Okay. So I am now on what is known in Showbiz Talk as a “break.” What this means in Regular Person Talk is that I find myself without a commission or paying job at the moment. It happens from time to time. Then one day the phone rings, somebody needs something yesterday again, and another frantic work cycle begins – at which point I start wishing I’d taken time to appreciate the previous break.
Trouble is, said break is usually accompanied by a thundering absence of cash (and it’s hard to enjoy one’s time off while the bank balance is ebbing toward homelessness). This financial freefall comes packed with bonus feelings of failure and borderline despair, accented this year by the moaning chill and Dickensian grays of what New Yorkers like to call “spring.”
But I’ve got a few spec projects to attend to during the current lull, as well as friends to catch up with. And there’s biking to do if we ever hit 70 degrees again, plus all the other odds and ends I had to table during the whirlwind that was You’re Gonna Hate This. Besides, I’ve been through this kind of thing a million times, so I know that it’s only temporary. I know this intellectually, the way I also know that “temporary” is a relative term which also applies to careers and civilizations. Still, before too long – I hope! – I should be overwhelmed by workloads and deadlines once again, and longing for those idyllic days of uncertainty and terror.