cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Escape As it turns out, quitting your day job and walking away from the desk means that you are in fact no longer in front of a computer and are no longer on the internet nearly so much. Instantly, I'm hardly ever online. I live outside now. In the woods and on the water. I've been bagging geese for this event in NYC next month and getting the camper that we bought all fixed up for this trip to Florida. We heard back from Spike and Nat. Ge0 yesterday. They like the show and want to see more. They want more video from us and we're filming a pilot during this coming week in FL. My producer is spazzing out and talking all of this shit about needing to write out the script. What fucking script? He has no fucking clue what is going to happen down there. He doesn't know the science or hunting tactics, either. How can he write a script? Its fucking retarded. I'm thinking that maybe he just feels like he needs to do things to prove his value in this whole thing to me, which is really unnecessary. Tomorrow (Sunday) is my last day at home before hitting the road on Monday. I can't believe this is really happening! I made this batshit-crazy plan and just started taking steps towards making it happen and the world is following along and cooperating. Major cable TV networks -- NATIONAL FUCKING GEOGRAPH1C -- are asking for video of my trip. The power of deciding and announcing is huge. Just deciding to do something and announcing it to the world puts you in a position where you fucking HAVE to do it or you look retarded. This is the major secret of my success. I spent today at Mary's parents' place helping F. with a construction project. He's paneling in a large covered porch. I helped some with the carpentry and mostly did electrical work. Putting in some new wiring for an overhead fan, a few outlets and a switch. There were more pressing things that I should have done today but I know that F. really needed help with this so I did it. I made the right decision.
It was one of the finest days on the water I have ever spent. I am also pleased that I got Bob to come along. He hadn't paddled down that river in at least 5 or 6 years. He hadn't taken a canoe out at all since the last time we went elk hunting. Bob is almost 60 years old and he wouldn't get around to doing anything like that anymore if I wasn't around to goad him into it. Have I ever mentioned here before that Bob is my wife'e (Trish) father? It still doesn't feel quite as though I have really quit my job. I still feel like I have to go back to work the next day. And a part of me wants to. That stability. That familiar routine of going to the office of a morning is something that a part of me misses. I miss seeing my father every day. The idea that there was a place for me which is gone now is very hard to fully grasp and internalize. But I am happier. This is definitely the case. Every day I am happier and healthier. I worry less even though I should be worrying more. My elbows don't hurt so much, which tends to support my suspicion that tennis elbow in my case was aggravated by workplace ergonomics. I still wake up almost every night at 3 or 4 in the morning and have trouble getting back to sleep. Sometimes I can't get back to sleep at all. I think this might pass once I have a few tens of thousands back in the bank from book advances and TV money. Not having to worry about fucking up one little piece of paper and ending up in court for the next 3 years is a major relief. That was always such a source of stress. The fact that I was dealing with the potential disposition of millions of dollars of other people's money. Sooner or later, I worried that I would screw something up and wind up in serious trouble. A simple typo could do it. I wanted out of that shit. And I got it. I truly did fear for years that I would die at this desk. That I would work this job for the rest of my life, barely making a living. Trapped. But I got away. I got out after 11 years. I feel bad for the people who are even deeper in with no idea how to get out. The accountants and the lawyers and the telemarketers. After the first few years, its all just doing shit at a desk and watching yourself get older in front of the mirror every morning while your life is pissed away making money for other people. And if you make some for yourself as well, so what? So what if you only have 2 weeks a year to spend and enjoy it? GET OUT NOW. 10:51 p.m. - 2010-09-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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