Devoted To Some, Despising Others

I did the math today and discovered that on my current sleep schedule I'm averaging six "nights" of sleep per week. I guess six out of seven ain't bad. And I guess that's why I feel like I feel now. It’s catching-up to me.

"It's in Surrey, near the border," said the message telling me where the set has moved.
THE border?
Looking at my old friend Google Maps (it's the best; true that, DOUBLE TRUE), and checking on my public transit options (fun fact: Vancouver is the first place on earth Google Maps has added this option. This is also the first time I've used parenthesis twice in the same sentence) I found the quickest bus route would take about two-and-a-half hours. This is when I used the old noodle, and after the smell of burning wood dissipated, I decided to call in a favour. I asked my good choir buddy to give me a lift, figuring I had a snowball's chance in Helsinki that she’d say yes, but remarkably she agreed to "chauffeur" my famous keister right to the set. Brilliant.

My call time was for 7:30 Thursday night, so I asked for the night off from work, not really caring what the response was, I was just giving my manager the heads-up that I, under no circumstances, would be working for him that night. But I was working Wednesday night. Oh, and then I had training Thursday morning.

Since I'm with this shiny, new security company, I need to go through their extra, “Superhost” customer service training, which included such fun facts as: 96% of unsatisfied customers don't complain about poor service, they just don't go back to the place. What the hell does that matter to us? Our "customers" most often are the employees of the company, so what are they gonna do if we don’t satisfy them? Not come back to work? This training was a vicious waste of four, sleep-depriving hours, but at least I got my new pants; which I need to get hemmed. And the convenience doesn't stop here, I promise you.

During the training, the First Assistant Production Coordinator called me and told me there were "revisions" for that night. Revisions, eh? He said he’d e-mail them to me. I Then called my current security company to find out my hire date and when my six months "training pay" period was up.
"Uh, it's nine months, says so right on the contract you signed."
Please, no.
This was basically the last thing I needed to hear. Now, to save $1100 and not quit the company I am no co-employed with, I need to bring my "Transfer of License" form to them, have them fill it out, and bring it back to my new company. The fun never ends. Now I need to figure-out a way to serve the two masters for three more months. I asked them to e-mail my record of employment to me, and when I came home, lo and behold, the only e-mail received was the “revisions” (none of which had affected me), and not the record of employment. In fact, as of this writing I’ve yet to receive it, which doesn’t surprise me considering this companies record of generally being a terrible company. In fact, hands-down the worst company I’ve ever worked for. It’s not the worst job I’ve ever had, but it seems everyone in this company has their head jammed in a spot in which no head should be able to fit.

I tried sleeping through the afternoon before going to set that night, when I got a call from the agent.
"You've got an audition for Battlestar Gallactica tomorrow at 2:50 in North Van. There's no lines, but I want you to get the sides prepare before tomorrow."
Well, there goes my "recovery" day. I’ve never actually watched an episode of BSG, but it’s pretty popular with its fans, and looks like a pretty BA show.
He then called me back two seconds later.
"Oh, and with Battlestar they do not want any plot leaked, so I need to fax you the sides. You got a fax number?"
Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me.
"Uh, no."
"Do you know someone who does? C'mon, you gotta know someone."
I know LOTS of people, but I'll have to check my fax number database to see who I can get the sides faxed to in like, THREE HOURS. I napped a bit longer, and figured that these sides ain't gettin' to me, unless some guy named "Fax" brings them to my door.
"I'll leave it in an envelope near the pillar to your left outside the office."
Or that, that works too. I realized I needed new resumes anyway, so he stuffed them in the envelope too. My Chauff' picked me up at his office, and we were off.

We made really good time (would have made BETTER time had we stayed on HWY 99S, and not gone on 91 and then 99N, but I digress) and miraculously found the place, even with my wrong directions. I hit my trailer, and here's where the story blacks-out for fear of Fox's lawyers coming after me. I promise you, nothing interesting happened between my arrival and when I was told I was wrapped at 5:30am. Not even shooting. So after all the travel there and back again, I ended-up doing nothing. But hey, still got paid for it, and now await the call for when I'll be going to set again. Hopefully the set will be closer, but I won't be complaining about travel costs when the check finally arrives.

I got home Friday morning and slept like a rock for four hours, and felt pretty good when I woke-up for my afternoon audition. Basically I went to North Van, went in the room and said nothing, and came home. I chugged a Xience and hit the gym, being a day behind as it is, I really couldn't skip it again. When I got home, my phone had a Voicemail.
"Hello, it's Dan (one of my agent's assistants) you have an audition in North Van (good, didn't blow the one today, apparently) for the MOW (movie-of-the-week) 'Spectacular!'"
Oh no, I've heard of this. It's a musical. Well, at least that's what I THOUGHT, until I read the breakdown, and found-out that it's only PART musical. The character I'm going out for actually hates musicians and musicals and is an insurance salesman to make ends meet for him and his rock star wannabe brother. How strikingly true to life. It’s a massive eight-pager, the longest I’ve gotten yet, so it’s gonna need some coaching, either Sunday morning, Monday morning or both. Thank God for my acting coach for giving me options. I’ll check the sides and see where I’m at on my own, and if I feel like I need the work, well acting always comes first, so I may have to miss my drum solo at choir on Sunday. The drummer and some other choir peeps are hitting Whistler this weekend, and being the only male who doesn’t play an instrument, I’m supposed to be on the conga to keep time.

Before Sunday is Saturday and after I work tonight I need to go to the downtown location Saturday morning at 11am for more training. When I asked my manager how long this would take, he said only about an hour, since I know the systems out in Burnaby already. Let’s hope so, I’ll need as much rest as I can get Saturday before work that night, and going either to coaching or to mass Sunday morning, then the Foo Fighters concert that night. I’ve had this planned for months. I still want to go see Rush in May, but I’m not sure if any tickets are left, but at least I know a guy who wants to see them with me. Iron Maiden in June, on the other hand, I might have to go to alone. C’mon, it’s an “early days” tour, how can I miss it?

Saturday is the last graveyard shift, and it seems to be the only thing that’s coming at a good time for me. Everything this week has just seemed to pile-up on me, but once the new job gets figured out, I should be OK. I’m hoping to get on the job board with the company that lost the EA contract, which means they’ll call me to work, but I won’t be at a specific site, and I’ll never answer their phone calls. Seriously, screw them.

Having sleepless days is different than sleepless nights. I feel dried-out, my throat is dry and pained, I’m cotton-mouthed, and no amount of water can relieve it. I have red rings around my irises from napping with my contacts on (whoops). Now the palms of my hands are blotchy and have become very sensitive to temperature and touch. They feel tingly, and now there are red spots on my arms too. Good thing I finally received my BC Health Card, so I can go visit a walk-in clinic about this … if I can find the time.

Matthew 6:24 says: "No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.” I’m currently serving six: My agent, Chris Columbus, my choir, my two security companies, and EA. Let’s simplify things by saying I love the first three and hate the last three, but I have to serve wealth.

God does a lot, but until he pays my debts, my many masters must I serve.