Sunday, October 25, 2015
It was a damn good crew.
I'd been a Best Boy* a few times now and a juicer even more, and few shows ran as smoothly as this one.
Everyone was laid back and always jovial, trusting each other to do their jobs, and despite me and my compadres slipping in mid-season, we fit in like we were part of the family all along.
I'd go out for drinks with the Art Department and have coffee with the Accountant. Transpo practically used our truck as a clubhouse when we were on location and I often took naps on the couch in the Prop Office.
An the UPM** was a very understanding guy. Sure, he'd get squinty when you asked for special equipment and extra manpower, but he always heard you out and even if he didn't give you what you wanted, he'd work it out so we at least got what we needed.
The hours were great, too. Enough to make a living, but not enough that you couldn't have a life, and the ADs put together schedules that actually made sense.
It was a pretty sweet show to be on and the people there were great. I loved them all.
...But not enough to stay.
I never totally got along with my boss, and so when the next season of the show came around again, I was faced with a choice: return to the show with a boss I didn't love but a crew that I did, or start a new one with a nicer boss but a lower job title.
I chose the latter.
While I would have loved to stay with the cool crew and a keep the higher job title, I realized that every time I thought about returning to work for the more difficult boss, a small sense of dread would form in the pit of my stomach.
I figured that couldn't be a good sign.
I felt sad that I would no longer see those guys every day, and I'd have to work hard to prove myself on this new crew. But I feel like in the end, I made the right decision.
I may have lost one family, but I've slowly starting to gain a new one.
*Or more politically correct, ACLT, or "Assistant Chief Lighting Technician".
** Unit Production Manager. Aka: the guy that controlls the budget. His job is basically granting/denying you stuff.
Monday, October 5, 2015
There are 168 hours in a week.
I'm at work for at least 65 of them.
I'm on the road commuting to and from set an average of 10 hours a week.
Usually sleeping in my car for about 4.5 hours a week.*
And sleeping in my own bed about 48 hours a week.
I'm out around town causing havoc around 10 hours a week.**
That leaves an average of less than 5 hours a day where I'm awake and at home.
Minus an hour each day for showering, getting dressed and other personal grooming.
Minus another hour to account for the mundane tasks of doing laundry, paying the bills, loading the dishwasher, making the bed, etc.
Which gives me about an average of 2.35 hours a day*** of free time, which quite honestly, mostly consists of me in front of a screen of some sort (whether it be a Kindle, TV, computer, phone, movie theater, whatever).
Which begs the question, how the fuck did my apartment end up so messy when I have so little time??
Previously. And previously.
*Despite the long drive times, that's still me leaving early to avoid the worst part of morning traffic. Which means catching up on my sleep in the parking lot before work.
**And by causing havoc, I mean going to the bank, grocery store, dry cleaners, getting the oil changed in my car, and all the other errands that life consists of.
***Realistically, this isn't divided up evenly over 7 days due to work and (lack of) weekday life.