Weird...

Good morning sunshine! Actually, more like, good morning "stinkin' dead heat". Ugh.

Our bedroom is just too hot, even with two fans blowing. Yes, we do have A/C, but it's on the other side of the apartment and it seems the wind is directionally-challenged. It really has a hard time blowing itself around that corner, even with the assistance of strategically placed fans. So to escape the heat, this morning I lumbered out to the living room and decided that I might as well check my email n' get my day started.

This is gonna have to be a real heads-down kind of day. I've got a bunch of contract work I want to wrap up, because I'm really not sure what the next couple of weeks will bring. I know we're going to be doing script rewrites, and I'd kinda like to put all my focus into that for the time being instead of worrying about juggling both rewrites and contract work.

So anyway, I checked my email, and what do I find? Three work-related emails - one of them a recalled message - from this company I applied to back in April.

To bring you up to speed... when I foresaw that our funding was going to run out, I quickly applied for a job with this local web company. I had checked them out in the past, and they seemed really into the environment n' stuff, and I loved that about them. They're even building a new totally green office, with a garden n' everything. Cool, huh?

Anyhoo, I somehow landed an interview with them, even though I completely screwed up in the preliminary testing -- which, I gotta say, is total b.s. As if anyone can do that much work in under an hour. I know the company wants to see what you're capable of, but seriously, it's unrealistic.

So yeah, for some reason even though I blew it and managed to make myself look completely incompetent, they still wanted to have an interview avec moi. The interview went well, but one of the questions was, "If you get a chance to turn your script into a movie, will you leave our company?"

Hmm... that's not really a question that most interview practice modules prepare you for. How the heck do you answer that?

It killed me, but I lied -- well, kinda. I danced around the answer for a while as best I could and said, "I don't think our script will ever get turned into a movie. It's a pipe dream. It's an extreme long shot that it's ever gonna happen."

"Yeah, but what if it does..." they pushed (about three more times.)

Gawd. It was brutal. I hated lying. I really did believe that things would eventually come together for us, because if *we* didn't believe it - then who would? I hated selling my soul like that. It made me feel so yucky. I totally felt like I was sending the wrong energy out into the universe by saying aloud that "It will never happen." Besides, not only was I not being fair to myself, but I wasn't be fair to them, nor any other candidate for the job.

I made a decision that very moment that I would not accept the position if they offered it to me. I also decided that I was not going to bother looking for another full time job. I would settle with contract work until everything came together with the script.

The company contacted me shortly thereafter, saying that they felt I would be bored with the position I applied for, but that they really loved me and wanted to create a more interesting writing position for me. It was flattering, but I was upfront with them and expressed my concerns. I can't commit to full time. I have to believe in this script and our potential to get it made. I'll do contract work for them, but that's it.

Unfortunately, after the boss-lady looked into it, she decided that a contract position would not be feasible for them. They really wanted me full time, in the office every day.

That was the last I heard from them for about two months. In the meantime, I got exactly what I wished for -- I was suddenly loaded up with a whack of contract work from my old employer. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. The workload was definitely enough to help keep us afloat for a good while longer.

But then a few weeks ago, the owner for the other company contacted me again. "Has anyone snatched you up yet? We have a job for you!"

"Full time or contract?" I asked.

"Full time."

I politely declined. I'm too busy with other contract work right now, and again, I'm not looking to work full time for anyone.

She told me to let them know if/when I change my mind.

The very next week, everything magically fell into place - we learned that we had a producer on board and would be going into development by August. I was so glad that I didn't jump at that full time position, because it really wouldn't have been fair to them. The ultimate "what if" had happened, and I would've quit only a month after being hired.

So, like I was saying, this is what is odd about those emails this morning... They were emailing me some work, but then tried recalling the message a few minutes later.

Do you think they're still waiting for me to change my mind or somethin'? I'd assume that they just accidentally entered my email when they clicked "m", but the thing is, they send me a couple emails, so it seems strange to make the same mistake twice in a row.

Anyhow, since they tried recalling one of them, I'm just gonna ignore the message and pretend that it never happened.

Still, it's kinda weird though, isn't it?