I’m not a huge Pink fan, not since one of my best mates Tony and I used to drive around back in ’99 listening to a There You Go cassette-single in my ’87 Volkswagon Rabbit drop top over and over singing as loud as our lungs would let us after a few Garcia Vegas.Last night was Pink night on Australian Idol (someone please get Ricky Lee a stylist)… and this lyric has been in my head ever since. Let me tell you ’bout hard work.
I promised no more sooky blogs yesterday because I’m totally not usually so boo-hoo, I swear! However… twenty-eight hours to take off, I’d like to get into a brief synopsis of the ‘plan’. This way we’re all on the same page and I can say things like ‘Dude I am so prepared for this, haven’t you read my plan?’
I think I need an agent, I’ve never had one and don’t really know how it works. But if I had one I could say things like ‘Discus it with my agent,’ which immediately makes me sound more important.
I need to figure out what to write, I’ve noticed a lot of writers can say things like ‘I’m a poet, I’m a novelist, I’m a short story writer…’ etc. I write everything. This sounds like a good thing but I reckon it might work against me.
Still, my writing plan that I’m going to stick to when I reach Connecticut (ooooh so close to NYC!) is to put time each day toward a few different projects, that way if I can find someone to listen to my ‘No really I swear I can write anything … ummm … hire me?’ maybe I’ll have better odds?
Well, I suppose all there is to do at this point is embrace my new Australian dialect and throw in a ‘No worries mate!’ For sure!
No job … not much of a plan … only a few more hours to figure it out … No worries…