I spent all day in a post apocalyptic world pretending to be one of the only 500 people left on earth, in a scary underground location that's in the middle of nowhere. Oh and I am chilled to the bone breathing in 30 year old dust and squinting in the dark smokey air. My face is on fire, my nose is red and fragile. We are making a movie in the place that wind was created, the cradle of the slamming shutters and aluminum siding. There's also a haunting memorial where a dead body was found, at least that's the rumour. So when I come home and there's no lights on and the new door creaks, I tend to catch my breath, preparing for something lurking. It's never the same thing in the corners though, sometimes it's swamp thing in the shower or Jason in the closet, some sort of unmasked ninja bandits. I may be a little bit nervous but I hope that there is something universal keeping me safe in my house. Safe hidden away.
But at work, those victims are never safe...the bad guys just keep coming and killing and blood and guts and climbing and slashing, it's horrific. But I am going back to the past next week, so I just gotta hold out for that. It's a special olde timey kinda cold. It's a stinky, smokey, drippy, creaky and shaky feeling but otherwise safe. I am living other lives. And I come home with all the ghost and bad guys and scaredy cat feelings. Hoping to snuggle my Hubby, but he's not here and the lights are off, and it's just you and me, and my mind keeps on racing. Maybe I should watch more Mad Men, who could be scared of a world so beautiful?