Existential Crisis #1

Not a good day.

No motivation to do anything. Felt like crying. Your mother is supposed to be the one with the mood swings and today I was the one totally depressed.

Not to put too much pressure on you or anything, but it's your fault.

Now I have to be responsible. It's one thing to support your mother, but now I have to figure out how to make a living to support you, too.

I'll tell you one thing, you're not going to be raised in LA. I keep hearing people talk about $10,000 to send their kid to private pre-school and even if I had that kind of money, I can think of a lot more important things that trying to put you in a position to become buddies with Spielberg's kid.

Sorry.

Someday, you'll hate me for that.

Someday after that, maybe you'll thank me.

All I know is, right now I don't have any career, any hope of having a career, any realistic idea of a career I could have, and nothing but fear. And paralysis.

Your mom says everything is going to be all right. And yes, in her experience, everything seems to work out. Not in mine, otherwise I wouldn't be staring at a ten-year run at directing with not a whole lot to show for it.

It's remarkable, really. A month ago, I won a really prestigious award for my photography--Photographer of the Year. I also won another screenwriting award--First Prize, and not even for my best script.

You'd think I'd be optimistic.

I'd even consider taking a job, but at this point I've made exactly the wrong career choices. I can't even imagine that I'd qualify for a job.

Not good. Not good.