voiceover

So, I tried. I really did. I meant to write a post today on the steps I’m taking on my glory filled path to supreme organization and voiceover domination. But I couldn’t. Just couldn’t control the thoughts.

My goal, as much as I ever have one, was to break down all of the things I wanted to achieve into baby steps. I’m thinking that if I take the end results I wish to have and back them out, I’ll be able to plot the steps I need to take in order to achieve them.

And cluster the tasks. I’m big on this idea. If I can stack all of the related tasks into one slightly larger task, then I can turn those stacks/piles/heaps into routines. I need me some routines. Routines are like having an autopilot switch. You can just turn that routine on and off you go until it’s complete.

This, loose as it is, was my plan for today. Collect the data, turn it into routines, get busy.

Then this happened. I started making lists. Which went off the rails fast. In the absence of having anything constructive rattling around in my head, I’ve decided to just share my lists with you so that you can feel some sympathy for my condition.

And here they are, in their unedited glory:

These are the questions I’m grappling with today:

– What do I need to do in studio?
– What do I need to do inside of the house?
– Why won’t Jake eat breakfast?
– How do I get cast as an animated celebrity’s talking va-ja-jay on an Adult Swim cartoon?
– Is it strange that being a talking vagina is my ultimate work ambition?
– Who cares if it’s strange?
– These are not helpful questions.
– Ah, fuck it. Let’s move onto the things that keep me from working:

Things that keep me from working:

– I have a four-year-old
– I’m lazy
– My four-year-old is a boy
– We have two other businesses that require my attention to some degree every day
– Laundry
– Boy children are nut burgers
– Dishes
– Dog hair retrieval
– Legos
– Candy Crush
– Donald FUCKING Trump
– Laundry
– Why is my son inside the washing machine?
– Does listening to Alice in Chains cause me to use physically menacing terms like “wrestling” and “grappling?” Would I write “hugging” and “smoochy-pants” if I were listening to the B52’s?
– I wonder where Denise is these days. You could always tell what music she’d been listening to by her makeup. B52’s meant purple and pink dots, silver eyeliner. Black lipstick was a sign of Bauhaus. I miss Denise.
– Imma re-read that meditation book.
– Meditation is hard. Sitting still is hard. So’s the floor. I need more comfortable flip flops.
– Would it be reasonable to have a cigarette now?
– Fuck reasonable.
– I do need more tea and tea is in the same general vicinity as the smoking porch.
– Sure is hot outside though.
– And if I get near the porch, I will also be near the laundry, which means, oh hell, I still have more laundry to do.
– And I can’t forget to go to the store – gotta get pizza and a movie for tonight.
– Jake wants to see Lego Batman. It’ll be great. Great. Whoop.
– Oh god, another Trump tweet.
– Shit’s like Pavlov’s dogs – Trump tweets, I twitch.
– I wonder if there’s a class action suit against Trump yet for all of the emotional distress he’s causing. I’m in if they file one. I have receipts.
– “Original Sin” is a really great INXS song.
– Yes, definitely going to go smoke.
– I don’t know why Google chose to combine Alice in Chains and INXS greatest hits into one playlist but it’s working.
– Google does know everything.
– Google knows EVERYTHING.
– I should worry a bit more about that stuff.
– Let me just check with Alexa.
– Snort. See what I did?
– Then again, not so funny. I say a lot of inappropriate things. And I sing all the time. If someone is listening I am profoundly embarrassed about the singing.
– Man. Now I’m paranoid.
– Maybe I should just go to the store.
– I’ll do that. Go to the store. Buy things.
– Shouldn’t I be working? This is not working. This is vomiting words.
– Don’t pressure yourself so much. Word vomit was hugely successful for Kerouac.
– Oh fer fucks sake – another Trump tweet? I can’t stand it.
– Crap, Celia said not to get political in these things. But, but, but . . .
– She’s right.
– But.
– Still right.
– Fine. No politics.
– Come on now. Focus. Make one tiny plan out of all of this. Surely we can come up with one tiny baby step toward world domination.
– By the way, when I am in charge of the world, people who don’t put away their shopping carts in the parking lot corrals will have their heads lopped off immediately.
– Yes, I know that Karyn doesn’t always put her cart away but I do love her immensely and so will regret lopping off her head.
– Probably shouldn’t threaten to lop off your best friend’s head.
– True, but she should probably put her cart back and avoid the lopping.
– You know what else is keeping me from working?
– Lists.
– Dammit.

Clearly, there’s a problem in Lyssa Land. More than one, in fact. But the most pressing one seems to be figuring out how to manage all of the things that need to get done while at the same time promote and grow my business.

On my plate for just this week: I’ve got to do a side gig appearance that will take me out of the house for an entire day. It includes driving to goddamned, freaking Houston in a car with no A/C during June. It’s 51 miles from my door to the door of the side gig. It takes 2 hours minimum each way. Because fucking Houston.

I’m going to Vegas for a voiceover conference on Friday so I’ve got to get ready for that. And I’ve got a second round of the side gig to do the day after I get back from the conference. So I’ll have to prepare for that too.

My husband has, in his typical moment of panic, invited my in-laws down to visit so that he will have back up for the days when I’m not here. This is very helpful for him. Not so much for me. Because now, I have to have the house presentable for in-law visit in addition to gigging, packing and growing my business.

And, of course, there’s the housework. I can give some of the housework things to my husband to do although that comes with a time price too as I have to explain many of the housework details to him. He has a learning disability that prevents him from folding towels correctly. It’s very sad and there does not appear to be any successful treatment available. Trust me, I’ve tried everything.

Don’t think he can take over laundry. He hasn’t been allowed to laundry unsupervised since the Sweater Incident of 1996. So I’m probably still stuck with that. For the record, I do laundry every single fucking day. In fact, this morning I started my first load of laundry at 6 am. Why do I do so much laundry? Because I have a husband and a son and they both change clothes roughly 14 times a day. And use a lot of towels. Towels that no one else can fold properly.

My husband can help with the feeding the family part if I give him very specific instructions. I can give him a list of things to buy. I’ll still be doing the cooking unless the list features sausage. My husband is a specialty chef. His culinary strengths lie in the “sausage and things with sausage in them” arena. He can also cook the hell out of a frozen pizza. It’s a gift.

I’m going to have to risk him feeding the entire family while I’m in Vegas. The last time I was away, I called home to check and asked my son what he had for dinner. My son – who is four – said, “Pickles.” My husband piped up with, “And olives!” so I would know that it was a balanced meal. It is a good thing that my in-laws will be here because they know how to eat.

But no worries, I’ll be in Vegas. With my bestie. And we will eat dinners that include much, much more than pickles and olives. Since it’s a voice actor conference, I’ll be able to do auditions and smaller voice jobs while I’m there. Three cheers for World Voices and WoVoCon for having booth space on site.

Might even be able to do a little marketing while I’m at the conference. Should be able to record a new imaging demo as well. So that’s going to be a productive weekend. With drinking. And when I get back, it will be the beginning of a whole new ballgame around here in terms of organization.

Right after I finish refolding the towels.

Ok, this focus thing is really hey lookit the butterfly

Doing It All