Editor's Note:  This is a reposting of the author's original entry.  It was removed per the request of her employers after Gawker and Jossip picked up on the story.


Hollywood is hard.

And by hard I mean…fickle.

I’m sitting here at work, doing literally nothing. Most of my bosses are out of the building. I am sitting here, reading OTR, Fark, and Facebook. My only assignment of the day was to “find pools.”

“What kind of Pools?” I asked.

“Just…just POOLS.”

…oh…

This has been the back and forth of working at Fox. Somedays are incredibly busy — my head boss, a fairly well-known producer, gave me a Meryl-Streep-in-Devil-Wears-Prada long list of things to do one day, 3 hours before I had to leave. The list included finding out the name of some upcoming directors at an agency, searching for ad rates on popular websites, and finding the HOME address of a popular celebrity CEO [NOT an actor, and NOT Ben Affleck], so he could “play a trick” on them.

“Oh, well, do you have any contacts for them?” I asked, hopefully. “I mean, can I drop your name to get it? I just don’t know how I could get access…”

“No, no, no,” he said, annoyed. “That would RUIN the prank. Just you know, google it or something”

…oic.

Later he walked in, threw his healthcare card on my desk, and said, “Oh, by the way, figure out my healthcare stuff, would ya? Like the online account.”

…WHAT?

Now, to be fair, my head-producer-prank-playing boss is a) incredibly talented and b) very nice (he recently sat me down for 20 minutes so he could get to know me), and there are days where I get to review and copyedit scripts, and once production starts I’m sure I’ll be used more (we’re in pre-production for our work, which just means logistics up the ass).

Much like Hollywood itself, however, my job seems to ebb and flow with the trends. Sometimes I feel totally relevant, and sometimes I spend my day hoping no one catches me Gmail chatting with my best friend. Like right now, because as of this moment, I’m bored.

Ohh it’s sushi day. Awesome.