The Latest In A Series Of Things That Are Probably Self-Evident To Most People, But Which I Must Suffer And Experience To Discover

Last night I was called back to my job which had officially ended for me last week on Friday. I pulled a thirteen hour day, dusted my able hands off and congratulated myself on a job well done.

Tonight I was called back to pull another all-nighter.

I've had so little time to myself that I seem to be losing my soul - my essence, my joy of life, my ability to have fun in the world. I have had even less time for my wife, my marriage. What does this mean for my relationship with my wife? The stability of my marriage?

I don't mean to say that Karen and I have grown apart, that we don't love each other, or that anything in particular is wrong or bad between us. But to keep a bond between people strong, it's not a matter of simply being the right person. You have to log the hours. And I'm way behind on my Karen hours.

Karen has been amazing through this whole project. I couldn't have asked for anyone to be more understanding and patient while I worked through to the end, but tonight something snapped inside me. I haven't spent a good, long time with just her in so long that I am beginning to feel estranged from her. I can't remember what it's like to spend real quality time with her.

She feels the same way. When I told her that I was leaving to go back tonight, she almost cried. She was really upset. I was stuck in the way I've been thinking for the past five months.

"Think positive!" I said. "Look at that sunset!"

We were walking our dogs and the sky was lit up with clouds purple and orange. I wanted to go back into the apartment, get our camera, and take pictures on the roof with her. We finished walking the dogs, headed in to Manhattan on the L train, and parted ways at 6th avenue.

I love the work that I do. I'm good at it and it's fun. I make decent money. But I have to be very careful about how much time I spend at work. Laying on the futon here in the office, waiting for some DV files to finish outputting, I woke up to something that is true:

This job is almost over and when it is, we will go on vacation and have a lot of time together, just the two of us. This vacation is not a fun, jolly, extra thing that we are doing but has, for me, taken on the form of a reparation. It feels like trying to make up for all of the time we haven't had in the last five months. I keep telling her and myself, just hold on, just a little while longer, just a few weeks or days more, and we'll be in Hawaii. This trip is a band-aid for our relationship.

But I cannot continue working like this. I have a long life ahead of me, and many more jobs through the years. If every job is so intense that I have to try and fix the things left broken while I was working, then before too long the damage will be permanent. You can only glue something back together so many times.

And no fucking movie is worth my marriage.

When I realized this, I nearly walked out of the building that moment. But I am here, I came in, and I have a responsibility to finish this out and see it through. If I don't, I'm screwing a whole team of people who have worked on this project for more than a year.

I let it get this far because I have never worked this much before. I didn't know what of myself and my life I would be sacrificing. But I can't let this happen again. Not this many hours for this long. I have to take care of myself and my wife.

This might be the moment where I find out that I'm not ready for the big time and never will be. If all major motion pictures require this level of devotion, then I'm dooming myself to the minor leagues.

But, like I said. No movie is worth my marriage.

Karen, I'm sorry.