I had one day. One Saturday this fall without a wedding. One weekend day to spend with friends. That day? Was today.
I started trying to coordinate a thing- a Something Fun- weeks ago. We kicked around dates and juggled schedules. I turned down work, not once, not twice, but THREE times. I had plans! Plans with friends! FRIENDS...GOOD... I said to Joel, imitating Frankenstein.
"Sorry, no assignments for me. Thanks, and please ask me again!" I said. I pulled out the calculator. Could I do without the $375 worth of work? You know what? Yes, because time with friends is priceless, and I have so little of it, and what's one more assignment, one more shoot in the long run? I'm committed. I planned this. That's it.
And everyone backed out. Maybe they really are sick, and maybe they think they really did send me a message yesterday. Voicemail, facebook, email, text message inbox, gmail and multiple spam filters indicate otherwise. Maybe the other two had some sort of bedrest crisis; they never REALLY committed 100% anyway. Either way, no one picked up the phone. No one called to tell me personally they were backing out, but more than that, absolutely no one said that they were sorry.
So this was it. My ability to pay my half of the mortgage, to pick up the tab for the vet bills, to run my own studio, to work for myself and grow creatively, to travel and justify my investments in gear hinges on the fact that I am committed every single weekend between now and November 18th. My weekends will pass now in a blur of veils, digital cards, hairspray, henna, jet lag and cups of coffee from rest stops on 1-95, whipping through the editing as best as I can: a montage of other people's old friends, slow dances, quality time, toasts full of inside jokes and grandparents hugging.
My feelings are obviously a little hurt, and yeah, I'm over-reacting. But the truth is, I'm just really, really lonely.