After all... tomorrow is another day.

It is 4am in the goddamn morning and I just got home and walked my dog two miles. I think he needed it and I'm too wired from work to say no to him. Today, or rather yesterday, was quite stupid and dull and a complete waste of my time and of Wrigley's vast gum fortune. For no reason other than that no one thought to listen to the technicians, we had three crews and really only needed one. The Phantom tech built his rig and then derigged after lunch but they paid him anyway. Not one shot as the camera (a marvel of digital age hokum designed to run at high speeds and photograph rockets and bullets) couldn't deal with the lights we were using in the pool. Strobing and what what so it was expensive and pretty and amazing and useless. The underwater film camera did the brunt of the work while my crew sort of half-slept, half-worked throughout the night. Nice way to spend the night, sitting next to a giant tank with lights in it and a camera and a half dozen people in scuba gear and a woman repeatedly jumping off of a crane into said pool. A-fucking-mazing. Go Hollywood! I got to operate one shot, build a goofy rig in the rain (rain! night shoot! water work! Lions, tigers, and bears oh my!), and then go home. The part that makes me laugh is that the medic gave me a B12 energy drink that kicked into hyper drive as we were wrapping our gear. Time to read all of those books piling up atop my pile of books.

The best thing, really, is that later on today, after I sleep and then do some yoga and go to the gym, is I'm going to pal around with the angst filled man formerly known as my Dear Brother Numsie. Hazzah! Perhaps the sleeper shall awaken and get jiggy wit it. Perhaps not. Either way it will make me happy to see him.

Update at 11am: Just finished an hour of yoga and have suddenly realized that I only slept five hours. Perhaps my dream of never needing to sleep again is naturally coming true.

Peace out, bitches!