There once was a place, many years ago, where you had to physically drive to rent a movie to watch. You would pick out a videotape cassette, which was like a DVD but larger, not shiny and round, you couldn’t stick it in a computer– I’ll stop here, as I just realized that most of the people reading this are probably not in middle school. Anyway, where was I going with this? Oh right; at those places, there was someone whose job it was to rewind the tapes to make sure they were ready for the next person to rent. It’s that guy who I imagine is in my head, rewinding every moment I have. You see, once I say something, I automatically rewind it, replay it, and over analyze it. It gets a little repetitive and yet I have trouble turning it off.

Today, I was on set for the television pilot that I’m working on. When you film a pilot, there are a lot of people who come out to see it get done. There are the important folks at the network, at the studio, the executive producers of the show, agents, managers… it’s a list about three pages long titled “People I Want to Like Me” and unassumingly hire me in the future, represent me, produce my script, invite me to their annual white party…. It’s stressful wanting to talk with all of them and then if I do, having to replay the moment over and over again in my mind. That poor little guy in the rewind booth even works holiday weekends.

With every conversation I have, I am rethinking it. Should I have said that? I should have said that! Why didn’t he laugh? Am I even funny? Is this whole comedy route a big mistake? I should have been a doctor. But you pass out at the sight of blood. That’s not the point!

Then there’s twitter. People have literally gotten sitcoms made after they put out a few funny tweets. That means what you tweet holds a lot of weight for a comedy writer. It has got to be witty, hilarious, and smart all within 140 characters. That is why I’m so often tweetin’ and deletin’.

And flirting, or rather attempting to, is another moment for me to over think every word that comes out of my mouth. I analyze what I said, what he said, and then go back over the scene again and again. If I had said A instead of B, what would the outcome be? Still C? Or would it be D? Or, Z?! How will I know?!

I hope I’m not the only one employing that little man upstairs. As a female, it’s normal to over think things, right? I read an article once about how men will speak their mind in a business setting more often than women, because women will over analyze and refrain from speaking until they are sure what they are saying is correct. If men are wrong, they just shrug, scratch their balls and move on with it. Ah, to have some balls. I’d shut down that little rewind man like every Blockbuster in the state of California.

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