I don’t know about you, but I am very grateful for the extra hour today. Because yesterday, despite every flesh-and-boney fiber of my 40 year old being telling me “you’ll be exhausted,” I committed to writing for a sketch comedy show produced in one day. From writing to rehearsing, to prop making to staging, it’s all created in a single day.
Saturday, November 4th, 2023
7:30am Wake up. Spend 45-ish minutes (plus a few hours the night before) ruminating over the 5 pitches I had to bring in. One is just a character called “Blentil Fudgeputt” who has "purse turkey.”
8:15am Try to poop. Give up, relegating myself to a hold-it-in day. Dread said day. Shower.
8:45am Grab the Gingerbread Latte I have been craving since going to bed the previous night. Drive from Long Beach to Hollywood.
10am Pitch meeting with the writers and directors. My pitches land well, with the exception of Blentil. She’s misunderstood (and maybe under developed).
12:02pm Excuse myself to pee. Fart whilst in the bathroom. Tell myself a fart is equally satisfying as a solid BM. Return to the meeting in full denial and mild discomfort.
12:50pm Start writing my first of two pitches into full sketches. This one’s titled “Mammogram Doctors Get Retired.”
1:45pm Realize I need to eat something, knowing I don’t have intestinal space for it. Eat a slice of pizza provided by the directors while one of them reads my sketch. Get laptop keyboard greasy.
2:30pm Submit final version of first sketch. Start second sketch, a game show-format titled “Who Died?”
3:45pm Panic about having 15 minutes left to finish my second sketch. Director announces we have until 4:30pm. Unclench my butthole. Immediately regret unclenching. Reclench.
4:30pm Bleary eyed and tightly hunched from concentrated writing for hours, I meet the actors who will be performing my unhinged comedy. Feel nervous.
5:25pm Laugh at my own jokes during the actors’ readthrough of my sketches. Everyone else laughs, too.
6:25pm Get director’s notes on my sketch (“We have no notes”). Feel smug. Submit my tech script for the show.
7pm Pete orders burritos while I’m enroute back to Long Beach. Suddenly remember I’ll get to poop soon. Feel relieved, mentally. The physical relief will have to wait.
7:58pm Arrive home to a sweet gesture and a California burrito. Forget I have to poop.
8:30pm Watch my dream job on TV. Design a “Mamm-O-Gram” Machine using sharpies and a piece of posterboard.
9:30pm Panic because I don’t have a drop cloth for the sketch. Make Pete leave the house IMMEDIATELY for Home Depot.
9:54pm Jog into Home Depot 6 minutes before closing, to find the drop cloths are clear. Consider spending $40 on a canvas drop cloth, for a 4-5 minute sketch.
9:59pm Remember we have a blanket in the car. No drop cloth necessary!
10:01pm REMEMBER I DIDN’T POOP AT HOME. Am running on adrenaline.
10:10pm Caffeinate at my favorite coffee shop before driving to UCB. Am now running on Green Tea lemonade and adrenaline
11pm Apologetically tell Pete the show starts at 11:59pm, not 11pm. Feel guilty.
11:02pm Sit around talking to the writers during rehearsal, while the actors try to remember lines I wrote mere hours ago.
11:55pm Make sure the actors have everything they need. Sit with Pete in the middle, front of the audience. Realize that might make the actors nervous?! Then realize they are pros and I am an excellent audience member. Get excited.
Sunday, November 5th 2023
12:02am Show starts. I reach out for Pete’s knee - it’s naked (he’s wearing shorts). Try to tell him I wasn’t expecting his leg to be naked. Music is too loud, he can’t hear me.
12:23am My sketch gets a lot of laughs.
1:01am Show ends. I congratulate the actors.
1:35am Arrive home, too tired to poop (or even remember I have to). Eat some fiber gummies for a satisfying BM in the AM. Also eat the remainder of the Haagen Dazs Chocolate ice cream.
2:00am/1:00am Pete and I watch the clock go from 2am to 1am. Decide it’s better than NYE and we should make this a holiday.
1:36am Time traveling is exhausting. Go to bed.
I looked forward to sleeping in, but woke up at 8:30am on the dot, after the condensation in my CPAP mask rained into my nose and nearly drown me. My first feeling was obviously, terror, quickly followed by elation: it was once again morning, and thus an appropriate time for another Gingerbread Latte.
I know you fervently read through Saturday’s/Sunday’s events, scanning for the time I was able to poop, looking back again when you couldn’t find it. I didn’t poop yesterday. But I did poop today. And look, I don’t normally talk to Pete about my daily constitution (it’s very not sexy) - - I don’t normally talk to the internet about my daily constitution - - but today, I had to immediately tell him how proud I was of myself. It was a good one. Today, and yesterday.
Until next time!
xo Nicole
P.S. Upon reading this post for feedback, Pete had this to say: “Hahaha….no notes! I think you invented a new format, the bm thriller/memoir.” I am a proud woman.
That was a roller coaster and I loved every moment of it!
I am here for the bm thriller memoir genre! That was a thrill ride from top to...well, you know. So many things to be proud of here, but the fact that you pooped in safety, was number 1. Or should that be... sorry, I'll let myself out....