Unemployment the Sequel

Today marks day one of my auspicious return to unemployment. After working the last twelve days straight, it's nice to finally have a break. Six hours of relaxing in my pjs, watching Buffy, and eating chocolate in bed. Sounds like heaven, but already I'm bored and feeling discouraged. I've been dutifully checking job listings, updating my resume, and making a list of anyone I've ever known who might know of a job somewhere in the entertainment field (excluding the porn industry, though if it comes to it I think I could whip out a pretty solid adult script that doesn't sacrifice story or production value).

Before Edward, Bill, and Eric, there was Angel...

However I don't know if I have it in me to do this again. Unemployment just sucks the soul out of you. It takes all the joy out of lounging around, doing nothing. Usually this is my favorite thing to do (or not do rather). But the best thing about doing nothing is that you're doing it in place of something you're supposed to be doing instead. If you have nothing better to do, then it gets old fast. Hopefully this break from the work force will allow me to be more creative. I got to work on a lot of scripts last time around, so maybe it will be a good thing. Though I'm not so good with time management if I have no structure in my life.

One of my favorite things, a good Irish pub.

O'Brien's in Santa Monica is a damn good one.

If I have to be unemployed, I'm glad my last job ended with a bang. Between the awesome Irish pub night, stacks of free candy, amazing co-workers, and general satisfaction of doing a job I enjoy, this was a fantastic experience. Our big blowout wrap party was last night. Though it may have seemed like a typical schmooze and booze (I call trademark), a lot more was going on than just drinking absurdly pink cocktails and eating fancy schmancy hors-d'oeuvres. There was a palpable aura of relief in the air after a hectic two weeks of long days, several disgruntled and often unintelligent guests, sprinting towards the finish line. It was bittersweet, finally getting to bond with many people I never got to talk to even though we worked side by side for weeks. Good times were had, good contacts were made, musical sitcoms about a great pumpkin-sized tape ball we named Janice were conceived.

Meet Janice, forged from the tape that kept all the

cables and electrical wires in place so klutzes like me won't trip.

It was a fantastic night on the rooftop of Santa Monica place. But I'm sad to think I may not see some of those people again. It was kind of like the end of camp. Maybe we'll all be back next year, but many of us are looking for something just as awesome, but a little more permanent. So that takes us back to today. And massive amounts of Buffy while I wait for a phone call or e-mail from Lionsgate or NBC that will probably never come. Sigh. But at least we'll always have Santa Monica...

The lovely ladies of the Registration Department.

I'm the one whose face matches her shirt. Victim of Caucasian Glow.