Who is the Imaginary scriptwriter behind yesterday´s lousy dream? Was it me? No, I wouldn’t compose a nightmare about this in a million years, at least not consciously, ok? Imaginary screenwriters are some kind of tiny freelance Oompa Loompas …
Who is the Imaginary scriptwriter behind yesterday´s lousy dream? Was it me? No, I wouldn’t compose a nightmare about this in a million years, at least not consciously, ok?
Imaginary screenwriters are some kind of tiny freelance Oompa Loompas that live inside of our brain, quite far from the hamster wheel that make our ideas work, so the racket doesn´t bother it and put an end to their wonderful storytelling, of course, when they lack of imagination, as we sometimes writers get blocked, we wake up annoyed after listening all night long at Miley Cyrus´ Wreckingball or some earworm like a cereal jingle.
When this happens, it´s time for this tiny elf to get its own vacation, or a good salary raise, to heighten the spirits, but tonight dream is sadly one of those unforgivable things, please come to the main office to sign your resignation contract. It is not that you my little scenarist friend have done a bad job during the last years, well, actually you did it, some of them where worth the golden Wake-Up-Crying-Award and counted for a good horror novel, but perhaps it is time to find a fresh writer. Somebody who doesn’t just open the Big-Fears Archive and composes something passable to fill in the night gaps, if I wanted it, I would see Barney or Tele Tubbies before going to sleep, that´s scary enough. Besides, one of my sources told me that you might be the one that feeds the monster that´s under my bed. Unacceptable.
About scary, let´s get tonight facts right: first of all, ex-boyfriends, they are a sort of loathed vermin, the male equivalent to evil stepmothers in the real life. As you might get, I really dislike this one particularly. Second: nobody in my family knew he is my ex, only my husband does, as we have no secrets, and if they knew in real life we had something they would totally kick him, I can´t tell why, not without my Unicorn lawyer present, at least.
Third fact: I hadn´t had news of him since I married, some sixteen years ago, incidentally this year, my father has got contact with him, he only knows we were sort of good teenager friends, so dad wrote me to tell that he married, and so on, I just ignored everything about and end of it… which leads me to the main topic. The disturbed Hobbit who wrote tonight´s script better start getting a cardboard box for your belongings if you can´t get decent dreaming material!
This is what you, demented garden elf wrote for tonight:
This ex wrote to my father, he told him that he had already divorced and wanted to know about me, then, he got brave – or cynical – enough and told my father everything about us and then asked my father if he could ask for my hand, they even scheduled a day for the fateful occasion.
Of course I was as irate as a fired Oompa Loompa and told my father what I thought about it, but he only said something that it was up to me to choose who I wanted to keep. What? Really, what?
Special award to my husband, who aware of the full situation, being practical and coolheaded as he has always been, he told me he understood my discomfort and he would be at my side to tell this horrible human being that I am not interested in him anymore.
A couple of days before the big day, the whole family became amused with the idea and suggested him to come and stay in the big family home sort of a big Hobbit hole, so nobody would miss the funny outcome (where they expecting a horseback joust or a pistol duel? I wonder). They got us a room, at the end of the corridor, and the adjacent one was going to be occupied by the vermin himself, the rest of the family camped in any empty chamber, furniture or space they could find; a whole party with laughter, food, and a soap opera show, free entry!
I was so upset with them that I decided not to go out of the sleeping room, specially knowing that he-who-must-not-be-named – I´d really have preferred to deal with Voldemort, at least he´s got style – was already there. By the way, my children, who got them out of the screenplay?
Could this get lousier? Yes, it could, as husband and I were crammed for two days in the same room, the scriptwriter decided a romantic scene would be perfect to spend the time; the perfect scenario: the couple loving each other in so may ways, the villain next door overhearing everything. Sick! Awkward, I tell you! Someone has seen so much Game of Thrones and decided a chapter without a hot scene was wasted.
Luckily for my remaining mental sanity, or so my lawyer says, I woke up before things got worse, thanks to my children who make a racket at 6am on a vacation morning.
Anyway, for all that imaginary beings who write screenplay fantasies for us humans that feature them, I gladly announce you that during the next two weeks I’m planning interviews and auditions, if you have wonderful stories about boxes full of puppies, detective mysteries, vacations on snow, romantic escapades and sunny beaches, this is the place for you to work, call now for an appointment!