Last night I saw Overnight , the documentary about Troy Duffy (writer/director of The Boondock Saints). In a nutshell, his story went like this: Bartender sells script to Miramax for huge money, gets to direct script with full casting approval and final cut, gets his band signed to do the soundtrack, then manages to piss off Miramax enough to kill the whole deal.
Anyway, after seeing a movie like that it's hard to resist pondering the whole nature of success. Here's what I came up with.
No matter how successful I become...
1. I'll still start books and not finish them.
2. I'll still have trouble sleeping some nights and then, the next day, be really exhausted by the early afternoon.
3. I'll still order things at restaurants that sound good but end up being disappointing.
4. I'll still eagerly anticipate certain movies months -- even years -- before they come out, only to find out that they suck.
5. I'll still do that weird thing where I'm waiting to use a single-person public restroom and try to open the door but find that it's locked and then walk far away so when the person comes out he doesn't know I was the one who tried to bust in on him.
6. I'll still get slightly depressed when a season of one of my favorite shows is over (especially the cable shows, where you have to wait 6 months to a year for the next season).
7. I'll still eat two Krispy Kreme donuts and then wish I'd only eaten one.
8. I'll still get paper cuts.
9. I'll still go outside in clothes inappropriate to the weather but not feel like going back inside to change once I realize what the actual temperature is.
10. I'll still call people and get their voicemail.
11. I'll still get colds, sore throats, headaches, and occasional indigestion.
12. I'll still get songs stuck in my head.
13. I'll still be talking to someone and not understand what they're saying and just nod because I've already asked them to repeat themselves twice.
14. I'll still forget where I put things.
15. I'll still wake up in the middle of the night and have to pee but really not want to get out of bed and just lie there for a few minutes trying to will myself back to sleep.
16. I'll still be allergic to cats.
17. I'll still obsess retroactively about the impression I make on girls.
18. I'll still write things down and then not be able to read my own writing.
19. I'll still forget people's names and be embarrassed when they remember mine.
20. I'll still lose my train of thought.
So, really, what's the point?