cellini's Diaryland Diary

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I'm Just a Fucking Spaz

Right now I'm just writing here because I'm all restless and worried that I'm not doing enough and that I've somehow fucked everything up even though I am empirically doing great, professionally.

People are being fucking wankers about class sign ups. Asking me to hold spaces for them and then not getting back to me or saying they want a spot and failing to actually pay the deposit. Meanwhile I've got facilities to book and shit and I need a good head count already.

I'm so sick of organizing the classes. I want to officially stop doing them except that I still don't know when I'm getting my other $8,000 or so that my publisher owes me and now I'm starting to worry about how to get through November if I haven't been paid yet. So I had to take someone up just now on a request for a group booking for a class at the end of November, which pisses me off.

It will only give me a few days at home with Trish and the kids before I have to run off on the trip to Eleuthera for the new book, but at least this way I'll have just been paid a bunch of money to help pay my expenses. That trip is probably going to cost me at least $2k. If I get the 'room-ette' on Amtrak then I can add another $350 each way to Miami.

I feel very keenly every fuck-up and failure to respond quickly to an email. Suddenly recalling something I should have responded to a couple of weeks ago sends shocks of guilt tensing up throughout my body. I need a personal assistant or something. Also a blowjob. I really just need a blowjob.

My book agent is so weird. For an author and book agent, she writes ridiculously short and obtuse emails. I can't tell what the fuck she's talking about and its never clear whether she really understood whatever I last told her. She's a very capable agent where it counts, however. She is also very patient with the fact that I am, at the end of the day, an annoyingly precocious young author who is trying to do way too much all at once and nobody can really keep track of what the fuck I have going on. Not even me.

She hasn't gotten around to watching my pilot yet. What the fuck? Her firm is also supposed to be representing me for the TV deal.

11:32 p.m. - 2010-10-13

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