Charlie Kaufman: To begin... To begin... How to start? I'm hungry. I should get coffee. Coffee would help me think. Maybe I should write something first, then reward myself with coffee. Coffee and a muffin. So I need to establish the themes. Maybe a banana nut. That's a good muffin. Okay, write for an hour…no, half an hour….then coffee and a muffin.
Charlie Kaufman: Do I have an original thought in my head? My bald head. Life is short. I need to make the most of it. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I'm a walking cliché. I really need to go to the doctor and have my leg checked. There's something wrong. A bump. If I stop putting things off I would be happier. All I do is sit on my fat ass. If my ass wasn't fat I would be happier. I wouldn't have to wear these shirts with the tails out all the time. Like that's fooling anyone. Fat ass. I should start jogging again. Five miles a day. Really do it this time. Maybe rock climbing. I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a girlfriend. I need to read more and prove myself. What if I learned Russian or something, or took up an instrument. I could speak Chinese. I'd be the screenwriter who speaks Chinese and plays the oboe. That would be cool.
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(Tasha at gym, putting on iPod and heading upstairs to treadmill)
Tasha: Okay, you know the rules, no music until you’re actually running. Hold it, hooooold it…….(gets on treadmill)….does warming up count? Yes.
T: (Audioslave) Think I heard this song on Grey’s Anatomy once. Maybe not. I wonder if they’re actually killing off Meredith Grey. Duh, on a show called Grey’s Anatomy? Don’t think so. Okay, can drink now, only every……10 minutes. No, 5.
T: “Let’s Get it Started.” Ah, my theme song for IMMOO. Hope I’m not too sick of it by then. (gazing out window) Man, those cars out there are dirty – glad I got mine washed today. I’ll probably get locked inside later when the doors freeze shut. At least people won’t keep brushing my ass – “oh, you must have gotten salt on you getting out of the car.”
T: Hmm.
T: Wonder how long it’ll take to get dirty again.
……
T: Ah, that Rockefeller song. I hope this isn’t the 15-minute version. Can have a drink after this song……..come on…..okay, what the hell are you people singing anyway? Try English next time.
T: Great, the remix version. Taxi! I’ll forward to the next song just this once. Chili Peppers, fine. Hey, is my shoelace untied? What the……ack! Crap, I almost clotheslined myself on my iPod headphone cord. Great, that would have been juuust perfect. Need water……3 minutes to go, shit.
…………
T: Okay, almost at 45 minutes….that’s practically 60, might as well go an hour. Nice even number. Sounds like I actually did something. The Fray. Cool tune. Hey, I’m kinda getting my second wind here. Feels like I could actually run forever.
Stupid Tasha: Yay! Keep running! Hour and a half!
T: Hmm….NO, none of that. Then tomorrow I’ll have shin splints. Aching feet. Gout. Be sensible for once.
Stupid Tasha (sulking): You suck.
T: Damn, my feet hurt again. What’s with these stupid socks – how come all of them are so scratchy on my delicate feet? Can’t they make soft, comfy ones? Like, say, out of…..cashmere? Yeah, that’s it. Cashmere. I don’t want to lose any toenails – I HAVE to wear all my strappy sandals this summer. How can I wear cute sundresses without espadrilles and the like? Impossible.
T: You know, maybe the Princess nickname wasn’t ironic after all. Thanks Kev. No wonder you didn’t respond when I asked about it. “Oh, err, my internets has been down. Yeah, that’s the ticket, no internets. I can’t even get onto The Google. It’s awful! I’m beside myself!” Right.
T: Starrfadu – cool song by them, though kind of slow. Maybe if I run double time? Okay, why don't I just put a stick in my eye instead. Heart rate at 176, wonder if that's normal. That would suck if my heart exploded.
T: Okay, 58 minutes, can I cooldown the last 2? No, that’s pathetic. At least run the whole hour, lazyass. Wonder if anyone would notice if I had a heart attack. Probably not. These are students; they live permanently in SelfAbsorptionLand. Get real.
Stupid Tasha: Hey! You’re at 5.5, at least run 6 miles!
T: ……ohhhh-kay. Sure. 6 it is.
Stupid Tasha: Weeeeeeeeee!
T: Damn, now I have to keep going. This is the longest half mile in creation. And so much for second wind. Kind of tired. 3 Days Grace tune on – can’t stop during this song, that would be lame. Feet hurt, feet hurt, feet hurt. Stupid socks.
T: 6 miles, ohmygod, done. Whew! Let’s see, that means for IMMOO, I just have to do that…….times…………4+.
T: Shit.
T: Shit.
T: Shit.
