Let the Madness Begin

Chapter 4: How to work with your inner team

I’m a film producer now. And it’s too late to call it all off.

A week from today we’ll be shooting my pilot script on a winter campsite in the Alps.

Sounds cool, right?

But not to ANXIOUS me who is typing these words right now.

Nor to my inner CRITIC who keeps pestering me with long monologues about my lack of expertise.

At the same time, STARTUP me is bent over Excel sheets. Crunching numbers, sweating it - where, oh, where has all the money gone?

Inner CRITIC knows exactly where: there wasn’t any in the first place. Only a fool would have sent off an entire film team on this suicide mission.

XAVIER, my imaginary assistant, refuses to answer my phone calls.

My inner HEADLESS CHICKEN is running in circles.

STARTUP me is in the bathroom now (let’s not go into details here).

Leaning on the bathroom door: LAZY me. Shaking his head: It was a good life. A bit of copywriting. Long walks on the beach. Why did you have to squander it all?

Under the shower: my inner CHEERLEADER looks like she’s on speed while jumping and fist-pumping with I’ve got the power on an endless loop.

XAVIER is still refusing to take MY CALLS.

The SWISS in me is huddled in a corner, still correcting typos in a script version that we handed in three months ago.

Meanwhile, my INNER MUM is handing out protein bars while yelling at everybody to stop hiding in the bathroom.

TEENAGE me is shouting back while banging her head against the tiles: “Can’t you see? We’re doomed. THIS SHIP IS SINKING.”

CHEERLEADER has moved on to Sofi Tukker and tries to get everybody to sing along to the chorus of F*ck they.

It’s a well-meant approach but apart from HEADLESS CHICKEN nobody has any stamina left to join in the chorus.

And XAVIER is still refusing to take MY CALLS.

-

So this is the current state of my inner team.

Minus one.

PRODUCER ME.

She is sitting in her office chair. Relaxed. At ease.

And no, she isn’t faking it. Nor is she on drugs (these days are long gone).

She’s calm. She knows how to hang out in the eye of the storm. She’s known her crazy inner team for a long time. And there are at least another dozen of them hanging out in her and my psyche.

So why fret about a film set? About crew and cast who may lose their cool from time to time? She’s been dealing with this stuff for the past 52 years.

She’s prepared.

She knows what she’s up against.

She has acquired deep insight into the pitfalls of the human mind. She knows the emotional maze, logistic nightmare, and planning supernova that’s about to unfold right in front of her.

She has worked as a wedding planner, olive picker, actor, life coach, and homeopath (note to self, pack those placeboes). She has grown up with three older brothers. She’s given birth to two human beings. She managed to get them to school on time daily (most days).

So bring it on.

Let’s get this party started.

She’s ready.

This woman knows no fear.

This woman has had five decades to build up resilience.

She knows how to skip through a minefield.

She can defuse a nuclear bomb.

(Okay, she’s a smartass too).

If you don’t hear from her in a while, don’t worry. She’s handing out shooting schedules and hot water bottles on the campsite below. She’s giving pep talks and turns up the stereo, jump-dancing through the snow, across the icy lake, certain that her time has come.

Ps. It’s April and you still haven’t heard from her? Perhaps give her a ring? Just in case.

Pps. Xavier, if you happen to read this: please, get in touch ASAP. (Yes, you’re right, I should NEVER have fired you.)