Funky Ave

Arrrgh.

I'm in a funk. My funk is not one of those pill-popping, liquor swilling, dark depressed moods. In fact, my mood is rather buoyant. My funk is from my confusion about what I should be doing on a day-to-day basis. When I've been hired to write a screenplay, I know what my daily task is: sit down and write the damn screenplay. That work typically engages me anywhere from four to fourteen hours a day. I love the work. But now, I'm sooooo in between jobs, that I'm lost, disoriented, in a ... funk.

Most veteran writers suggest we take this time to write that special spec script we've all be harboring for months or years. Or take the time to write a new sitcom. Or play. Anything--just write. And I'm cool with that, except for one thing. Many of these veteran guys have some cash to sit on while they wait for the next job. Not this lovely writer. In the words of that great poet Heavy D, "I ain't got nothin' but love for you baby." But love does not pay the bills.

So what do I do?

My friend Darryl says loudly, "Go get a job!" And I hear him. In fact, I hear my own voice joining that chorus. (I think my mom is in that choir too.) But here's the rub: I feel lost at how to get a "regular" job. I've been out of that market for so long that a high school senior knows how to land gigs better than I do. Honestly I just don't know what to do! Flip through the want ad section? Pass out my business cards? And what kind of jobs do I actually apply for?

I think people like me, in the arts, need a job a counselor.

But until I get one, I guess I'd better figure it out quickly. Hey, Santa is coming soon. I've been a good boy. Maybe he'll bring me something I need: money and work--in that order.