You know how you hear many a lottery winner state that, despite their sudden financial windfall, they have no plans to quit their jobs? Well, hopefully they’re true to their word because studies reveal that 70% of lottery winners blow through their winnings in just a few years. But that’s beside the point. Of greater interest to me is the prospect that someone who has attained sudden financial freedom would, nevertheless, choose to continue working. Why? So that they can be a contributing member to society? In order to maintain purpose? To score an invite to the company Christmas party so that they can check out Doris from accounting’s annual eggnog-fueled strip tease? Maybe all of the aforementioned? Maybe none of the aforementioned? Maybe it’s just something to say at the time like “Sure, I’d love to have dinner with you!” or “You should call me whenever you’re in town!”, an off-the-cuff declaration that no one in their right mind would ever hold you to.
I wonder about this because this morning, while I was talking to my writing partner Paul, he reminded me that we would be heading back to the office on Monday. It may surprise you to learn that my response was not “Oh, it’ll be great to see the old gang again! I wonder if Carl got a new haircut?” or “Thank God! I’ve been going stir-crazy being at home for the past two weeks!” but rather “So soon?” as though this unforeseen demand on my schedule would somehow hamper a crucial project I had in the works (Although at the time – in the interest of full disclosure – I was standing in my socks and fleece pants in my garden striving to differentiate between the scents of three types of thyme and trying to figure out why they called it lemon basil when it smelled nothing like lemon and really smelled more like marijuana.) Yep, crazy as it sounds, three and a half weeks into my four week hiatus and I’m in no hurry to get back at it even though, in truth, I have been “back at it”, working on the script for episode #20 since my return from Montreal. Maybe my attitude would be different if it was three months, say, or six months, or perhaps two years spent in the isolated darkness of my home theater room freelancing via email, eating Chinese take-out, and watching my entire collection of anime including Ninja Cadets and Elf Princess Rane. Maybe. And then again, maybe not.
Prior to signing on with the Stargate franchise, I spent several years freelancing from home. I’d settled into a nice comfortable routine although there were, admittedly times when I would miss the social interaction that comes with a group story meeting or a good old-fashioned face to face script harangue. I wonder now if, given the choice and all things being equal, I could go back to a more laidback home office life.
Of course, given the uncertain nature of show business, there’s a good chance that, somewhere down the line, I won’t have a choice and may well find myself sitting at home in my socks and fleece pants, working away on my freelance scripts, secretly missing the on-set action, the camaraderie, and Carl’s snazzy post-hiatus haircuts.
Well, that’s it for now. I’m all by my lonesome tonight as my wife went to a “women only” beachside get-together that sounded suspiciously like a Wiccan gathering. I’m off to watch The Orphanage.
Today = video of some early gate tests.