The Treason of Images

Wednesday was gym and laundry in the rain.

Found a dead mouse on the carpet in the living room. Looked like it was just sleeping. Not sure if the cat was responsible. The cat is an awful mouse-hunter. She pounces and lets go. Maybe this one just had a heart attack.

Working on the new script that I keep getting interrupted on. HARROWGATE. I'm supposed to touch base with the producer sometime on Friday, but that's not confirmed. I just need to fucking rip through this script. I can do this. I can crank this one out.

Supposed to see a screening of Soderbergh's CONTAGION Thursday night. It's at the DGA Theatre. A friend invited me. Don't know if it's a special screening with a Q&A or just a regular screening. I shouldn't go, I should stay home and write, but a free screening is the right price for me at the moment. My managers are supposed to call me sometime during the day -- hopefully well before showtime but you never know.

My brain is falling out. I need to maintain some manner of inner peace in order to move forward. To move beyond all today's worries.

It gets better. It gets better. It gets better.