3.26.2021

March 26, 2021

I wonder if people get into politics - in the arm-chair-quarterback kind of way - because they run out of interesting things to think about. I am bored. Nothing ever changes. I remember how when I was in school, each year meant something. 4th grade, 5th grade, freshman year, sophomore year. It felt like I was actually leveling up. Like I'd been given chance after chance to get what I wanted: cool friends, good grades, a staring role on varsity. But now five years slides by with barely any notice. 

My thought life. I worry about productivity, career, my health, my fitness. About being too old and too behind. About not doing enough, early enough. It's exhausting and dull. This was my attempt to try to skirt the drudgery of adulthood. Instead, I have uncertain drudgery. 

Is it in my genes? Evolutionarily, is my body full of focus and meaning surviving to child bearing years, and after that it's like -- I don't know. Talk amongst yourself. Who cares. 

Just running out the time. 

I reread and made minor changes to a screenplay I wrote a couple of years ago called Hell House. It's better than I remember it being. Surprisingly good. I submitted it to three contests, figuring that way at least it will get read. I'm not sure there's actually anyway in. A shot at being a screenwriter might actually be by invitation only. 

When I was an intern, I read scripts submitted to one of the big competitions. I loved this TV pilot about a fictional Bulls franchise if it were being coached by Michael Jordan (who was suffering from a gambling addiction). It was excellent, and I gave it a great review. I expected to be seeing it on HBO in a few years. Maybe the writer went on to get an agent, staffed on a show. Maybe he's doing well. But of course, that show never popped up again. 

All this and I've been telling my mood app I'm feeling "good." 

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