The Bachelor play (Real; or otherwise titled, everything Stephen Brackett touches turns to Gold) closed last night, and after the last show, this really cute girl Fia (who’s off today to London for the Summer to do the Young Writer’s Programme at the Royal Court – good luck Fia!!!) asked me what’s next for you? …And I looked at her blankly and said something like, dinner? or I’m really searching for a mirror for above the couch, or just sort of waiting.
But then when I got home and started maniacally going over all I need to do this week, that I didn’t do this weekend (for a good Cottingham Cause), I realized I’m doing like 17 things. So I thought I would list them, right now, so I can feel ambitious, arrogant, and crazy.
I am: working on a second draft of feature length of I Have it, second draft of short film Real Estate (which gets shot in June,) attempting to start feature version of that short, rehearsing Earth for Global Cooling with Women’s Project, writing first draft of feature adaptation of F***ing Art for Little Bird Productions in LA, co-writing a feature Oh, Caroline 5 pages at a time, working a second draft of Mad Men Spec, working on second draft of Be A Good Little Widow for Ars, brainstorming what will be for Roundabout Underground, finishing Final Draft of play verson of pilot Mommies in Manhattan for reading in June, co-writing an evening of monologues to go up at the Kingshead in London in late June, and writing a short film about Erin’s dead cat.
Also, I am booking apartments, answering phones, getting yelled at, setting up and tearing down utilities, trying to be a good girlfriend and daughter and sister and person and go to the gym, wash my hair, give compliments, eat well, Read books, be smart and unafraid and rational. Generally ‘Living my Life,’ kind of like Rihanna, but way less cute / black/ small.