At Least I'm Not A Toilet Person

I didn't write my ten minute play, but did write my review of last night's performance, and it was still a pretty damned good writing day all in all. First email of the day was the glossy I'd been putting a story together for. I sent the copy in last week and they went silent, and I was starting to think I'd blown it, but they wrote to say the editorial is as good as the photo shoot and rounded up my fee and asked me to send in an invoice for a nice amount of money. AND I took a break away from the desk to mop the floors and clean the kitchen. If every work day was like this, I'd be pretty happy. Only way I could have improved it is by writing my ten minute play. Or a short story.

The other day at the TV shoot they were assigning us extras to various tasks for the scene. Some had to wander down the stairs, some play pool, some walk to the toilets, some chat at a table etc. One of the assistant directors asked another if she could borrow a couple of her extras and pointed to someone.

"No way," the AD replied. "They're two of my toilet people."

Funnier for me though was that as the AD wandered looking for tasks for the group I was in, she came across a pay computer terminal with internet access for the pub's customers. She looked at it long and hard, then turned to us and said, "Yeah, right, like someone's going to be in a pub and be sitting at a computer. Pffft."

Thing was, my eyes lit up like I was a kid before a Christmas tree. I was nanoseconds away from putting my hand in the air and saying, "Ooh ooh - me! Me! Pick me to be the one to be sitting at the computer. Pleeeeeease can I be the one who gets paid to blog."

I redirected my half raised hand and scratched my head and said, "Yeah, as if. Pffft."