work: an experiment in sleeping disorders

Check it out... it's me pulling my hair out. Actually this is just another shot from our up and coming movie project. Here's the rundown: Ash is brainstorming and frustrated (that wasn't too hard to "act out"). Pooch is explaining the situation in the "garage," which will become an integral part of the film. However, this is how I feel today... and I'll give you a little insight as to why I'm functioning on only three cylinders today.
There have been a series of "meth" stories that have aired on "the news station." I've been putting in quite a few hours on those pieces over the last few weeks. Yesterday was a thirteen hour day. Normally that's not a problem. I actually welcome the overtime (because I desperately need the money --- Did you know that the country is headed towards a recession unless the "Average Joes" start receiving 60 percent more than what they've been earning in previous years?). So, a thirteen hour work day: Not a problem. Waking up at 3:45am so that I can be at work by 5am, then continue to work another 16 hour work day... makes things a little more difficult. I've done a series of these kinds of days before. They're not pleasant but they're manageable. You put in the hours and expect that at the end of a grueling two-week work period that the Tax Man will not have been so cruel as to take the majority of your blood, sweat, and tears away. $300 may not be much for a "Hollywood-Type" to spend on a pair of jeans at a Sunset Strip elitist store... but for filmmakers on a (cheap-ass) beer budget (Natural Light, anyone?), $300 is a lot of money! Okay. Here's the kicker... Remember that "second job" of being a filmmaker? Yeah, I mentioned something about that earlier. Well, take those two days worth of overtime, lack of sleep, and throw in a evening shoot at the Siesta Motel directly after work. You've got a recipe for passing the fuck out on a set of stairs and cracking your head open. Unfortunately, if there was something oozing out of my head it would be nicotine and Red Bull... because that's the only thing that has kept me running.
When your car starts to sputter or rock a little, you throw a can of "fuel booster" or "fuel injector cleaner" into the tank and hope that the problem will burn itself off. What the hell do you think Red Bull does. It's only 2:30pm and I've already had three. I'm out of cigarettes and I still have the entire day and evening shoot to look forward to. I will also tell you that Red Bull definitely flushes your fuel line (if you know what I'm saying).
So, if I'm not exactly all there tonight or if I'm bitchy or spacy or I just pass out... I'm sorry. It could happen... especially the being cranky part. I have to act tonight... but I'm getting my ass kicked, so I think that looking like hell will add a little character to the scene tonight. Whew... if I make it that far. So, Monday I'll give you the weekend shoot update. If I don't die.
-B