Shaun Lewis: the Man, the Myth, the Legend

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The Stanley Kubrick Archives

It’s Wednesday.

Holy Mother of God I am tired. And I mean tired. Not the “oh I’m tired !” sort-of tired, but the “I have a man’s job” tired. You know the kind. It’s where you work with a drill all day, which, conveniently enough, I did.

The last few days have been pretty bloody rough working with James, my cousin. Steve, his other assistant, is on a two-week vacation so I’ve had to do all of his work in addition to my work. I used to be pretty tired whenever I came home from work with James before, but now it’s just ridiculous. Every day (or night) I get home I pretty much just collapse onto the bed or couch or the floor and fall asleep. It feels like I just finished running a Marathon. 14-hour days with no lunch breaks and maybe only 1 or 2 five minute breaks a night will certainly take a toll on you after a few days though. To all my friends and family whom I haven’t seen or talked to in the last week I’d like to say two things: 1) I’m not dead or in the process of dying (well, actually I have been since I was born, but that’s another story altogether) and 2) sorry I don’t have a life anymore.

And now I change gears…

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Currently Listening to

Barry Lyndon

So, it’s very early Monday morning.

I just got off work and although James, my cousin and boss, worked me like a slave, I can’t sleep. I don’t know why this is. Honestly, there probably really is no reason, but the idea of just lying in my wonderfully comfortable bed thinking about hundreds of things before I drift to sleep doesn’t seem appealing. There is absolutely no reason at all for this lack of excitement towards sleep — except one, of course. I drank a lot of Coke.

I like my caffeinated beverages, what can I say?

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