Deadlines

I have deadlines. I like deadlines.

There's nothing quite like the overwhelming feeling of panic to help your breakfast make a sudden, unexpected return mid morning. The terror floods over you, slapping you in the face, poking you in the eyes and tweaking your nipples two hours before you have to email your script. Then you suddenly realise you're shit, your script's shit and most importantly someone is about to find out you're a hopeless fraud.

Overdosed on coffee you sit in front of the screen your balls sweating (or have you just wet yourself?), your heart pounding (too much coffee or the early signs of a heart attack?), stomach churning (watch out for breakfast) and your mouth dry (drink more coffee). This script is utter bollocks, the worst thing you've ever written, but it has to do because now you've only got an hour.

AN HOUR!!!!!

You type furiously changing as much as you can in the little time you have left. Maybe you can rescue this, make yourself look at least semi-professional? You probably can't! You're gonna fail miserably. You pathetic twunt!

HALF AN HOUR LEFT!!!!!! Oh fiddly funk buckets....where is the time going? Now you're typing furiously, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. There's an excruciating pain in your neck from sitting tensed up, but you can't worry about that now, because you've only got ten minutes.... OH SWEET BABY POTATOES!!!!!

Your howls of desperation have worried the neighbours, who are now enquiring through your letterbox if you're OK and if you need an ambulance, but it doesn't matter now, because there is no time left.

You press send....and wait for the inevitable, the "you really are the worst writer on the planet", response you know is coming. Your career is over, you sad sack of hamster pooh.

The email is here. You can't open it, dare not open it, but you have to....you open it and....no, that can't be right, they actually like it....they really like it....THE FOOLS!!!

And breathe!

By crikey I LOVE deadlines.