As I wrangled the nurses towards their destination (they seemed...easily distracted and unaware of what "Hurry hurry hurry" means. Perhaps I am being unkind. Perhaps they were just being...naughty) only one thought raced through my mind. "I really hope I can pass them off in time to get back to my lockup, where I mostly sit around and tell a chain-smoking carpenter when he can and cannot run his table saw."
And this is the essential tension of the P.A. There's lots of exotic and presumably interesting stuff going on around you, but you aren't really a part of it (unless you're first team, but that's a whole different kettle of fish) and you don't have time to stop and soak it in, because you're always supposed to be somewhere even if you generally won't do anything except wait. To call it frustrating is to state the obvious.
And yet for all my complaining it's not all horrible. I mean 17.5 hours of work in a single day is indeed ridiculous, but you can take perverse pleasure in surviving it and getting up the next week to do more. There are also occasional moments of worthwhile interaction. Yesterday I helped one of the guys who helped coordinate stunts for Goodfellas get set up, and he was an interesting character. Of course after about 10 hours of waiting around and us never getting to his scene he was bored out of his mind, but there's something to be said for that as well. This guy can jump out of burning cars and knows at least half a dozen forms of deadly combat, but he's just as vulnerable to the drudgery of the industry as I am, and in fact has an easier road in that respect.
The truth is that while I don't think this experience is good for me, there are things to be gained from it and I'm trying to gain them despite the various detriments and problems that arise. Later in the day I did manage to get a good ogle in at one of the nurses, and I've lost some weight due to constantly being on my feet and never eating dinner.
Hopefully I'll get some writing done tomorrow. I really miss doing that. Today I'm exhausted and need to rest and recuperate. The short week that's coming up means I'll likely work about 40 hours from Monday through Wednesday. Then comes my birthday.
What a gift, huh?