Coming home.

It's an intense experience when you spend a few days away
from home, working with new people. I know the director but none
of the rest of the small crew, the location guy or producer.

The shoot binds you all together and you have to be on
your game. In fact everyone is on their game.
Performing. Showing off almost. It is very intoxicating.

There's a real sense of purpose and a feeling you are
part of a very cool gang. You trust their expertise, and they yours.
You make new friends, but you know most of them won't last.
And there's always a moment of sadness when you
realise you won't be hanging with them anymore.

Then you remember you are down to your last pair of clean pants,
and hearing 'Killing me softly' played over and over again
in the diningroom over breakfast makes you want to force the
weird inedible sausages into your own bottom, and
pee into the apple juice just to see if anyone will notice.

And you think: Maybe it's time to go home.

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