In my head: “Fuck you, fuck you! FUUUCCCKK YOU! My whole day is a never ending parade of emails from people who think they are my only priority and demands and whines and bills and invoices and problems and crises and metaphorical kicks directly to my genitals. I spend every hour of my day doing things I hate and I can’t do any of the things that I loved that got me into this business and at the end of the day *at least* three people who have far more ego than they have sense are going to turn minor disagreements into the most incredible battles of all time, to the point where they would rather DIE than agree on which frame to end the music and see no problem in costing me several thousand *more* dollars to argue about it for another week instead of just making a damn choice. I constantly feel as if I’m a person with roughly $2,000,000 in obligations, and somewhere around $42.53 to pay for it all.”
Out loud: “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”