I have two jobs.
Both of them suck and blow. and suck and blow and suck and blow. But you know what, after repetition that process creates a form of release known as Gaaahh! shit yaaaaaessss.
To be more specific, their not jobs, their internships… film related which is Latin for no pay
Actually it’s a rough translation film related = without fruit or bearing no fruits BUT THEY SHOULD SEE THE PEOPLE WORKING IN THE ART DEPARTMENT? AM I RIGHT? PUFF PUFF, exhale, blase, scissor sisters. LESBI-ARNS all of them. except for the men. they are homozygous GG for GAY!!!!
What I am saying is that my jobs are unpaid… and to say the work is menial is to say that you are reading this sentence. Because you are… multiple times to make sense of what I just said.
I know it sucks, and yet somehow I enjoy them? Why is this? Let me paint the picture for you, using only dull greys and browns and magically creating something beautiful.
Internship 1: I work for a film festival. I collect people’s scripts entered for competition, log them, and eventually will start to read the “NO’S.” That’s right, they do not even trust me with reading good scripts. They hand me the rejects. The only way it could be worse is if I entered in the contest, and one day a stack of scripts falls in my lap, and the one on top was my own. That’s how much respect I get.
Why it’s Awesome: My boss knows it sucks. She pities me. (She also pities herself, but that’s just my speculation) I work 3 hours tops a day and 3 days tops a week. I enter the place and they say they’re sorry. I say I can’t come one day and they hand me some pills… no I mean they say NO PROBLEM, do what you gotta do. PLEASE DON’T QUIT! I am simultaneously treated like a God and a plebian. Also I get a pass for the film festival. Price tag on that is rougly… way less than what I would get if I had a normal job. SHUT UP SHUT UP!
Internship 2: I work on a movie set. REALLY!? hold on. It’s an independent feature. I work for the Locations Department. What do they do? Paperwork, moving cars, and collecting trash. Glamorous shit. Movie sets are busy places. They work 6 days a week, sun up to sun down. And I’m invited along. I work 8, 10, 12 hour shifts in the hot sun, with gnats and ants and mosquitos and blisters and seriously what the fuck am I doing there?
Why it’s Awesome: I get little sleep and no gas compensation meaning I’m literally paying to do their work. Also they require me to perform illegal activities without blinking.
Sorry, No Really It’s Cool: For some reason working on a movie is in itself a thrill. It’s a masochistic love-hate joyride. When they ask me to shuffle the Port-a-potty out of a shot, I do it gleefully with a shit-eating grin… not literally. It’s the weirdest sense of pride I’ve ever had: Wait let me get this straight? You want me to wait around for hours doing nothing, but then bust my ass for some of the most demeaning tasks at the worst hours at the drop of a hat?
Excuse me sir, you dropped this. *picks up and dusts off director’s hat* I’ll take it.