I sit here watching a programme on Cliff Richard wondering about what happened over the past few weeks to follow my goal. After the Pizzaman showing I had to get a bus back to London from Cardiff at 4am in order to go straight to work at 9am in Wimbledon. I felt exhausted but happy that I’d done this crazy schedule. I seem to thrive on challenges. I went home after work and slept for 14 hours straight before having to go back to work again and finish the ticketing week. I had a great Sunday with my special lady and wake on the Monday morning with the most bizarre kind of flu. My body tingled all over, I was dizzy, hot and cold, sweaty and my muscles ached. I phoned into work to say I wasn’t going in and spent a difficult day feeling horrible. I reminded myself of an old man when I made my way to the kitchen to get hot honey and lemon or effervescent paracetamol. I put a DVD in and pause it half way through so I can sleep. I wake, I take drugs and then I sleep some more. I feel terrible.
I know I can’t afford to take more than one day off so get into work the next day feeling like I’m going to die. I feel like I’m going to be sick, I’m convinced I have bird flu that H1N1 thing but ignore my need to go to the GP and stick to the plan of earning money through selling tickets. I’m coughing, blowing my nose and joking about having ‘man-flu’. In truth I shouldn’t be there. I completely hate the next few days. I make the flu last longer by working a full week. I know I’ve got to send a few e-mails and contact a few people in order to tie up the loose ends of Pizzaman. I can not be bothered to do anything. I’m not writing any more, I’m not reading, I’m not motivated to do anything connected to working out what to do next or even think about how to make a feature film. I know I’m going to my parent’s house for the weekend with Marlene to celebrate my great auntie’s 100th birthday but have warned my mother that we may not make it due to my illness.
For some reason I decide to go to a friend’s flat on Thursday evening to participate in his on-line radio comedy show. Whilst there I get a call from my heart to say she is having the same flu symptoms as my self. I make my apologies and get myself home to be a good husband. She is very ill. I call my father to really say we may not make it to Cardiff. We’re both gutted. I maintain my nurses roll and make sure we’re both feeling as best as we can by Friday evening. Luckily my special girl is feeling well enough to think about going to Cardiff, I’m also feeling a lot better so we call my parents to say we’re going to make it and they’re very happy. I’m happy too, we’re going to have a very early Christmas with them on Saturday night and then go to my Grandmother’s house on Sunday for the 100th birthday party. I still haven’t done anything to further myself up to this point.
We get on the bus and I spend the whole trip playing angry birds on my iPhone. I sometimes get hooked on games and end the plague on my life by deleting said travesty on my iDevice. It actually makes the journey go by very quickly. I’d bought a paper and brought a book to read on the journey. Far from opening my mind I’ve wasted my time but enjoyed it as I did. Is there any difference?
My father greets us from the bus and we get to may parent’s home where we relax and chat over MacDonalds we pick up on the way home. I love the chatting, it’s the first time in over a year where I’ve gone to just visit family. Usually I’ve had something to do for Pizzaman or had a meeting to help myself in some way. Spending a relaxing time with family is a new experience for me. I really like it, I don’t feel in such a panicked rush to get things done. I nip to Blockbuster to get a few movies to watch after we’ve exchanged some presents and get back to talk more with my parents and have our family Christmas. It’s a lovely evening. Everyone is all smiles. As the evening goes on we watch the film The Sorcerer’s Apprentice which proves a very entertaining, vibrant and well made movie. I enjoy it very much. We’d also hired Inception but didn’t manage to watch before we all went to bed.
I take a break from recalling the past to clean, cook, organise and arrange my abode before I go to Portugal for Christmas. I sit here past midnight watching Lions For Lambs directed by Robert Redford. The script is incredible. Matthew Michael Carnahan. The same man who scripted The Kingdom and other political satires, the man is a masterful writer. I am in awe. Even Tom Cruise gives a good performance in this film. All the elements are there. Also in that break I hired a movie from the library, Solitary Man with Michael Douglas. I’d never heard of the film before but loved it again because of the script that went along with it. That’s how you get people involved, that’s how you get money to follow, that’s how you get your film made. A script that will make your eyes bleed with the want of more and more and more. I want to spend the time to write something that good. It will be a hell of a journey I’m sure.
I can’t help but think about the journey I’ve just been on. A two year venture that didn’t make me money. I say an episode of Jackass where they talk about what they are doing now and at the end Steve’o said that after the first series of Jackass he was famous still had no money and was unemployed. Even the Jackass boys made nothing from the first series. It gives me hope. I think about what I could become if I gave up. I would be the Pizzaman. The guy who made Pizzaman, the guy known for a small art work on a platform that isn’t fully formed yet. I’d be a wet blanket; I’d be a hypocrite. Because I have thought about leaving it, leaving the dream, going on with my life. What direction would that be? What does it make me to continue? Big forks in the road.
After having a day with the family for my great auntie’s 100th birthday I go home. I loved it, my wife loved it, my parents loved it and then I’m back in work on Monday morning waiting for a day of on Friday. I can not be bothered to try and sell memberships, its my rebellion. It’s also ironic that by rebelling I’m effectively losing money; £1 commission per membership, I got good as well. I realise I absolutely despise the job. On Wednesday I think about becoming a Runner again for a Drama series, start from the bottom. On Thursday, out of the blue, I get a call from someone in Sky asking if I were free to work from January to April on a programme called This Is Jinsy, a new sit-com for Sky TV. Turns out I’ve had my number given to the Production Co-ordinator by Stephanie Burke a Production Manager I worked for almost four years ago for the first time. Again I’m surprised to get a recommendation from her as I’d worked for a friend of hers a few years ago and resigned a week into it because I hated it so much. That was a drama series too. Stephanie happens to be the Production Manager for This Is Jinsy. I call back and arrange to meet them in the morning. Friday happens to be my day off. My mind begins to spend the money before I meet them. I just hope that Steph wont remember my quiting. Funnily enough I also worked for her on ITV’s House Gift and commuted from Cardiff to London to do the job, she only found out very late on into the process. I effectively held the truth back so I could get the job. This was over a year ago now.
I get to the interview early and wait until twenty minutes after the meeting is due for the Production Co-ordinator to meet me. I go upstairs where I see Stephanie again, she’s pregnant. We exchange niceties and I keep my dignity by being honest and straight when if I really wanted the job should have lied about everything, as is the way in London. A fabricated story is more likely to get me a job rather than telling the truth. A small part of me likes Steph so I stay true to myself and of course get a call at the end of the day to say I didn’t get the job. I’m gutted for about four seconds before I let go of it completely. It’s good to feel secure in regard to finance but the job was driving, making coffee and working long hours for bad pay, no respect and no chance of promotion. I broke my own rule of never becoming a Runner again by harbouring these thoughts of actually doing this job. I knew it was a waste of my time and talent but I was about to sell myself cheaply to it again. I wonder why I’d do that. I continue to. For me it would be to make money only when I really need to progress into some sort of career. It’s a strange way this path.


















