I have always always seen my life as a sitcom, audience laughter included. Perhaps this is why I make sarcastic remarks so frequently, because I recognize the points in the show, I mean my life, when a punchline should be landed.
At times this makes me feel detached, as if I am watching a character go about his day, ignoring the awful truth that it is indeed myself, even at my worst. It is easier to be critical of a character when it’s not you.
Then comes the point in the show when things get real. The audience is silenced and awaits the conflict to be resolved, or to be solidified by “to be continued.” The moment comes when the audience actually disappears and you realize life has no commercial breaks. The only break is the finale. Death.
You assume you always get a new season to start over with a new plot. All the characters you hurt come back. You get to say you’re sorry.
One day you’ll be done. Who will want to buy your series? Will they make an anniversary edition, or will you be in a giant bin underneath “Battlefield Earth”?