Monday, 10 October 2011

The weekend part #2: Saturday morning

THE ART OF ARIVING AN HOUR EARLY.... As oppose to the art of always arriving a minute too late. 

Funny, how... Not even deep down - quite plainly, actually- I am a babe in the woods in the real world. People must literally take care of me. They must make sure I eat and drink, I get transportation, I am not exposed to harassment of any sort, even if it's just people standing close. Alright, this state is not acute, I don't freak out or anything, but I do get tiresomely distracted and I do feel unhappy. I would love to be able to rely on someone, an assistant if you will, to actually do all the "reality heavy lifting" in my stead - but then again I don't rely on anyone but the General and he thinks I’m just fishing. People are faulty. So what then? A robot, haha?? No, I don't trust robots either. I trust this little 
pad just so as to lean onto my brain, not support it. Look at what it’s doing to my text arrangement?

But there's a funny thing about me when it comes to work. Okay, firstly I should relax a little bit. The girl who ought to take a better care of me this weekend is constantly upset, even more so tonight when she got drunk and probably had yet another fight with her boyfriend. She is the type to think they know exactly what they want and when the rest of the world can’t keep up, she completely loses it. Oh my, how familiar that sounds! Even the tone of his voice when the boyfriend guy talks to her is enough to unsettle her. Sure, understood, nobody likes to feel underappretiated, but things 
do happen, cars do break down, trains do arrive late, prices do rise and batteries run out, even the spare ones. 
Which sucks hard, when you're in the middle of an unique event... But breathe. So much of this shit can be 
organized beforehand. Yes, it takes ten minutes to walk to the station, twenty to ride a bus to catch a train
 and then two hours with the fast train to arrive to the next point in the plan. But it's Saturday at six am, I
 have never walked to the bus stop and can get lots just long enough to arrive five seconds wrong, and the
 train ride is long - any amount of construction could be going on. Yesterday it took us four hours to 
navigate through city traffic rush hour. It would have been faster to walk.
So I am an hour early almost everywhere and writing these endless inner monologues in waiting mode - or would be, if things didn't go wrong. Ergo, I am on time. I could have even taken the early regular train to have enough time to stop midway, run to kiss the General,  run back and hop on the fast train, but what if the regular runs just a little bit behind? 
Anyhoo. I loaded the iPad full of episodes of Wallander ( and New Girl, in case it turns out to be too depressing ) and sat down with a cup of orange juice, resting tranquil in between plan stops. Luckily I have both - Kill Bill AND Enya on my playlist. As fun as adrenaline is, there are almost twenty hours of shooting before me and an unpredictable 
tomorrow. Pacing oneself is rather a wise approach.