Bloggity, bloggity, bloggity, blah!
This week (15th-19th March) has been one of the worst so far this year. Where to start? I will dissect it day by day. (Today being; to the best of my knowledge, having not slept, Friday.)
Something or other occurred on this day. Our exhibition did not due to last minute planning problems. I did something (inconsequential), I think.
9am-11am I was in Chesil multi storey car park for my exhibition. I could not pay for my bay as the pressure pads deemed my weight less than that of a car. (By far and away the best compliment I received all week, not that I'm insecure and in need of constant affirmation.)
In this car park bay was me, four chairs, a couple of other people, a video camera and a tripod. I had a sheet of prompt questions and proceeded to film an interview between me and the others on the subjects of British society and politics. I was quite pleased with the footage I got.
I took this home and started to edit. For five hours. I came upon some difficulties with the wretched Adobe Media Encoder. I took a break to visit some of the other groups' exhibitions, which I will not comment on or review now but would be happy to share my opinions on should anyone ask.
I came home and worked on my footage in Adobe Premiere Pro CS4 and Media Encoder for a further six hours. WITH NOTHING TO SHOW FOR IT! Inex-fucking-plicable problems mean that Media Encoder decides to NOT WORK! (Excuse the technical jargon.)
I went to bed angry and depressed.
More car park. 11am-1pm today. It was sunny. The car park made me, for some reason, need to wee a lot. Sophie joined me today and I talked to her on and off camera at great length. I got some good footage.
I returned to my cursed bedroom desk to sweat in front of my computer monitor for approximately a decade.
Oh and I also, sort of, lost my entire hard drive based movie collection. This didn't help.
I continued to sit at home, trying to wrestle with the son of a bitch Media Encoder, while everyone else went out to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. (I'm not Irish and neither are they but heyho, it's the world we live in.)
By 10pm on the verge of a breakdown, sobbing like a four year old girl, I gave up and went to bed.
After a twelve hour sleep I awoke feeling more depressed than refreshed. I had my crit at 2pm so had to try and create something from my footage. You can probably guess by now what happened.
Heading out; laptop in bag, in hand, I trudged to uni and set up in my studio.
I chose, when starting university, to invest in a desktop PC as opposed to any laptop or evil Apple variety. This choice was based on performance and price but as a result leave my mobile computing capabilities with little to be desired. It works fine, it's just old. Like the man working in my local Wetherspoon's. The main problem with my laptop is the poor speaker sound quality, which should be considered quite important when showing a series of short films, but I thought I'd get by, as I do. Wrong. It was a shambles and, having been reluctant to state this in the public domain thus far, resulted in a less than useful crit session. This is of course, no fault (well, maybe limited fault) of the persons partaking in the crit but more down to the inadequacies of Adobe Media Encoder.
Heading home thoroughly dejected I vowed to myself not to do any work for a while. Instead, I prepared myself for real work from 9pm-1am. Fun. It was uneventful; dull some might say.
I DID NOT SLEEP! Ask me why.
Why you ask?
Because I'm an idiot! I got in, ate, talked to my housemate Jon for 1,2,3... 4 hours. Before deciding enough was enough and going downstairs to play Fifa10. And continue talking to Jon, for another four hours. Using my limited mathematical ability I work this out to be 9am on the next day after the one I just existed through. Now I'm here, writing this, awake, now.
So, where from here?
My first thought is to curl up in the foetal position and hibernate. I may just do that for the rest of today and this weekend.
On Monday and Tuesday evening next week I'm doing a physical intervention course for my doorman work. This requires me to be macho, something I just don't think I can manage at the moment. I'm also missing the Leeds vs Millwall game, possibly about the only thing that could have drawn out that latent macho man, hiding deep down in the darkest caverns of my being.
Next Sunday I go home for Easter. I can't wait.
As for now, I'm hungry so need to work out which meal it is I'm supposed to be eating.