...whoever the hell SHE is.
Never mind that the deal on one of my television projects has reached Critical Mass, and there's only ONE POINT that can break the deal, and the Big Guns have been called in to get this thing done -- one way or the other. It's like watching two Warner Brothers cartoon bulls in the big face-off, smoke snorting from their outsized, be-ringed nostrils, eyes narrowed and bloodshot, stomping their hooves in the ground as they prepare to charge.
And here am I, frozen on the sidelines, knees knocking and fingers crossed, future as a producer hanging in the balance, wondering what it might be like to make venti lattes as a Starbucks barista in, say, beautiful Vancouver.
"...would you like something to eat with that?"
Perhaps the cooler weather will allow for cooler heads. We all know those always prevail.
Breathe, dammit.
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