You know that dream you always have where you go to work only to realize you're naked or you're in school and you find out you missed going to Biology class all year the day before your graduation? Classic anxiety dreams, right? Well, I had BOTH of them last night. Writing this script is filling me with an enormous amount of dread. I realize now how dependent I was last season on former writer's assistant, Jamie Turner. See what I'd do was send him a line I'd written for one of the characters on the show and he's send it back to me with a more urban vibe. Well, Jamie has moved on to bigger and better things (The Shield) and I'm out here in the cold world of the urban sitcom wearing nothing and feeling like I missing something. My crutch, maybe?
I might be rethinking that WGA minimum vs. bartending wages. At least I know I do good work behind the bar.
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