cellini's Diaryland Diary

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A Restless, Nervous Wreck

Once again, I woke up at around 4 am this morning and couldn't get back to sleep. I was tired enough but I couldn't stop worrying and thinking and borderline panicking.

I am so tired. Not just from waking up so early but I mean I'm tired. I have been going so hard and so fast for so long with this whole thing. Since last September it has been so intense. But where is the pay-off? What the fuck am I doing? At 4 am, inevitably, the whole thing feels like one gigantic failure waiting to happen. Like I'm about to fall flat on my face. There are so many things to go wrong. Still nothing worked out for sure with getting a deer for this class NEXT FUCKING WEEKEND. I still don't have a signed contract with my supposed publisher and I have no idea when or whether this book advance is going to materialize. And seriously, what are the odds that this TV show will actually happen? Even if it does, what are the odds that I will get paid anything remotely worth the work and time?

Yesterday afternoon I got an email from the regional daily newspaper asking to do a story on the new class that we are going to start offering. They want to do a big photo spread for their Sunday edition. I guess that this would be really good. My partner in this class is over the moon about it. But I still don't know for sure that we are going to find 4 people willing to actually pay $900 to take this course where they learn how to build their own hunting r1fle.

I just feel like I'm constantly at the edge of total collapse. Like this whole thing cannot possibly work and I'm going to be broke and homeless by the end of the year. I'm restless and agitated. I've been getting ice-pick headaches by my left ear a lot lately. It pulses every 3-30 seconds at these irregular intervals. The only thing that makes me feel better is fucking, which isn't really happening much lately.

Its all so tenuous. I still have no capital. No money for business cards or publicity photos to give to all of the people asking for them. The pressure is just getting to be too much and I really can't take it any more unless something finally fucking pays off with some real money.

While I lay in bed, I was thinking seriously about stopping the whole thing. Settling my current obligations and doing the class next weekend and then walking away from all of this. No more books, interviews, classes, workshops in NYC, articles, TV projects or other events. Just turning off the lights and going home to mow the lawn and live my life.

Only I really can't do that. Because we can't pay the bills with my regular paychecks and my job will not exist next year. Living my life quietly and privately is not an option. This whole thing I've been doing is my only option for survival. I have to either make it really big and get famous fast, or I am completely fucked and will lose my home and have no way of supporting my family.

I don't want to be famous. With fame comes constant criticism and relentless annoyance. The level of fame I have right now would all right to maintain. When I was in Puerto Rico a few months ago I got recognized by a group of overweight women the next table over at a beach front bar. That was kind of neat to have happen so far away from home. When I last took my car in for repair the guys behind the counter remembered hearing a couple of radio interviews with me and were all over that. Something like that happens a few times a week.

Maybe there is some other exit route for me. I've gotten so good at getting and managing media exposure that maybe there is a non-profit that would hire me to manage their publicity and be a spokesman. Doing this shit with a regular and predictable paycheck attached to it could be kind of fun.

I am turning into a nervous wreck. I don't think that it shows but that is what's going on. I'm sick of having to be obsessed with this whole thing but I *have* to be. You can't do something like this in half measures and get anywhere.

8:20 a.m. - 2010-04-30

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