Today should have been a good day. I actually slept last night. I had the time I needed to finish a trailer I’m cutting for a friend’s short film (said trailer is woefully tardy). I have a date with a smokin’ hot girl to see Prometheus tonight (okay, it’s a platonic date, but still, I get to go in the company of a smokin’ hot chick).

Around noon I got the call that I got cast in a micro-budget horror film. It’s only three days for me, and the movie might never, ever see the light of day (this script is bad), but it’s a gig.

Hell, I’m not even broke. I mean, I’m far from flush; I’m waiting on checks, rent’s late, etc., but I have work, the cats & I can eat, and there’s more work on the horizon. And to top it all off, I seem to be winning the battle against the  Midlife-Crisis-Whiny-Bitch Thing (Which shall, henceforth, be referred to as The MCWBT). All in all, this shoulda been a great day.

And then… well, see the previous post.

So, shoulda been a great day, but, it’s amazing how niggling little things can really nettle you. They dig in and burrow and fester. First thing this morning I discovered — on Twitter, of all places — that I had been quietly un-invited from going on an outing I was really looking forward to. Just writing it seems ridiculous, but it really stung, much more than it should have.

Of course, after that, everything annoyed me at a scale exceeding its proportion. I ended up having to drive to Culver City, then the Valley, which blew my workday to shit. The whole time I was thinking I should call and cancel the horror gig because it’s a stupid waste of time. That’s when I wasn’t wondering how much, if any, intent was behind my being ditched from said event, and should I just announce the insult to my oh-so-delicate sensibilities, or suck it up and get over it. Etc. Etc.

Once I decided on the latter course, I began to deflate and cool off. So, I’m gonna work on that trailer for the next few hours, go on my date, try not to talk to the friend who either forgot me or bumped me from said event, ignore The MCWBT and have a great time.

Hopefully, the movie won’t suck, but I’ll certainly let you know.

Whatcha think?

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Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight. — Phyllis Diller