a modern day warrior

One thing I've always hated about planning is that if I make it too fluid, I won't have the discipline to stick to it ("I said I was going to do it, but I don't have to do it now...") and if I make it too rigid, other people invariably come and screw it up. :) Which, for someone with as high a P score as I do, is a perfect reason to overhaul my entire plan. A plan, I might add, that is extremely flexible.

Right now I am correction-taping my planner and killing the plans I made last week for the next eight (now seven) weeks. But on the upside, I have somehow oddly conditioned myself to stay home and write the two films that have been festering in my head forever. I actually got home at 10 PM today. I think I have gone to Borders and Kino so much, and sat in the Cathay Starbucks and the Wheelock Coffee Bean (which I am now avoiding because I accidentally took another customer's iced tea, instead of my tea latte. Don't ask me how I did it. I was tired) that there is nothing left to do. Actually, I stopped having things to do in Borders when I finished reading The Wolf of Wall Street. Clearly my subsequent impulse buys of Meisner's The Art of Acting and Lance Armstrong's autobiographies (and the Les Miserables Complete Symphonic Recording and Original London Cast recording) were merely sad attempts at injecting some meaning into meaningless meanderings around town. Funnily enough, Borders does not seem to have Glamorama, but it's okay, I think I borrowed it from the National Library last week (unless it was Less Than Zero? Hmm oh crap I swear I borrowed three books, but I only see two. Oh never mind.) But well, it's good. Good for my wallet, especially.

I must admit at this stage it is a very refreshing thought, thinking of waking up next Monday, rolling out of bed and onto my chair, where I will have nothing to do but write those two damned short screenplays.

I still haven't packed my room. I really should. ... I really should. I wonder about the effect of packing my room on my willingness to work at home. If I turned my room into an office with a bed, drumset, guitar and wardrobe, hmm. Or, well, more like a study, since I have a stack of books behind me right now that's about half a metre high, and there are more books in the room. Hmm.

I have here a library book - Thornton Wilder's Our Town, The Skin of Our Teeth and The Matchmaker. I just finished Act One of Our Town and the book is due tomorrow. I wasn't too impressed with Our Town the first time I came across it (Teo Gene-en's Lit tutorial) but I thought I should read it because Meisner, Mamet and Adler all mentioned Our Town. It... kind of grows on you. I'm not sure how to describe it. It's not spectacular and it's not brilliant, and it's brilliant for precisely that reason.

Rebecca: I never told you about that letter Jane Crofut got from her minister when she was sick. He wrote Jane a letter and on the envelope the address was like this: It said: Jane Crofut; The Crofut Farm; Grover's Corners; Sutton County; New Hampshire; United States of America.
George: What's funny about that.
Rebecca: But listen, it's not finished: the United States of America; Continent of North America; Western Hemisphere; the Earth; the Solar System; the Universe; the Mind of God - that's what it said on the envelope.
George: What do you know!
Rebecca: And the postman brought it just the same.

- Our Town, Thornton Wilder

I'm tempted to switch to Wordpress. I like how simple and efficient Livejournal is, but Wordpress is simply more powerful. Categories, for one. Pages, for another... and the option of more than one blog under the same account. Should I switch to Wordpress? I think I might.

Supposed to meet ZT at Tampines MRT in under seven and a half hours. Back to correction-taping.

Moved to Wordpress.