The one where I lose it...

Awful day. Awful. I overslept in the morning . That was probably my first mistake. I was due to meet MK but she’s not free until the afternoon. No matter, I’ll got to Luxxe and get MW to come join me. Bah. He’s busy. So. I’m on my own. I do some writing and then I’m at the studio by 2pm. J’s got her own office there now, so she's settled in. She knows what she's doing. She's secure and loving every moment of this gig. I honestly wish I felt the same. I don't know why I don't. I think it's just all a bit new for me right now. Still, I can deal with that. I’m trying to chill out. And calm. And calm. It’s all go.

Mr X’s meeting the AD’s, finally, after the last time when I ended up meeting them all - not ideal. So..... They're coming back in for their interviews but I’ve still got stuff going on for Mr X. Today’s task – downloading all the pictures from his blackberry and his phone onto his laptop. Not that easy. His Bluetooth isn’t working properly on his computer from his blackberry so I have to Bluetooth everything to my computer. And then the phone. I have to send each picture as a text message to my blackberry. THEN I have to email the pictures from my blackberry to my email account on my computer. THEN I have to download them onto a memory stick. Then put them on his computer. This takes about two hours. By now I’m hungry. I’ve gone to get lunch and now it’s still ongoing. It’s now 5pm. I’m not sure what to do next. I’m asked to do some meeting set ups. And then I’m not. And then I am.

Mr X's friend has arrived at the studio (he'll also be in the film) as he's going out for dinner tonight at JC's house. JC is a hotshot LA film man. His scripts are becoming the thing of legend. However, Mr X is far from ready. I’m busy googling liquor stores as Mr X wants cigars, wine and whiskey. By now I’ve had enough. But, I’m busy making sure that Mr X makes his marketing meeting and then he has to make his script meeting. The marketing meeting goes on, because a ten minute music meeting beforehand wasn’t ’10 minutes’ but 25 minutes. Everything’s going on. By 7pm he’s in the script meeting. I ask him if I can go. He says yes. I leave. I’m going to go out to dinner with PMc, SS and the other Brits.

I pull into the carpark off San Vincente near Melrose and I get an email: “In the future, I can’t have you leave until I’m done. Shit comes up every minute. Your day ends when mine does…”

My response: “I’m sorry. I thought you wanted me to go. I am happy to come back. Would you like me to? I can pick up the booze…”

His response: “I didn’t WANT you to go. You asked if you can leave.” I didn’t respond to that. We would got into he said, she said etc., In Hollywood you just do what you can. You don't argue. I should have stayed. That's how it works. A better assistant would have stayed. Just I'm starting to get a life out here and am trying to enjoy it. Mistake one. When you're an assistant you have no life. I keep forgetting. It really is the way things are here and I have entitlement issues. I just think I can do my own thing. I keep forgetting you need to pay your dues in this town and I have nothing in the bank.

So… I pulled into a liquor store on La Cienega and bought the whiskey and the wine before going to a Cuban cigar store on Sunset near Doheny. They're trying to get me to smoke the cigars with them - to try them out. I'm inside a humidor. Fuck. I haven't got a clue. I call Mr X. He doesn't have a clue. He tells me to ring his friends. I do. They don't have a clue. So... I'm in this cigar shop and these men know I don't have a clue. I buy these Panama made cigars. Apparently they use Cuban tobacco because Cuban-rolled cigars are illegal. The men in the shop look cracked off their nuts. They're smoking the cigars and trying to get me to join them. One of them has no teeth. Nice. He's insistent that I suck on his cigar. Oh please. PLEASE! Is this now my life? A toothless cigar addict coming on to me in a shop on Sunset. Brilliant. I'm so tired. So so tired. But... I get the cigars. As I get into my car, it's surrounded by police. Not for me. But just because I'm unlucky. I sit there. Cigars in one hand, whiskey bottle on the seat... Finally they move on and I can head back to the Studio.

By now, it’s 8.30. I’m driving back in tears. There are certain times in the month when I just lose it and ... well. It's that time again. I’ve had enough. I really have. All I know is that I wanted to be at a meeting and I’m tired. I've got stomach cramps. I’m in a lot of pain. I’m tired. I manage to get through to JM. She talks me off the proverbial ledge but I’m crying in the car. I can’t really stop. I’m just not having a good day. It’s been so long. With his emails at 6am this morning and then his snippy email about me leaving the Studio – what am I to do?

I get back to the studio… and I’m back in the meeting room. I’m not contributing but everyone else has their ‘bitch’ there. I bring in the beer. By 10pm, they’re hungry so I’m dispatched to get the pizzas. On my return… I finally get to go to the bathroom. I get there and… Ms J comes after me. Mr X’s looking for me. I can’t take it. Ms J really wants to be here, JJK’s assistant is making notes and me? I'm acting out a bit. It's all over my face. I know it. The sulky, resentful face. I’m just writing, doodling, crying and feeling sulky. I don't know what I should do in this meeting so I do nothing. I just sit there. Quietly. Trying to stay awake. I'm tired. I'm always tired. I'm always dreaming of blackberries. I wish I was better at this.

I can't believe I'm not enjoying this. This was my dream. My dream. In a studio. Working on a film. But they're ripping apart every scene, it sort of ruins the magic. Every single scene is being looked at and who’s needed in which scenes. I’m trying hard not to be resentful. But I am. This is Hollywood. Again, I have to remember. You lose your life when you become an assistant and I wasn't prepared for this. Ooops. If I were to do this all over it would be different. But. Right now. All I can think is that I'm tired. Horribly tired.

I’m so frustrated. I just want to go out and get loaded. Or something. I just don’t want to think. I feel sick now as well. I just had three slices of pizza. I never eat pizza. Mr X's is sitting next to me. He can’t stop yawning. I can’t stop sniveling. Roof rings. It’s about 11pm. I’m racing out of the room. He’s just finished at Burbank and it’s good to talk to him. He always, but always, turns up when I need him. His commonsense just makes me feel better. At half twelve, they’re still at it. I’m still sitting there. I just can’t stand it. Mr X’s going strong. He's excited. Pure energy is driving him. Surely? I mean, this guy was up at 6am. I know because I got the emails... His energy is kind of impressive - I think it comes from a place of raw passion. I don't know. Whatever it is, it's sort of amazing that he can fire himself up.

Mr X’s brother yawning. And Ms J and I are emailing each other. I just want to crawl under the table and sleep. I wonder if I should join in. Right now, I have no idea what’s going on still and that’s hard to deal with. I don’t think I want to go to Pittsburgh now. Four months of getting tea. Four months of fucking up no doubt. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I need to write. I need to sleep. I know I’m not going to get out of this room by 1am. Which means home at 2am. Which means exhaustion. Utter exhaustion. I’ve had it. HAD IT! I shouldn’t have had the pizza. That was me reacting to the situation. Eating shit. That’s my fuck it these days. I can’t drink. I can’t smoke. I can’t do drugs… I'm just stuck in this board room. So..... I’ll have some fucking pizza motherfucka. I'm feeling sick.

I get an email from someone in the room: “Why the fuck are you here.” I explain: “I’m Mr X’s bitch. Everyone else has their bitch here…. My day ends when Mr X’s day ends.” I’m so lucky. on the one hand. I really am. I have a job. I'm sitting in a studio. This is the dream. I want to be in gratitude. But. Right now. I’m just angry. This is all about learning. I guess.

Now… I’m freezing. The air con is on full blast so I scope out the office and find some hooded tops on someone's desk. They're freebies connected with Mr X's film so I don't feel too bad about stealing one. I'll tell them in the morning - or bring it back. I'm so cold right now. I rip into the plastic bags and put one on. Thank fuck it fits. I feel a bit warmer now but I can feel a cold coming on and I’m shivering due to cold and exhaustion. I’m also filled with resentment that I have to be in this room. Ms J’s so pumped. She's loving this. Her excitement and enthusiasm, even at 3am, is amazing. Me. I'm going downhill fast. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Ms J’s all over it. “I know a marine in Pittsburgh”… “I know a line person who can run point ” I don't know anyone. I tried to redeem myself at, at 3.30am, sort of joined in and sounded like I was part of the meeting. I was slightly exhausted though… okay. More than slightly. We got out of the office at 4.02am. I’m in a daze. All over the place but I race… RACE home and then, at 4.15am… I get the call from Ms J.

Mr X’s had a car accident. He’s popped his tyre. He’s at the Beverly Hills Motel – could I drive him home? Noooooooooo. Firstly - he's okay. Which is good. But he needs to get home. He's stranded at the motel and it's now 4.30am. She says she’ll do it. She’s in total uber mode and I can’t cope. Fuck it. Let her go. But. No. This is my job. So... I call him. He tells me he’s on the phone to his ex wife. He’s going there instead. But I have to pick him up tomorrow morning. I suddenly remember we’re due in Burbank at 10am. That means a 130 mile round trip for a site that’s only 15 minutes from Nico’s. I burst into tears again. I’m so tired. Ms J’s all: “I love this… I live for this…” This is why I make films…blah blah blah. And I’m all – oh god. Is this my life? I'm so not being grateful. I'm just thinking - i'm tired. Horribly tired.

Mr X emails. He tell me to go to bed and pick him up in Zuma at 2pm. Technically a lie in but that's never the way. I collapse into bed at 5am. Two hours later my phone goes off. It’s Ms J emailing. It stops. At 7.50am… Ms J again. At 8.15am… Ms J again. By 9am I’m on the phone to the car hire company about Mr X’s car sorting it out. I just want to sleep. Where did my sleep go? Oh yeah. It didn't. I didn't get any cocking sleep. Two hours from 5.15-7.15am. That was it. I wanted to prove I could be a good assistant in a crisis.

Wednesday

So. Yes. Yesterday blurred into today. By 9am I’m on the phone to the car hire company trying to get the car fixed, picked up… something. Ms J has the keys to the car. Her intern will be at the office at 12 and will drop the keys off then. SO annoying. So, I’m on the phone to Budget, after no sleep remember, sorting out a new car and I really wanted to have lunch with MK and JM before the 1pm. No chance. I've got to sort this out.

I crawl out of bed. Nico’s having his own drama with work but he’s in fighting mode. I collapsed onto the sofa. The dogs, god I love the dogs, snuggled in next to me as I had a little cry of self pity. When Nico’s off the phone, he gave me some tough love and reminded me that this is my job. This is Hollywood. This is what people do. And I need to apologise for my behaviour – in that I left early. Make amends. All that kind of thing. Sigh.

I'm driving down Laurel Canyon. There's a man with a sign: No Job. No Food. No Home. But Grateful... or something like that. I burst into tears. Again. I really am emotion today. The reason for the weeping? Because I have so much to be grateful for. I, at least today, have a job. A job in the film industry. People would kill for this. And I'm weeping like a brat. Jeeeesus. The trampy man with the sign gave me a lovely smile. He just seemed so happy, that made me cry again. (Someone later pointed out he was probably on crack or something but I think that's just unkind - maybe he was just happy). There are always men with signs on Laurel at Sunset. I always wonder if they are on rotation because they seem to have days when they're there. I've not seen Mr Gratitude for a while now. I wonder if he's still alive.

I head down to Robertson at 12pm and have a vague chomp on some seitan pieces of chewy nonsense with JM before briefly greeting some friends and then… it’s off in the car to pick up Mr X.

I’m due there at 2pm. As I race down the road I’m calling Budget, I’m sorting out the car, trying to deal with the insurance… the full works.

At 2.01pm I’m there. First things first. Time to make my apology/ammends: “I’m really sorry if you felt that my wanting to leave early yesterday was, somehow, disrespectful. I’ve never been to meetings before so I thought I wasn’t needed… I really wasn’t trying to be rude.” I must have looked pathetic because he raced over and gave me a hug. Which was nice of him. I mean. I've had no sleep so I look like I've been punched around a bit and... So. It’s over. Time to get on with the day. Sometimes he's just brilliant. Just dynamic and brilliant. Like last night when he was talking about his film. Brilliant. And, right now... he's being brilliant. So warm. So kind. So caring.

We get the car and then it’s off to the studio. Ms J’s still being intense but I must not let it rile me. I just need to do my job. And by that, that’s work for Mr X. However, she’s made all these appointments and when I send them to Mr X he goes ape. They’re in the morning. He has YOGA every morning. I didn’t know. I’d have remembered that. Damn. I look like an idiot. I should have checked these. But I'm the one who let Ms J make the meetings. Why? Because I’m a bit of a pussy about all this and it was easier to let her just get on with it. So. They all change. I need to work on my boundaries – she’s walking around the studio now going “I love this”…. “I love this”…. I’m walking around going “Oh god, now what?” Rabbit in headlight scenario.

Still, the problem on the film was sorted today.. So they’re making a movie. I still don’t know if I’m a part of it though. Just get on with the job.

So… Mr X’s in a meeting and wanted to be pulled out. I went over and he said five more minutes. I returned and… Ms J’s outside the room waiting for Mr X's brother. She told me not to go in. When Mr X finally exits he goes “Why didn’t you get me out?” Jesus. I'm never going to win!

More meetings. More meetings. I sit outside keeping an eye on the time. Mr X leaves to meet his daughter at 5.15. Great. I can leave soon. “YOUR day ends when MINE does.” So… after doing some scheduling work… I’m free.

Off to meet MK. We’re going to talk about my script but by the time I get to Swingers I’m just too tired. And so’s she. So, it’s a salad and a chat and then… off home. After watching TV on the sofa… that’s it. I’m off to bed. I can’t take much more. And so much for tomorrow off. I’m due at Mr X’s by 2pm.

There is no word to explain how tired I am right now. Done. Done in. And ready to cry. What a pussy.