Welcome to the Bright Side

At my new job I work in a busy office among some of the loveliest, most dependable people you’d ever meet. They worked on the Obama campaign, they’ve lobbied to save children, they’re dating their college sweethearts and going to baseball games in their free time. They work hard, they play the game, they use so many buzzwords in a row it makes my head spin.

Smiling is their natural state. Small talk comes easily.

My resting bitch face could break skin. I will stare at my dead iPhone before chatting about my weekend. What is this? Do people really have such lovely, wholesome lives? Do they really wear khakis with pleats? Where is the danger? Where are the people with the secrets who have seen a few things and done even more? Where are my people?

In my all black, crazy heels and tattoos I feel like a Dementor from Harry Potter, roaming around the office shrieking (internally).

Yesterday I pitched a script where a guy carried a small box around all day. The box was very heavy, he almost couldn’t pick it up. When he opened the box, all that was inside was love.

“Wouldn’t that mean the box was light?” a co-worker asked. He’s probably the nicest guy in the office.

The thought had never occurred to me. Everyone knows, love is heavy. Everyone knows that, right? These people don’t know that… and I hope they never do.