Friday, August 23, 2013

Day 19 of 365: Life as a Sitcom

A lot of people say their lives could be a TV show.  If there is anything shows like Wicked Single (it was set in Boston; of course I watched it) taught us, it's usually a lot more intricate than that.  In this case, that hating your job, getting drunk a lot, and getting into lots of petty fights and sloppy hook-ups doesn't necessarily make even a good cable television reality show.

But I'd like to think that at least some of my exploits and adventures would make a decent show or two.  Maybe a show that is shown exclusively on Netflix or Hulu, but a show all the same.  Aging model finds life after teaching, all while attempting to establish herself as a writer and bantering with her absurdly witty husband (and that's just the God's honest truth.  If I've improved at all as a comedic writer, it's because of my constant back-and-forth with my husband).  Actually sounds like the start of an ABC Family hour-long drama.  Damning praise if there were ever one, but let's move on.

In today's episode, the aging model deals with painters who are completely redoing the first floor in a house that she just bought out in the country.  They delay the project a solid three days, only to completely trip up on the colors.   And I don't mean the foyer is off-white when it should be beige.  I mean the color is blue.  Vibrant blue.  And the kitchen is yellow.  And the den is the color meant for the foyer.  And the painter left behind his radio, which appears to be older than myself.

Not enough to base an entire episode on (well, perhaps,  given what constitutes "plot" in shows these days), but an interesting obstacle for a set of main characters in a group, a la Friends or How I Met Your Mother.

The main difference, however,  is my stress and frustrations are not comedic.  I'm frustrated that all the projects we need to get done in time for the movers (but needs to wait until after the painters) are on indefinite hold.  I'm stressed about the two most major projects (painting and moving) are slowly bleeding into one another.  The emails sent back and forth are not witty or entertaining, but a sign of a potentially long road ahead.

All of this would be terrible for a show.  But that's real life.  Sometimes you have to supply your own laugh track.

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