Chasing

Today is very much a day about chasing things up. This may not be the best idea on the day which is supposedly the most depressing day of the year. It should be the perfect idea in the world as it should be making me feel organised and industrious. However, every bit of chasing up I've done is currently being ignored and I'm left feeling like the invisible actor.

Currently I'm the chaser of one payment, one set of photos and one film. If I'd just begun the chase and still had my victims in sight then I'm pretty sure I'd be feeling joyous and optimistic about my pursuit. But I haven't. Instead, I'm on the fourth leg of the payment run and have just entered the second leg of the film and photo race and it's fair to say that my sprint has now turned into a woefully tired crawl. My emails started out so sunny and polite that I can't imagine how anyone could possibly ignore them. They were full of questions about the recipient's wellbeing and wishes that we get to work together in the future. They were laidback and crammed full of understanding of how busy the recipient was and when I sent them off I fully expected a response in the next day or so.

At first, my payment chase was where I was most successful. Probably because an actress in pursuit of money is something that even Usain Bolt would struggle to beat. They said they realised that there was another form I had to fill out and that as soon as it was done, they could process the payment immediately. I signed the forms to promise that I wouldn't turn into a murderous, drug-taking, alcohol-fuelled thesp and my email was received with a very brief but hopeful 'Thanks.' That email was sent just under a month ago and yet I'm still hunting down these pennies which will allow me to live for another month. So today I began my 2012 campaign and fired off an 'I really mean business this time' email in the hope that they finally take notice and empty the companies entire savings into my account or, y'know, just pay me what I'm owed.

But it's not just the reward that I'm after. It's bad enough that I've worked for these people and the very little that I ask in return is currently being dangled above my head, just out of arm's reach. But what's really bugging me is the fact that I'm now just being ignored. I realise people are busy but how long does it really take to quickly reply to an email? Even if they don't know the answer and can't currently tell me when I'll be able to pay my rent/cry at the sight of myself in a novelty costume/cringe at the sound of my own voice, can't they just reply and say that? But no, instead they have all decided to use the tried and tested method of 'let's ignore her and hope she gives up and goes away.' I'm not sure why they have all decided upon this approach and I can only presume that all the directors and producers and accounts type people all got together recently and decided that the best method for really winding up an actress with way too much time on her hands would be to get her to do the work and then pretend that she doesn't exist. Well, let me tell you, all you people who do important things that mean that I occassionally get to do the job I really want to do, I most definitely do exist otherwise T has some serious amount of explaining to do about the amount of dresses in his wardrobe.

However, I have to admit that that this hasn't helped with my theory that I may not actually be visible to the naked eye. That person you barge past as you're walking down the street as if they don't exist? That's probably me. That customer that gets repeatedly ignored? That'd also be me. But I'm pretty sure I do exist. I mean I've got credits on my CV which I'm almost certain that I didn't make up. And there's definitely evidence of my existence on film although they're mainly in the form of adverts, none of which have actually aired. Maybe this means I am actually the world's first invisible actor. In which case I'm off to place my CV at the top of the pile in every casting director's office until I can finally make the leap and get myself seen.