tiny box in a shared flat or a garconniere and I usually have some money to spend at the end of the months or even the middle if it goddamn pleases me (at least when we're not both momentarily out of work).
And I've worked a variety of different jobs in completely different fields of work. I've worked as a journalist, a phone marketer, an animator at children's parties, as an usher in a musical theatre, as a floor manager in television, an editing assistant, in a PR position (in fact, the only PR position) in a small company, a social media marketer and I'm sure I forgot something. I've had the chance to test myself, to adapt, to learn new things and if that isn't awesome then I really don't know what is.
Now what I need to really get is that all this doesn't mean that I can't still go to New York or wherever the fuck I please and be someone there. It doesn't preclude that I already am someone, right here.
I'd love to hear some opinions on this, know how others deal with these bouts of self doubt. Or do you not have those moments? Please, tell me you have those moments ;)
Unfortunately the minus of exhaustion coupled with that lovely opinion I have of myself leads to the return of THE THINKING (= certain doom). It takes place mostly late-night. However, thanks to my friends the rescue drops I now do this half-asleep or in my dreams instead of wide awake. That's some progress, I say.
Sooooo... I've been thinking. About the things in my life that I could've done differently which, if you spell it out, basically means: self doubt and regrets chasing each other in a nice little circle... ad infinitum. What'cha call that? That's right: "Not healthy". But I've accepted it as part of my old self as well as part of my recovery - because I am getting better at this, learning to view things in a positive light et cetera et cetera, I know it's nauseatingly esoteric and I apologise in retrospect and advance.
Since I hit 22 or so I've had an even harder time accepting that my choices have kept me here in crummy Austria while others have been out conquering the world, as I see it. The worst are ex-classmates from school that have gone to New York/L.A./London/pickyourfuckingawesomecity, totally absolutely making it there. It's especially bad when they were so-called frenemies (though we didn't have that lovely label when I was in school, thank you, Gossip Girl). Then the green monster rears it fucking ugly head. I get jealous, more like envious. Is it dumb? Absofuckinglutely. But I've begun to understand that this isn't my especially bad character that's doing this but that it rings true for other people too. Maybe not for you, if you're lucky. But just think of one of your biggest dreams in life - Got it? Good. Now envision it. And now imagine reading on facebook how someone else is living that dream.... ouch. And would you like some salt with your gashing wound? Btw. yes, I do know that people brush up their lives on facebook, but that doesn't mean it'll sting less.
But since I said I was going to be positive:
So I didn't make my dream to go to New York and Be Someone come true - yet.
So I haven't actually been quite the overachiever I imagined myself to be. (My burnout would probably be a lot messier if I had.)
So I don't exactly know where I'm going or am just figuring it out at the age of 26.
But there are good sides to this, very good sides. If I'd lived my life like I thought I would when I was sixteen, I would have missed out on a shitload of awesomeness too:
Biggest of all is I met my wife! I mean, who gets to meet the love of their lives when their 21? Not many people I've known. I do not have to spend years as a serial monogamist looking for my soulmate because I can check that item off the fucking list. High Five!
I have a somewhat stable living situation, not living out of a tiny box in a shared flat or a garconniere and I usually have some money to spend at the end of the months or even the middle if it goddamn pleases me (at least when we're not both momentarily out of work).
And I've worked a variety of different jobs in completely different fields of work. I've worked as a journalist, a phone marketer, an animator at children's parties, as an usher in a musical theatre, as a floor manager in television, an editing assistant, in a PR position (in fact, the only PR position) in a small company, a social media marketer and I'm sure I forgot something. I've had the chance to test myself, to adapt, to learn new things and if that isn't awesome then I really don't know what is.
Now what I need to really get is that all this doesn't mean that I can't still go to New York or wherever the fuck I please and be someone there. It doesn't preclude that I already am someone, right here.
I'd love to hear some opinions on this, know how others deal with these bouts of self doubt. Or do you not have those moments? Please, tell me you have those moments ;)
This post could almost be by a non-damaged person
I could give you my "been meaning to blog" speech and all that yadda yadda but I'll leave my where-was-I post for another time. Right now let me just say that we've got a couple of miracles going on here right now.
1. we went out tonight
2. I had fun - pure, undamaged fun with no "oh shit, I just dropped my happy mask" moments
3. we stayed out late
4. and then didn't opt for a taxi but took the public transport/walking option home (there are people in public transport, so usually when it's late we always, infallibly go for taxi
I don't exactly know how it happened, but I really had no waning-strength-moments tonight, I was capable of coherent thoughts AND able to turn them into sentences that could be understood by others. I met a bunch of new people tonight, most of which I quite liked. So in my current way of life that makes me practically a social butterfly ;)
I almost don't care whether tonight I'll finally be able to sleep again. Almost...
Edit: I haven't managed to go to bed yet, be it because I'm scared of the inevitable seeming non-sleep, be it because I just needed to have this moment to myself (Finn is already in bed). It's getting light outside and I'm remembering all those nights I walked home - never really drunk, maybe a little tipsy - into the sunrise, sitting on my windowsill with a cup of tea. In fact, I think that is the best part of staying out late! I miss that. I'd do it a lot more often if it wasn't such a bitca for fucking with my sleep cycle. It's kind of hard to be a functioning part of society when you're nights become your days. But for now I'm okay sitting here with my cup of PG Tips, hearing the birds wake up, listening to a song and getting ready to crawl into bed with my sleeping wife.
Edit: I haven't managed to go to bed yet, be it because I'm scared of the inevitable seeming non-sleep, be it because I just needed to have this moment to myself (Finn is already in bed). It's getting light outside and I'm remembering all those nights I walked home - never really drunk, maybe a little tipsy - into the sunrise, sitting on my windowsill with a cup of tea. In fact, I think that is the best part of staying out late! I miss that. I'd do it a lot more often if it wasn't such a bitca for fucking with my sleep cycle. It's kind of hard to be a functioning part of society when you're nights become your days. But for now I'm okay sitting here with my cup of PG Tips, hearing the birds wake up, listening to a song and getting ready to crawl into bed with my sleeping wife.
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