I've been having a pretty good day today. This would have been a bad day three weeks ago, hah. Good and bad are relative and humans can adapt to anything.

I've been getting some work done- I've had one paying gig that I'm waiting for revisions on and sending photos through. It's gone okay. I missed the line in the e-mail the day before the shoot where he asked us to come earlier than initially planned and had to call and apologize on the way. Everyone was really nice about it, but I felt like an asshole. We managed to set up quickly and actually had all the stuff we needed to do the shoot. If I'd had more time, I would have moved more furniture and set the room up the other way. I feel like everything I shot was crap (thank god I was shooting the photos in RAW, so I didn't screw those up too much), though I managed to handle being nice and pleasant. I was probably too apologetic, and perhaps too accommodating. But I came in feeling like I'd already fucked up. Not good for wielding a camera, you really do need to be confident.

The communication has been fairly good, though. And at this point I only really regret being late, forgetting to ask someone to introduce themselves, and that I can't do more to improve the quality of the audio. Should have monitored it at the time. Next time. I hope there is a next time with this company. They're really nice people. And reasonable. And I didn't have to pull a contract out of my butt to initiate the gig. I hate writing contracts. And you know, it's really terrifying to watch the savings dwindle while I sit here and suck at life. So more paying gigs with reasonable people would be a freaking godsend.

I sent out messages today for people who I'm supposed to meet with about more paying gigs. I should really get on that laundry though. You cycle through your black professional clothes (wearing black makes me easier to crop out or ignore should I somehow wander into a shot) very quickly during funerary stuff.

I feel hollow as I do all of this. Like I'm watching from somewhere outside of myself as I let my body take on the mundanity that keeps it alive. I miss being in my body. Where did I put my motherfucking turnip again?