The day It happened

It came.

Later than I thought it would. This time it took eight months. The part where I don't give a crap what we put on screen. Because really.

The previous time it took three weeks.

Is all this fighting worth it? The walking on egg shells everyday. The nasty comments. The disrespect that I'm treated with. The sighs and the rolled eyes. The talking behind everyones back.

This is TV. Not brain surgery. No-one is going to die. The worst that can happen is that we put black on air. That's bad. But it won't happen here.

We are trying to tell a story. A story we each interpret in our own way. An entertaining story. Soapies are made as entertainment, to create an escape for viewers everyday life. It shouldn't be this hard.

Bury the hatched. Forget your own stubbornness. Because really.

I think about it. I ask for costing. I do what I can to minimise the risk. Maximize the output. Maximize storytelling and creativity. All that, while fitting it into a budget the size of an espresso cup.

By the time I walk into your office, I've persuaded. I've made my case. I asked. I negotiated.

The hard face and the discouragement gets it to me every time.

I shouldn't be this difficult. Should it?