Blow it up. Blow it back to God.

I have now recovered from the meeting. It was a day and a half ago, but it's effects were still circulating through my system until about 2am this morning. We got together at 4:00pm on Wednesday and were there for three hours. I took notes the whole time. I spoke up once or twice, maybe more. I had a Diet Coke. I was doing my part to make minimal eye contact. Power play, I thought. Show my skepticism.

The substance of the meeting was that essentially he'd like to keep the characters, keep the settings, and keep the general "feel" of the script, but reimagine it over from the beginning. Basically blow it up, find all the little pieces and then put it back together. I like Aaron, I think he's a passionate, creative guy, and he obviously is very much invested in making this film, but as the scope of the workload washed over me - especially after birthing the thing for two long, difficult, unpaid years - I felt an urge to weep. And then I wanted to slap him. Not out of anger, just as a tension breaker, you know, to divert attention from my suffering. I left with one of those headaches right behind my eye and that made me terribly nauseous, and I drove home in a kind of crescent shape, slumped over the wheel.

I still haven't processed it all. For their part, the producers came across as sympathetic... but they still won't pay me, and they didn't exactly say not to do the work. Of course, I am not complaining - per se - (I'm aware this is my meal ticket, should the thing get made) I'm just sort of... I dunno... in awe of the realities of the process. Jesus.