Sunday Eve

I went out to Jerry's Famous Deli in Studio City to meet some people who are also screenwriters, whom I've met on-line. We chatted and networked (and I was reassured that I could make people that I don't know really, really well laugh, which is an important defense mechanism for me), and then I came home and stared at the computer screen.

Stared. Stared. Watched my tape of The Simpsons and The X-Files. Turned on the repeat of Babylon 5. Didn't get anywhere.

Then Darin called, and he and I talked for a long time. He helped. A lot. The kind of help that lets me think, I'm not good enough, I'm not smart enough, and goshdarnit, what am I thinking? But he asked me good questions about the kind of thing I want to do, and he had wonderful suggestions. In fact, he definitely came up with more stuff than I did. Part of the time I was thinking about where these story ideas could go or was I interested in this aspect. Part of the time I was drawing a blank. Some of the time I think I was afraid of making a dumb suggestion. I made value judgements about something I hadn't even voiced, so I didn't know whether it was stupid or not.

But now I have good, dramatic stuff to work with. (I face towards Cupertino when making my prayers and offerings.) I feel as though I can work on that outline and put something into it, make something that might at least be fun to work on, if not be "deep" or "brilliant". And it's not the introspective bent I usually have in my work. Whee.

Maybe when Darin and I start living together again these kinds of conversations will be second nature and I will feel more natural about discussing my ideas with him like this on a regular basis. Instead of feeling self-conscious and scared, like I have to have a perfect, full-grown idea everytime we brainstorm.

At Jerry's one of the things we discussed was Doris's recent bout with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I'm pretty leery of "syndromes" that can't be detected by chemical analyses -- I'm just wacky that way. If one person has a problem that is chemical/medical in nature and another doesn't, there should be some element that is detectable that is the cause.

However, her recent problems sounded awfully, awfully familiar.

She's been so tired she hasn't been able to get anything done: read mail, respond to friends, write. She's just wanted to sleep all day. Finally she saw a doctor who diagnosed physical depression/Chronic Fatigue (as opposed to emotional depression) and put her on a combination of Wellbutrin and Trazadone. She says she's doing much better, her sleep is more effective, and most importantly she's functional again.

Another participant in the Jerry's chat, Kathleen, talked about having had sleep problems due to high anxiety, and how she solved it with minimal applications of the drug Xanax. I thought Xanax was a sleep aid, but evidently it's an anti-depressant. She said that it relieved her anxiety and allowed her to sleep normally, which straightened out her sleep disorder and helped her avoid being sleepy all day.

I am a firm believer in better living through chemistry. If there is a drug or a combination of drugs that can help me avoid being tired -- mind you, this is vastly different than a combination to hype me up, which, let me assure you, I don't need -- I want them. I want the ball and chain of continual and unwarranted exhaustion removed; I'll worry about affixing the jet engine myself.

I asked Doris for the name of her doctor, since Kathleen's is in Houston. I'm also going to investigate these drugs with my own doctor, who's been prescribing a regimen of drugs for me that work for a while, until their effectiveness wears off and I start getting out of whack again.

Exhaustion has been on my mind, as I slept 10 hours last night -- and then fell asleep for two and a half hours this afternoon.

What the hell am I going to do when I have kids? "Sorry, kiddo, can't take you to the park, Mom's gotta go nap now"? Or if I'm working on a TV series: "Sorry, I can't come in for the staff meeting, I'm too tired"? I want earned fatigue.