Picking up from last time –
My second song.
I feel sooo bad about the way I treated my composer. It is a humongous regret of mine.
I didn’t have the time or energy to have another experience like I had the first time around. (The first time around, we spent a lot of time changing our minds on even the main concept. It felt like we kept pouring so much time into working, but never really moving forward. And I couldn’t do that again.)
I was too busy flying back and forth to LA, and settling in to my new job. (I was working all the time – leaving around 1am, sometimes, doing work at home sometimes, and getting up early to come back.) There was sooo much do catch up on – so much to do. My life was a little bit of a mess.
(I’m sure this is covered somewhere on my blog, but to remind us, I had 11 days notice to start BMI, across the country from where I lived. And I had zero days notice to start my new job (which was a literal new job that they were creating because they were behind on things.) So, I was running on fumes and trying to do a lot at once. And maybe I could’ve handled it all. But I couldn’t handle spending so much time working on my BMI song. In my first assignment, we spent like at least 5x the amount of time we should have. And I could not do that again. And I went way too far the other direction.
I had never written with a composer before my first assignment, and in that experience, I had weirdly truly come to believe that the composer didn’t really need me.
They suggest in BMI to write music first, then lyrics. So, I told my composer “just do what you want. And I’ll write to it.” But he waited. For me.
At first I didn’t understand it. But he was like “I need your input.” “What? You need my input?” I thought I was making it easier by giving him free reign (’cause I was so done arguing). But for him, we wanted someone to actually work with.
Well, he barely got that.
I could’ve read the play on different flights. I didn’t.
Things I wanted to do above reading the play:
– read any magazine sold at the airport
– learn the life story of a stranger on the plane or in my terminal
– practice saying the alphabet backwards with speed and precision
– sort out photos from my phone or computer
– count the number of arm hairs I have
In case that didn’t get the point across – anything. I wanted to do anything but think about my next assignment after the 9-car-pile up of my first. And that’s exactly what I did – everything but my assignment.
Until finally I had to.
The Saturday before it was due (so not even 2 full days ahead of time) we started working on it.
I had a freaking meltdown in his room. We talked about the first assignment and I was like, “I don’t even want to write any more! Just let me sing and tap dance for the rest of my life.”
It’s not really true that I don’t want to write anymore – but can we all please remember that I was under a *tremendous* amount of stress starting a totally new job (on a different type of show than I’d ever worked on, with a higher level of responsibility than I’ve had as an AE before…), navigating BMI, finding and furnishing and apartment, finding someone to move in to my place in LA, and on and on and on. [I know that’s not really an excuse to forget the love you have for the thing you love, or to put a burden on your partner. So, give me like 95% of the blame, but I would love 5% of understanding leeway.]
There was a LOT going on. And that doesn’t make it right for me to make excuses. Everyone has a life, I know. But my brain wasn’t humming along at full capacity – the stress was burying me. So, can we please half excuse me for very dramatically flopping out wide across his bed giving my crazy monologue? Maybe? Can we at least just consider it, a little?
And this is where we’ll pick up next time.