I know I said in last year’s post that 2019 was going to be my biggest year yet, and while it was indeed the biggest year ever, 2020 will be even better. Just like last year, I’ve outlined my goals below to make 2020, The Year of the Gagnon.
Let’s start with the obvious. I’ve been away from this channel for quite some time, and yeah, I miss it. I thought that in order to be more productive in my writing career, I had to focus on the projects that could lead to paid gigs, like my screenplays. But then, I’d get home after a long day, and I’d do nothing, or waste time. The point is, I wasn’t writing.
When I wrote new blog posts in the past, it utilized a different part of the brain, but at the end of the day, I used my brain. The constant stream of output allowed the narrative functions to relax, and the analytical processes to ignite. I loved the feeling of being productive in multiple facets. If I was able to paint something (that I didn’t hate), I’d do that more, but even if I painted something God awful now, it would serve the same purpose as a blog. It’s an expression of the mind through other channels and that’s freeing. I miss that.
Today, I was gobsmacked with a wave of nostalgia. I went to a new restaurant for my office’s lunch run, Belcampo, on 3rd Street in LA, and it was there (in the Verve coffee shop next door) where I spent many a day typing away at my creative endeavors. Whether the focus was My Cancer Story, a screenplay, or the then-numerous blog posts (yeah, sorry about that), I spent my free time (of which I had ample supply then) ticking away at my form of expression. On November 8th, it will have been three years since I moved into my first apartment here, the temporary room rental on Blackburn Ave.
I’ve done it. After five painstaking months, I’ve completed the third draft of “Thank God for Cancer” (formerly My Cancer Story). If you’re a consistent reader of mine, you’ve likely noticed my absence from the blog. Now that I’m a Writer’s PA (first on Ratched, now on 9-1-1), finding free time is hard, especially when I was knee-deep into the hardest draft of any piece of written work I’ve attempted in my life.
While I never heard Donald Wade utter these words, I live by them each and every day. Sometimes to a fault; I’m hard on myself because I know those hours I sneak away watching mindless YouTube Videos don’t add to my career, but nevertheless, I’m maximizing my efficiency daily.
When I moved out to Los Angeles two years ago, it was to begin a chain reaction of goals in which to accomplish. I spent over a decade of my life post-cancer doing little regarding creativity or towards a profession. Sure, I went to school for four of those years and made some films, but the momentum from the education stalled, and I was left to wander aimlessly.
In fact, I hadn’t realized it had been five weeks since my last post until I sat down to write this cry for creative sanity. I’m not even certain how this post will do considering Facebook recently ruined the ability to hotlink automatically from WordPress.
Sure, I’ve been chipping away at the My Cancer Story rewrite when I’m able (the now vacant tentpole of this blog for two years), and I’ve been recording notes and elements for other projects (as I’m wont to do), but this past month has been one of the busiest ever let alone since I’ve moved to Los Angeles. I’m living my dream, but if I’m not too careful, I’ll tumble backward into someone else’s.
With four days left (including Wednesday), I found out new things about me and the stupefied healthcare providers that currently “support” me.
My “Crohn’s” cramps came back with a vengeance this week, and I had to get to the bottom of them to move forward. Okay, so maybe I’ve been eating a lot more potatoes and watermelon at work (the latter being a running gag with the Production Staff), and after my antibiotics, I could see myself potentially feeding the Candida overgrowth. I didn’t have this much watermelon at my disposal during January’s Whole30 run.
I took the day off from “Kidding” to recover from my cramps, and attempted a doctor’s appointment. When I called at 9:00 AM, I was notified of the once impossible-to-schedule doctor’s office’s amendment to their stuffed system; replaced with a walk-in option from 9-11 AM. I drove over by 9:15, and waited until 10 AM for the doctor to show up.