Cause that's how I roll - on the edge.
That was a monster of an application package, surely bigger than anything else I've ever submitted for anything.
- 1 spec script - Mad Men
- 1 original one-hour drama pilot
- my CV
- a one-page Letter of Intent
- a synopsis of my Mad Men spec, as well as a synopsis of the next spec I want to write
- a synopsis of my pilot as well as synopses of two more pilots I want to write
- a top 10 list of my all-time favourite shows
Then while I was printing the triplicate copies of my scripts (you had to hand in 3 identical packages) out at 4pm, I found that somehow the printer wasn't set to "collate". I must admit, though I consider myself as the keeper of an above-average vocabulary, I didn't actually know the definition of that word. I certainly know it now.
col·late (k-lt, klt, klt)tr.v. col·lat·ed, col·lat·ing, col·lates
I printed out 3 copies of 2 60-page scripts, but somehow I had only two piles. Each pile was ordered like so: Page 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3 ... and so on, for 360 pages. It was now 4:10, and I knew it would take me at least 15 minutes to drive to the CFC. So I sorted them all out and hopefully I didn't mix the pages up; I didn't have time to go through each script page by page to make sure.
Ordered, bound and clipped, I set out for the CFC. Traffic is clear, until Lawrence and Bayview. At 4:45 I'm stuck in traffic, a 5 minute walk away from the CFC. At 4:50 I'm freaking the fuck out. At 4:55 I'm considering just driving off the bridge and making it all go away. Then traffic starts to move, I almost get in several accidents, and when I finally find the CFC laneway, I park the car and run/jog to the door, getting inside at 4:59pm.
And now I wait.