Progress report and randomocities

I've decided what I'm currently doing with my screenplay Yod-17 shouldn't really be considered a first draft.

Yes, it's a screenplay, and a draft per se, but I know that the final draft will have little resemblance to what I'm doing now. All I'm doing is telling the story in screenplay form. Basically, I'm just laying it out, and when I'm done I'll write a treatment for it, since I'll finally know where the story is going. After that I'll begin the first rewrite, which I will then consider the first draft.

To me, this is the most organic, natural way to do it. Others may have other methods. This is what works for me. I'll do a rewrite, let it mellow a while, then do another one. Then another one. Usually after four rewrites, maybe five, it'll be in good enough shape for me to consider letting other people look at it. I hope to be at that point by the end of the year, maybe early next year.

There isn't any hurry, really. Any timetable I have is one I'm imposing on myself.

One reason I'm doing this is to have a script I'm completely satisfied with available to submit to contests, or to use as an audition for any screenwriting jobs. I have a couple of others but both of those have strings attached to them so I can't be sending them out willy nilly for people to look at. The only other script I had was a pilot for a TV show that I've mentioned here in the past--a series I'm calling Strange Aeons. I just submitted that one to a screenwriting contest, so it's kind of tied up right now, too, for a while. Anyway, it'll be nice to have some finished work available that I can actually show to people if I want.

Here's an example of a writing exercise I indulge in sometimes, just for your amusement. I went out to breakfast this morning, taking with me the Orson Welles biography I'm currently reading. At the IHOP I made eye contact once or twice with the gentlemen sitting at the booth next to mine--he was also eating alone. He had his newspaper, I had my book, to keep us company.

In another booth across from us sat another man, also alone. He had no book, nor did he have a newspaper. When I first noticed that I thought maybe he was waiting on someone, but no. He placed his order and the waitress brought his food, which he ate, looking straight ahead as he did so.

For some reason I find this fascinating. I usually have to be doing something while I'm eating--reading, doing a crossword puzzle on the app on my phone, watching TV, something is keeping me company. To me, this is only natural, and I think most other people are like this, too.

Am I wrong? What do you think this man's story is?