#practically a journal entry

great conversation with sister, guilt about avoiding mother for the second day after an accidental facetime i quickly exited - i can talk to her tomorrow maybe, or the next day. just not when im wading kneedeep in ten year old (time passed, not age-of) trauma and trying to fight those dragons, AND on the brink of an interview with a producer for a new project. my cup isn’t empty but it certainly doesnt have enough to entertain her bloodsuck.

absent from my collaborative fairy godmom, who is the one hiring me as an editor for her book - its so hard knowing i shouldnt cant mustnt namedrop or specify particulars when thats all i wanna do, but i need to work on my discretion, discretion, discretion - instead of handing out party favors, making confetti of my secrets and other people’s secrets and also sensitive info -

asked my sister today isn’t it crazy 1. lawyers are people you can tell the actual total ((shameful)) truth to? and 2. that they can’t tell anyone??? how do they go home from work and not disclose divulge spillall? tell you how - discretion, discretion, discretion.

1. finish tidying up kitchen and bathroom

2. find letters and address the envelopes, stamp ‘em

3. staple the final 6 

4. read the script tonight

5. clear off the hundred tabs on phone

6. clear off the hundred tabs on computer

7. tidy the goddamn desktop

8. delete like 1k photos from phone so that it is able to function again

flipping between feeling okay and laughing a lot, and like I’m absolutely bottoming out.

I think a big issue (other than the obvious) is that whenever anything happens I go “this is the rest of your life.” Like I drink too much a couple nights in a row? And immediately go, oh god, here we go. I tipped over the edge, this is the rest of my life. Or when I have a bad night and can’t fathom feeling better and believe this is my life sentence, this pain will be for the rest of my life. Conversely! when I get a gig and that giddy “i’ve made it! i’ve finally made it! this is the rest of my life!” feeling rises up in me and I think I have arrived (which is... hysterical. arrived where. arrived in a duplex in a sinking city with no red carpets to speak of. where have we arrived.). Laughing now bc it is so ridiculous and I do it ALL THE TIME.