a job's a job

this is the reason i do not have a real job:

this morning, i was really trying to get up early. i even accounted for the fact that i would definitely hit the snooze a few times. that's why the alarm was set for the insanely early hour of 9 am. i'm really trying to get up early these days and make the morning really productive--like making myself breakfast before noon.

as is usual, i rolled around my bed and hastily hit the snooze while enjoying the luxurious 300 thread-count linens i graciously inherited from the ritz-carlton a year ago. as i became increasingly irritable at the sound of my alarm, it sounded loudly for a third time. wait, no, that wasn't my alarm. that. was. something...else. think, patrick. think. oh, it's so early, it's so. sleep. yes, sleep... but. but... phone! it's the. wait. phone!

in the past, i have opted to shy away from unknown numbers suddenly lighting up the face of my phone. i have not yielded to the eeri--yet tempting--"unkown number" calls that ring occasionaly. but now, my life depends on them. news from an agent, a casting director, a filmmaker who wants me to work in a project. no longer do i prefer listening to a voicemail message minutes later; on the contrary, my livelihood depends on the unknown caller.

that's why i knew i had to answer my phone this morning. a rush call to the disney lot for today's shoot for pirates of the caribbean 3. only nine actors were needed; was it possible for me to drop everything and make it down to the set? "yes" is my answer, of course." immediately, sir! and that is why i don't have a real job. to make room for my "unreal" jobs. and to make room for my very first sag voucher.