Plugging away in the swamps of unemployment

I’m procrastinating on a script-writing project right now. Not without just cause.

Creative writing like this requires imagination, focus and the gumption to get things done, well, no matter how many hours of the day it takes to make deadline.

Which is frankly way beyond my capacity.

I’d be lucky if I had enough attention span to—found left-over cookie crumbs stuck to my jumper. Win.

Parnell Sky series, #1

It’s not entirely due to a deficiency of skills that I’m avoiding work. I’ve got skills. Mad skills. And one or two actual skills.

Well one. As CareersNZ points out, one skill is being an influencer. I can influence all humanity in one sentence. It is my will and my command (and strongest possible recommendation) that everybody in the world from now on should do exactly what they were going to do anyway.

So, I’ve got influencer in my toolkit. Unfortunately, I also have in my toolkit a reluctance to do anything that seems like work. That tops the SKILLS IN TOOLKIT list on my CV, followed by indolence, sloth, birth-related brain damage (ie, I’m stupid), trichotillomania, one pair of skinny jeans that haven’t fit since 1998 but that I still wear out to networking events because I’m hip, rickets, Lotus Notes, and lastly, influencer.

But mostly it’s a reluctance to do anything that seems like work that attracts people’s attention.

Which is exactly how I got into this procrastination mess to begin with, and for which I blame Josh Borthwick and Ush de la Croix over at Wolf Productions.

Parnell sky series #2

I met Ush and Josh right after I was “made redundant”. They stopped to listen to me busking my little heart out on Queen Street. Incidentally, it seems I didn’t actually know most of the lyrics to Hey, Jude after all. And my guitar only has two, three strings, tops. You’d be surprised how much you can make for minor technical difficulties with enthusiastic humming.

Anyway, Josh and Ush stayed through the song. They recognized immediately that I didn’t want to do anything that resembled work, which is exactly the kind of person they were looking for.

So, instead of putting coins in my guitar case (cheap bastards), they asked me to join them as a writer for a new webseries they’ve conceived.

Granted, this “writer” title is largely honorary, considering that most of the scripts have been outsourced to a factory in Bangladesh. But when I’m not posed on all-fours so they can put up their legs on me like an ottoman, they’ve also tasked me with writing three webisodes. And if they don’t like my scripts, they transfer me to Bangladesh.

Parnell sky series, #3

It’s a great opportunity, and I thank Wolf Productions for giving me a shot, right when I just so happen to be launching a comedy writing career.  I’m enjoying the collaboration with Josh and Ush, and fellow writer, Andrew Thompson.

But that doesn’t mean I have to do any work.

Not this minute. Not right away. Because Josh and Ush and Andrew are not the boss of me. Jacquie is. And she only just found out that I’m trying to write comedy for a living. Until recently, Jacquie thought I was a nude model at a drawing salon in late 19th century Paris. Which is, I admit, what I’d been leading her to believe all along.

If these people think I can just flick a switch and instantly go from human ottoman to a human ottoman that also writes scripts, they must be kidding themselves. This is a process that’s going to take a couple of days.

In the first place, my back and knees are still sore. And secondly, it’s hard being a creative anything: writer, artist, magician, concentration camp commandant, or even a dentist. If you’re going to do something, you have to do it excellently. And in order to do something excellently, you have to put it off until the last minute, and do something else while you wait.

Especially something like this blog, which doesn’t have to be anywhere near good, in keeping with the caliber of the average visitor.

I’m just saying I need some me time. Time to sort out all my funny ideas, and separate them from the horrible PTSD flashbacks of my childhood, which can be tiresome.

Even if that means doing my homework on a napkin while driving my car over to the next Wolf Productions staff meeting. Hey, that method got me through high school chemistry, coasting on a solid C-.

[[third draft. with edits thanks to Vera Alves, and fixed bad sentence. And apologies. I stink]]

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