Life is so unpredictable. This past month I’d transitioned from an internationally airborn film fest gypsy to a grounded, focused stay-at-home writer. I was seriously digging it, too. Little did I know how short-lived this new era would be…
I never would have guessed. For 3 weeks I had a routine – you know what that is, right – like where you do the same thing at designated times each day? It’s surprisingly fun – who knew? Each morning I’d awaken early, work out, make a fancy (sometimes candle-lit) breakfast complete with carmelized onions for my growing repertoire of unusual egg white omelets. Then I would write for 2-3 hours, go to the gym, wash up, make increasingly more adventuresome home-cooked mid-day meals accompanied by a glass of wine (really getting into cooking – I’m practically wife material – won’t Mum be proud?), watch a movie, conquer a few more hours of work, then meet up with friends for coffee, cheap theater outings (like zombie improv and roaming vampire plays!) movie screenings, etc.
It was pure bliss and I’ve not been that productive and simultaneously social in ages. I completed a feature script, a treatment for another, got well past the halfway point of a major rewrite, wrote 3 short scripts and embarked on a couple of promising collaborative efforts to boot.
It’s been positively exhilarating. It was such a joy to wake up each morning and almost sad to see each day come to an end when I could no longer keep my eyes open. Every single day was so jam-packed with things that made me so happy. Who knew my roaming heart could be fulfilled with such simplicity?
Ha!
Well to quote an unappealing skank who shall remain nameless, “Oops, I did it again.”
My friend Alec pointed out, “it’s like falling in love,” during another fun multi-hour Figaro’s Filmmaker Therapy session that he, partner Steph and I have turned into a semi-regular tradition. He was referring to the giddiness I felt, the butterflies in my stomach, the glow on my face, my inability to calm down, think straight, remember to breathe – the realization that there would be little time for carmelizing onions and mid-afternoon matinees for a while.
I hadn’t been looking for a new project. In fact, I had just turned down an opportunity to direct because it wasn’t the right time. I was truly happy being “just a writer” and working towards a bigger, longer term endeavor (for which Phase I officially kicks off in but an hour.)
But then it happened – like a bolt of lightning. I hardly knew what hit me, I just knew when this new opportunity came knocking at my door, I could not possibly live without her. The past week has been a flurry of trying to juggle my writing schedule (3 major deadlines this month!) with my new love – Dolores – set for production in (yipes!) April and a host of other obligations. But it’s all welcome.
Now we’re inseparable. She’s gotten under my skin and shaken up my world like I never could have imagined. I eat, sleep, dream, breathe her. And here I had thought I’d been so fulfilled.
How naïve of me to think that ongoing domestic bliss could endure. It was fun while it lasted and mighty productive, but there is nothing compared to this feeling – the excitement and passion of a fiery new love.
I know I will carmelize onions again once more. It was nice to feel fulfilled and happy and warm and safe. But how long could it last until it also felt…well, routine?
This is a love letter, Dolores. You’ve turned my world upside down and I thank you for it. How fun to be head over heels, embarking on a new adventure with a brand new playmate.