Decompressing

It's 4 am here in LA and I woke up an hour ago from all the stuff whirling around in my head. I just made out my writing schedule for the rest of the year - setting some goals and factoring in how I'm going to pay for all those goals as well as accomplish them.

There's no way around it - there's a lot still left on my plate for this year.
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It's officially Sunday, Sept. 11th, 2005.

It was around this time 4 years ago, that I got a phone call from the east coast saying that a plane had hit the tower. I turned on the TV and saw the second one hit. I went into work that morning and turned on the TV. My boss, writer/director/producer/distributor Nico Mastorakis, was scheduled to leave the country that week, and fly back to Greece where he lives most of the year.

It wasn't going to happen.

I think he ended up spending an extra 2 weeks in LA, which at the time was good because he could work on .Com for Murder. I think he spent most of the time shopping.

Life is weird like that...

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It's quiet here at the secret mountain HQ. Nothing brewing down in the Lab. No rumble of traffic from the 2 and 5 freeways. No car headlights angling north or south along the freeway. No "Silent Bob" (our landlord's dog) barking at the squirrels.

I'm going to go turn on the Weather Channel and see if that will put me to sleep...