eye of the tiger

Jim and I leave for Hawaii on Thursday, but tomorrow I'm meeting with Bigshot Producer. I'm trying hard not to faint again.

I wrote the majority of my screenplay last year at Jim's old pad, six floors above Pete's Cafe. I was on the sofa, already stressing out about getting my first draft out to Bigshot Producer. Jim was in the kitchen, making rice krispy treats with pink marshmallows so that they would look like mealworms. No, it wasn't for Halloween and yes, I did worry. But back to me, me, me.

Development Exec called, "Not to put more pressure on you, but (media giant whose name I cannot divulge but she's black, has a talk show, magazine, empire, etc.) wants to read your screenplay as soon as possible."

My bullshit-meter didn't make a peep. Bigshot Producer is very tight with her attorney. "Yeah, okay. I'll send you pages when I'm done." I hung up, took a deep breath and started to freak out a little. I got off the sofa to tell Jim, who had his back to me in the kitchen.

"Guess who wants to read my screenplay," I said. Then, my knees buckled, the room spun and I fainted. Jim said he heard what sounded like a body hitting concrete. I'm guessing he spun around and saw me lying on the floor, down for the count.

When I came to, Jim was on the floor next to me, with a scared look on his face. Situation reversed, I guess I would be scared too. I started to laugh once I realized what happened. I am so ridiculous sometimes, I mean, who the hell faints from work-related stress? Jim got me back onto the sofa and I think he offered me mealworms/rice krispy treats.

I wasn't that worried because that wasn't the first time I've fainted from work-related stress. Once, I took off to get away from everyone and everything. I checked myself into The Phoenician for some ultra-relaxing spa treatments. On my second day, I was in the gift shop purchasing a book to read. The cashier asked where I was from.

"Los Angeles," I replied.

"What do you do there in Los Angeles?"

At the time I was in the music industry, so I said, "I'm in the music industry." Then I started thinking about work. My knees buckled, the room started to spin and I fainted. The manager of the resort and the cashier were standing over me when I came to. The doctor was on his way, he was stuck treating members of Steely Dan for food poisoning. So they put me on a golf cart and drove me to my room.

To make sure I didn't faint for the remainder of my stay, every morning the manager sent a basket of fresh fruit to my room and every night, a hot fudge banana split brownie sundae - gratis. Did you read that Jim? No mealworms.

I haven't fainted since that last time, thankfully. I think this is the home stretch. Eye of the tiger.