The last few nights of work have dragged on. And it drives me crazy. I'm just distracted enough not to be able to focus on anything else - like research or stories or outlines...but not distracted enough to be...distracted.
Know what I mean?
The last few days, I've barely done anything. And I realize the last few weeks, I'm been barrelling towards burnout. I was in a different city, town, county every other day, preparing questions, holding interviews and coming home achey and tired with just enough time to put a salad together and get to work on time.
So these last few days, I've dragged myself out of bed, stretched, worked out and then stall until it's time to go to work. The other day was good. Getting good reviews on your stories can really help one's confidence. But then you stall at the next story and you're down again. You get offered a shot at yet another paper, with wider circulation - but there's no firm date on when that will start. So you worry in the mean time about how you'll fit it in, how you'll pay for all this insane gas you're burning up driving all over the freakin' state.
My brain...quite simply...is mush.
I stumbled though an phone interview this afternoon. One that could have been insanely interesting - with Logan Smalley, director of the documentary "Darius Goes West", which has been sweeping up awards at film festivals everywhere. Even though the interview was only to be part of a feature, I wanted to take advantage and ask a slew of questions. Instead, I could barely think straight.
I hoped tonight would go by fast, that we'd be busy and I wouldn't sit in that horrible purgatory mode that makes me feel like one of Nicole Kidman's freaky kids in "The Others".
It went by relatively fast...because it sucked. It's not even worth describing. I spend ten hours a night on the phone with truck drivers. I don't feel much explanation is necessary.
My job tends to melt my brain. Hours of insipid questions and other annoyances wind it tight - too tight to manage. When I go home, I'll lay in bed, unsure how to fall asleep. I'll wake up just as tired - even if I spend a solid eight hours under the covers - and it'll take quite some time for my body to stretch itself out of its stiffness.
So much is supposed to happen this weekend in terms of the festival - that if I am able to get any interviews set up for next week (before everyone disappears for the weekend) I don't know how I'll fit everything in. And I'm starting to panic.
Scratch the starting to...