That Nasty Cocktail of Procrastination and Perfectionism

The mental patient is positively drunk with it and a self-loathing chaser.  When she’s like this, she’s in her own little cloud of self-inflicted torment.

It is hilarious to behold.

But my real point is this: yeah, I like my space, I like my downtime, but there’s only so much curtain-climbing and other-cat-harassing I can do before I start wishing for the digits that would enable me to call the ASPCA. 

Here’s the deal: the mental patient sent a query letter to a producer about one of her scripts.  He said, (I’m paraphrasing.) yes, please send it.

Anyone not a mental patient would be clear on what the drill is here.  Print, envelope, address, postage, done.  Right?

Oh, our sensitive mental patient, for her nothing can be so simple, not so hard on the heels of a recent rebuff from another producer.  Let’s call him, “The guy who made tonight a living hell who is probably just some jackass calling himself a producer because anyone can call themselves a producer. ” 

Or let’s just call him “this douche” for short.

The mental patient is hell-bent on addressing the potential concerns raised by this douche before sending the script out to someone new.

She doesn’t know who this douche is, but suddenly the script that was A-OK to send to this douche now must be contextualized.  The mental patient would like to clarify areas that confused this douche before sending it to subsequent douches–sorry–producers. 

The mental patient fully admits the confusion is not her fault but instead a result of this douche’s reading comprehension skills, but the mental patient is Catholic, so when there is any question about whose the blame is, she takes it.  Because of course she secretly loves it. 

Guilt.  She’s soaking in it.

Actually, her idea is pretty cute, but I’m not sure it’s necessary, she’s not sure it’s necessary, but, being the mental patient, given this kind of uncertainty, she will choose the harder path for herself, just to be on the safe side.

It must be lonely there up on your cross, mental patient.

Add a comment November 14, 2009

A Busy Mental Patient is a Boring Mental Patient

The mental patient’s on a deadline.  Well, the mental patient’s always on a deadline but today she actually started taking steps towards meeting the most urgent one.  Say it with me, “That’s n-o fun.”

Often her flexible work schedule allows her to embarrass herself and anyone in her vicinity by fawning all over me, my comrade in the tabby mafia, and the big tuxedo cat who’s hell bent on letting me know who’s the alpha cat.  Note to tuxedo: only one of us hasn’t been neutered yet.  You might want to slow your roll.

Not only did she remember she has a work deadline, but today she got the crazy idea she might write a novel over the course of the next 18 days.  Check out the source of this madness at http://www.nanowrimo.org/.  Everyone else involved with this has two weeks on her. 

When you’re dealing with someone who thinks she can write a cohesive narrative of 50,000 words in 18 days, you’re dealing with a mental patient.

Add a comment November 13, 2009