Amazing how short-lived certain forms of happiness can be.
I'm back to work more unhappy than before. Maybe because I let slip another editing job for a lousy production job. Maybe loyalty is a strength but I'm definitely not strong enough to tolerate the after effects.
I want an editing job. But I'm always put into production just because I'm able to do it and no one else wants to. Producing has always been like being Cinderella. No one wants to do the cooking and cleaning in the house so the producer does it. Maybe it's my unrealistic expectation that life will be a little improved after the awards. But no. First, the award was not rendered to me. In this country, the only person that counts and gets all the fame and credit is the director.
And some may think its not so bad because at least I'm writing. But no, the writing is slowly turning into promotional writing for a chef I don't really care about. Chef on The Road was fine. It was at the very least, interesting and educational. Now I'm searching for locations for a new series called Mobile Chef and honestly, its starting to feel like I'm doing marketing and public relations to promote this chef to god-knows-who.
The proposed idea is for him, the chef to work in a mobile kitchen in various locations in Singapore. He has to cook up a meal in his unique avant-garde style relative to the location of his kitchen. I would be fine if that was it. Cook up something for common people to get a taste of food that's different. Who would mind?
But no. The Mobile Chef is proposed for rich people who will be driven in limousines to the location to dine in the mobile kitchen. The series isn't serving the public, which I thought it was at first. I though people are gonna catch the series and see the locations in Singapore and food in a different light. But no, this series is made for only one person, the chef. It just promotes him ONLY.
And why should I care about rich people. I might be a bit extreme but a vast majority of rich people I know in this world are arrogant pricks. I don't want to be near them if I can help it. Whatever it is, I feel like I'm working in some Expat magazine. Some people say you have to compromise with what you want to do in your day job. But there's always a limit. I don't care about the high-life, I don't support it now and I never will. Not when hungry children and trafficked prostitutes are on my mind all the time.
This morning I came to work and sat down looking for locations in tears, literally. I was crying. For some reason I just couldn't stand being part of a project that promotes the high-life, even if it doesn't do it directly. All the brief needed to mention was "guest picked up in luxury limo and brought to the exclusive dining experience" to make me want to puke.
On the hypocritical side of me, I would probably have been a lot more tolerant if I was only the editor and not the concept writer. At least I'm able to detach myself when editing and just edit 'professionally'. I can't do that with writing. Maybe that's why I can only choose editing as a day job.
