Last night I dreamed I was back in my old room, the little loft bedroom in the bush. I woke up in the middle of the night, harassed by mosquitoes, and couldn't work out where I was.Today I worked hard all day being a consultant - there's a ridiculous amount of work in Brisbane, which is flattering, after years cobbling together bits and pieces in Byron Bay. Suddenly everyone wants me. Two men had words over who got to employ my services - that hasn't happened for a while, I can tell you.
I've only got the one work outfit - two at a stretch. I've pretty much spent the last five years in fisherman's pants and T-shirts. Hopefully they assume I'm washing my little summer suit in between each time I see them. I might have to break my Compact and go and buy some clothes on the weekend.
This evening I knocked off early because I had Orientation Night.
I've enrolled in Film School.
I've a small, curled up dream that hides embarrassed from naysayers and the sensible decisions.
I'm going to be a producer.
So now I'm a film student.
Might as well, I thought, seeing as we're going to be in Brisbane for the next couple of years.
Anyway I left work (home) at 4.30.
Orientation was at 5.
My school is two suburbs away.
It should have taken ten minutes.
There was traffic.
I got lost.
I got there at ten to six.
Orientation only went for an hour.
I was crying into the mobile phone to Lovergir, lost on some main road in bumper to bumper traffic inching forward at a tectonic pace.
'I know I shouldn't be crying (sniff sniff), it's just bloody orientation (sniff). But it's compulsory and now they're going to kick me out and I will never get to make films and all I'll do in Brisbane for two years while you're following your dreams is workworkwork (proper sob)'
So I came home
Lovergirl's cooking me spaghetti bolognaise.
That should make it better.
1 comment:
I always cry when I'm late. Late, stuck, on the way to a new dream. I would definitely have cried.
Cool dream, btw.
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