Wake up Call

I set 5 alarms every day before I go to bed. I used to always use Siri to set these alarms but it seems that Siri has not endured a year of blackouts as well as I have. Just as I wake up slightly more damaged, emotionally and physically every Monday morning, my iPhone just looks and acts a little shittier. I have taken this on as a personification of my lifestyle, and whereas my physical wear and tear is largely internalized, it seems that my iPhone is like my Dorian Grey mirror. Another crack in the glass every time I do blow off a prostitute's tits.

But anyway, these alarms I set, are with the most ambitious of plans. Because it's easy to plan to attack the future when you're playing video games at 4am on a school night. "Oh sure I was a piece of shit tonight, but TOMORROW, just wait, I'm going to be a star.

FIRST ALARM ~ 3 hours before I need to be at work.
The first alarm or the "Seize the day alarm" if you will usually falls between 5 and 7 in the morning. What I anticipate doing if I wake up for this alarm is typically starting things off with a morning jog. Maybe I stroll down to Abbot Kinney and order a proper breakfast while reading a morning paper. I'll take my iPad, read a script, perhaps do a little work on my own spec. I can go on a bike ride around the neighborhood and marvel at the beauty of Los Angeles. By the time I leave for work and arrive early I have time to go next door for a pumpkin spice latte. I am ready to conquer the shit out of this day.
But the reality is...ya fucking right. I've done this maybe once. In sounds great in theory but really, another hour of sleep sounds much better.

SECOND ALARM ~ 2 hours before work
The second alarm is, ok I'm going to get up and do some shit around the house. Watch last night's episode of the Daily Show, do some laundry, clean the apartment. Basically this is the alarm of compromise. Why do my dirty dishes when I'm stoned laying down on the couch watching reruns of the League when I can get up and clean the apartment in the morning when I'm well rested?
Besides, I was having a dream and in it my life was a lot more exciting than the reality I live in. SNOOZE.

THIRD ALARM ~ 75 minutes before work
Every day at around noon when I'm ingesting my 7th slice of pizza, I tell myself "It's ok, I'm not going to get fat, I'll go to the gym after work." But then when I get home I am tired as shit or ANYTHING better comes along and I'm like fuck that, I'm going to get drunk. I'll go work out in the morning. To my credit, about 10% of the time I actually trudge to the gym and do 15 minutes of lifting (biceps, triceps, chest) and leave. But you better believe I tell everyone that will listen. OH I WENT TO THE GYM TODAY. Because that's why I do it. So I can tell people I did it, and so I feel better about myself. My current lifestyle is unsustainable. It works only because I'm young. I'm probably 4 years away from having a body mass index in the high 40's...especially because most mornings I say "fuck the gym, I'll go tomorrow."

FOURTH ALARM ~ 50 minutes before work
This is the alarm that allows me time to take a 6 minute shower (10 if I choose to beat off) get dressed, and maybe check my email before sprinting out the door. I have a reasonable chance of making it in on time if there is no traffic and some fucktard didn't cause a 14 person pile up whilst texting and driving. (Note: there is always traffic and a 14 car pile-up) The shower is always a depressing shower, I sit there and think about all the cool shit I DIDN'T do that morning so I could get like 1 more hour of sleep. I don't even finish half of my attempted masturbatory sessions because I'm so sad. And the thing is I'm still tired as shit. When you're laying in bed, you think that last hour matters, but waking up just straight up sucks. No matter when. Even dragging myself out of bed at 2pm on Sunday is sometimes difficult. I'm just not a morning person.

FIFTH ALARM ~ 30 minutes before work
This is definitely the OH SHIT alarm. The last line of defense. This involves me jumping out of bed, no shower, wear what I wore yesterday, spray some cologne and go. I have precisely 90 seconds to get in my car and be driving before I enter the totally fucked zone. It takes me about 40 minutes to get to work, but people usually don't say anything until I'm more than 10 minutes late.

The thing about the 5th alarm is often times I'm in traffic, so I have this system where I take screenshots of my phone to show horrible accidents on google maps to prove that there is NO WAY it's my fault that I'm late.

And I know what you're thinking, what if you're just running really late and there is no bad traffic with which to screenshot and send to supervisor? I thought of that! So I have recently started just screenshotting bad traffic at all times and stashing them for emergencies. A car exploded 2 weeks ago on the 101, I was at home but I heard about it on the news, so I found that section of freeway and took a picture, saving it for later. There was a wildfire earlier this year that completely closed the freeway, I've got that ace in the hole waiting too. Because if you're going to lie, you have to just fully commit to that story and roll with it.

So ya, what's the takeaway from this? That I am a piece of shit? Probably. But upon further review it is just an indictment on my motivation.

All these articles have been floating around the internet lately about why gen Y is as a whole such a whiny little bitch. The thesis statement is that we are unhappy because we were spoon fed all this bullshit growing up about how we were so special and how great our life was going to be...and it hasn't worked out necessarily the way we had planned, leaving us all a tad unfulfilled.

I was told that I would have wealth and happiness beyond my wildest dreams, yet I'm still flying Spirit Airlines back to Chicago for a wedding.

However, along the way, I experienced a paradigm shift in my point of view. Whereas when I was 22 I expected everything was going to be great because I was David Moeller and everyone loves me, the cocky confidence and peachy optimism eroded as I grew older. Now I kind of just expect things to suck. I am 26 and jaded, reality won...my flame...extinguished.

But recently something strange happened. I realized just how shitty everyone else's life was as well.

When you live in LA, you get used to disappointment, it happens every day. Older people dehumanize you as you climb the corporate ladder but it stings worse because you know what it's like on top. That may sound childish but when you walk on water throughout your college career and then a bunch of people in middle management constantly knock you down it can be demoralizing.

But...just like college, high school, any social organization with some social/professional heirarchy, you realize that the people who give you shit are the ones who are unfulfilled themselves. In the world of entertainment I am essentially a pawn, a plebian, a peasant, a pledge. Something to be sacrificed for the good of those in power. But while the king is busy getting his dick sucked and couldn't give two shits about me, it's the unhappy sophomore whose girlfriend cheated on him or the unmarried 50 year old production supervisor that never quite made it as a writer, these are the people that spew their bitterness on the people below them in an attempt to drag them down to a certain level of spite.

Once you realize this, you wield all the power. The same people that used to drag me down have unintentionally given me this strange sense of hope. While I am on the ground floor and subservent to middle management...I still have a chance. They lost, they came up short of their dream. I'm still in the first quarter.

I was starting to think that maybe I really wasn't talented, I was just some dough eyed kid from the midwest addicted to partying and writing scripts about a lost generation doing a bunch of drugs and trying to figure it all out. But at least we won't wake up in 20 years and be bitter and alone, getting our rocks off dragging our subordinates down. The coolest people I know in LA are the people on the top, they're not envious of talent or threatened by charisma. And that's probably what makes them successful, they keep their eye on the prize.

A really smart guy I know told me three things that I think of every day. When you're ready to stop partying, call it quits. Don't jump off of high shit. Be nice to people. Maybe that's all there is to it. Maybe my crusade of anger that I AM GOING TO SUCCEED in spite of you, is not the best way to go about things. Instead of fantasizing about telling all the people who wronged me on the way up to suck it; perhaps I should fantasize about inviting all the people that helped me along to an amazing party where I say thank you.

And look, I know I suck still. My writing is not great. My work ethic is meh. But you know what? Everyone else's writing fucking sucks too. There are only a few Charlie Kaufmans out there, and a thousand other writers thats are just good enough to get shit made. And maybe that's all I need to be. Maybe I would get to where I'm trying to be quicker if I was more of that first alarm guy. Or maybe the fact that I go out drinking on Tuesday nights with my buddies and quote shitty 90s movies at a pub (BODHI THIS IS YOUR FUCKING WAKE UP CALL MAN, I AM AN F B I AGENT) leading me to be an hour late and 2 days hungover, will allow me to not take myself too seriously and make a career out of this some day. But until then best believe I'm hitting snooze.