Nowhere to Hide.
Yesterday I finished up the logging job. And was quite excited to learn that I made more than I thought (a whopping $3 more an hour... which put me at $13 an hour. A rate, it should be noted, I couldn't survive on in LA. Not that I didn't try. And not that I wasn't grateful for the extra cash. I needed it for my gas tank). It was a strange day, however. Where Carla had made me an insider all week in a world where loggers aren't quite there... which was quite nice of her. And really did make a difference, Friday wasn't so much like that because the writers-- the ones on the show-- were treated to lunch by the producers. On the conference table in the bullpen.
While I was there, we ate lunch at least three or four times on that conference table. When the delivery guy got there? The hierarchy was established. Which is an interesting thing to witness. Food being brought in. Everyone who's left in the bullpen smelling it, working, but still not entitled to it. So you kind of have to leave. Or at least you should. Otherwise it just seems to be an insider-outsider lesson. Which on Drew Carey was a constant as well. There were the writers and then there was the production office. I'm sure it's that way on many shows. And in many jobs and situations in life. Of course, you could always ask if you can have some of what's left once they're done. The people above you. Which just re-establishes your place as being not where they are. And frankly, feels not so good. Luckily, I don't eat pizza. And I was just visiting, so it didn't really affect me like it would the people who are there all the time. I just forgot about the whole office lunch thing-- since it's been so long since I've been in an office of more than three people.
When I was a writer on Drew, we got lunch bought for us as well. Not just bought, but also brought in for us-- and the same thing applied when I was a writers' assistant on the show-- since we might have to be called into the writers' room at anytime and didn't have time to leave. Everyone else had to foot the bill for their own food. Yes, even the p.a.'s. I felt bad about it. Free food is key when you're making no money. But you only get perks when you're making money. That's why the rich get rich and the poor get poorer. And when the food was catered? The writers (and producers) were first in line. Followed by writers assistants. And only once the writers and writers assistants had gotten all they wanted was the rest of the bullpen aka production office allowed to dive in. I always hated that.
Still, yesterday was a good day, and it was a good thing for my resume and my ego and my education. And I was happy to finish up early and still have time to go to yoga. Where. I ran into a girl I've known through a friend. And then this is what she said to me, "Hi! How are you? So are you working?" All in one breath. It should be noted that I haven't seen this girl in probably three years. And I was working then. Just like I am now. The difference has always been just what I'm working on. Even if it was working on getting a job or just having a job I don't want or one that didn't pay enough, or writing a screenplay, I always have been working. Still, I do know this is sore spot for me. INCREDIBLY SORE. So I'm sensitive that way. And if I wasn't, I probably would have thought of something clever to say to turn it around.
There's this odd thing where people think writers aren't working when they write every day. But they are. Writing is a lot of work. Great work. But a lot of work. And it doesn't always pay. It doesn't mean we are free and hanging out and doing nothing. Well, sometimes doing nothing but trying hard to do something. Put something on the page. Even if it sucks.
Still. Who asks that? That's right along with "are you dating anyone?" when you're single and don't want to be. And haven't dated in forever. Or alternately, I could imagine, for people who are dating but not yet engaged, "Are you engaged yet?" And then for people that are married, "So when are you going to have kids?" It's intrusive and assumptive and... in my opinion... just wrong. Because it puts people on the spot. It assumes what you think they should be doing. It gives an expectation. And it makes people uncomfortable. Because it's so direct. It's so loaded. Well, at least for some people. And besides, if people have good news to share, they're usually not shy about it. It's like, let them tell you.
Sure, there is the hope people are coming from a sweet, pure place. A place where they want to hear that you're incredibly happy and the world is fulfilling your every wish, your every expectation. But. Still. For God's sakes. Whatever happened to "How are you?" or "What are you up to?" or "I'm so happy to see you"? Argh.
Then, tonight. I was pouring a glass of wine. I worked out today. I edited parts of the book today. I did a number of things. I wanted a glass of wine. I'm living in a place where they don't pick up mail from mailboxes on Saturday. Even if you can find them. Mailboxes, who knew I'd miss them? So I need wine. But you know what my mom said? "When you're pregnant, you can't drink wine." I just looked at her and said, "Really. Well, that was a shitty thing to say." And I walked away. Who says that to a 38 year-old woman (nearly 39) who wants to be not living with her (that would be 1), married to someone (that would be 2), and pregnant (that would be 3). Actually done with pregnancy and living with her kids and a husband. I mean seriously. What was that about? That was the kind of comment that makes someone WANT to drink. Argh.
I know I could have said something flip like, "Well it's a good thing I'm not pregnant," but that would have taken being in a zen place (which I'm not). And those are the things you think about after the fact. Because when someone's pushing your buttons, well you have nowhere to hide.
While I was there, we ate lunch at least three or four times on that conference table. When the delivery guy got there? The hierarchy was established. Which is an interesting thing to witness. Food being brought in. Everyone who's left in the bullpen smelling it, working, but still not entitled to it. So you kind of have to leave. Or at least you should. Otherwise it just seems to be an insider-outsider lesson. Which on Drew Carey was a constant as well. There were the writers and then there was the production office. I'm sure it's that way on many shows. And in many jobs and situations in life. Of course, you could always ask if you can have some of what's left once they're done. The people above you. Which just re-establishes your place as being not where they are. And frankly, feels not so good. Luckily, I don't eat pizza. And I was just visiting, so it didn't really affect me like it would the people who are there all the time. I just forgot about the whole office lunch thing-- since it's been so long since I've been in an office of more than three people.
When I was a writer on Drew, we got lunch bought for us as well. Not just bought, but also brought in for us-- and the same thing applied when I was a writers' assistant on the show-- since we might have to be called into the writers' room at anytime and didn't have time to leave. Everyone else had to foot the bill for their own food. Yes, even the p.a.'s. I felt bad about it. Free food is key when you're making no money. But you only get perks when you're making money. That's why the rich get rich and the poor get poorer. And when the food was catered? The writers (and producers) were first in line. Followed by writers assistants. And only once the writers and writers assistants had gotten all they wanted was the rest of the bullpen aka production office allowed to dive in. I always hated that.
Still, yesterday was a good day, and it was a good thing for my resume and my ego and my education. And I was happy to finish up early and still have time to go to yoga. Where. I ran into a girl I've known through a friend. And then this is what she said to me, "Hi! How are you? So are you working?" All in one breath. It should be noted that I haven't seen this girl in probably three years. And I was working then. Just like I am now. The difference has always been just what I'm working on. Even if it was working on getting a job or just having a job I don't want or one that didn't pay enough, or writing a screenplay, I always have been working. Still, I do know this is sore spot for me. INCREDIBLY SORE. So I'm sensitive that way. And if I wasn't, I probably would have thought of something clever to say to turn it around.
There's this odd thing where people think writers aren't working when they write every day. But they are. Writing is a lot of work. Great work. But a lot of work. And it doesn't always pay. It doesn't mean we are free and hanging out and doing nothing. Well, sometimes doing nothing but trying hard to do something. Put something on the page. Even if it sucks.
Still. Who asks that? That's right along with "are you dating anyone?" when you're single and don't want to be. And haven't dated in forever. Or alternately, I could imagine, for people who are dating but not yet engaged, "Are you engaged yet?" And then for people that are married, "So when are you going to have kids?" It's intrusive and assumptive and... in my opinion... just wrong. Because it puts people on the spot. It assumes what you think they should be doing. It gives an expectation. And it makes people uncomfortable. Because it's so direct. It's so loaded. Well, at least for some people. And besides, if people have good news to share, they're usually not shy about it. It's like, let them tell you.
Sure, there is the hope people are coming from a sweet, pure place. A place where they want to hear that you're incredibly happy and the world is fulfilling your every wish, your every expectation. But. Still. For God's sakes. Whatever happened to "How are you?" or "What are you up to?" or "I'm so happy to see you"? Argh.
Then, tonight. I was pouring a glass of wine. I worked out today. I edited parts of the book today. I did a number of things. I wanted a glass of wine. I'm living in a place where they don't pick up mail from mailboxes on Saturday. Even if you can find them. Mailboxes, who knew I'd miss them? So I need wine. But you know what my mom said? "When you're pregnant, you can't drink wine." I just looked at her and said, "Really. Well, that was a shitty thing to say." And I walked away. Who says that to a 38 year-old woman (nearly 39) who wants to be not living with her (that would be 1), married to someone (that would be 2), and pregnant (that would be 3). Actually done with pregnancy and living with her kids and a husband. I mean seriously. What was that about? That was the kind of comment that makes someone WANT to drink. Argh.
I know I could have said something flip like, "Well it's a good thing I'm not pregnant," but that would have taken being in a zen place (which I'm not). And those are the things you think about after the fact. Because when someone's pushing your buttons, well you have nowhere to hide.
posted by jodypwrites | 5:53 PM
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