Chaotic. Bizarre. It was the day that would never end. Not that I didn’t enjoy myself, mind you. It was just exhausting. I think I’m coming down with another mild cold. I was incredibly tired to start the day; now I’m just running off of fumes.
Where to begin? I can never recollect details when I want to. The office was bustling with activity this morning, as people prepared for the impending production meeting, scheduled to begin at 11. First thing Leslie had me do was work on entering data from an important sheet (I believe it was the call sheet) in Excel. Midway through that, she had me bus ride to Staples to pick up some black ink cartridges for Assistant Directors Jonathan and Gary.
After I came back, I finished typing out the document and helped distribute the menus. Today’s order was somewhat larger than normal, due to the meeting. Honestly, I can’t remember what all I did today. There was so much, it’s jumbled up in my head. The thing that stands out most is the fact that I made at least ten set runs today, acting as gopher to transport various important documents, script revisions, and such to people on set and in the green (waiting/holding) room. On a few occasions, I went to the main set by myself. I also saw the crew filming on one of the swing sets. That was kinda cool.
Leslie had some additional interviews for Production Assistant today. She said she’s going to miss having me around the office (even though I’m going to be just a few rooms down in the Writer’s office, starting tomorrow), that she felt like I was one of the employees. If I didn’t have the rest of the internship to complete, I got the feeling she might have been interested in possibly hiring me, which was flattering. I’ve only been there for eight days, but it seems like I’ve known everybody in the office for much longer.
The daily video dub came through around 5:30. I began recording and went on to another task. I came back to find it’d stopped. I thought somebody had shut it off and started recording again. Turns out it was just a corrupted file. So Leslie had me go round and about in circles with the company that sends them to us. It took a good few hours to get everything sorted out. Meanwhile, I completed more runs back and forth to the set. One of those times, one of the Chelsea Piers security guards seemed like he was going to grill me. He called out to me, “Hello.” I thought he was just greeting me, but he was beckoning me. “Who are you with?” he asked. I responded that I work with Criminal Intent. “Please accept my apologies,” he said unapologetically. Oy vey. I must look like a criminal or something.
I came back to my apartment building and walked into a steam bath. Literally. The steam pipe to one of the heat radiators on the first floor exploded and steam filled the hallway. There was a deep scar on the adjacent wall. It had to be 90 degrees down there and was so loud I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. One of the tenants was down there gawking, uncertain as to what to do.
Meanwhile, I went up to my apartment and was relieved to find the steam hadn’t entered it. I packed up my laptop and some valuables and stood in the entrance, until I felt it was safe in there. The stairwell was slippery. Somebody from the second floor came down a few moments later and shut off the radiator. After the steam cleared a little, I went back upstairs.
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