September 28, 2018

I was trying to walk into my boss’s office, but instead I got my foot caught in the strap of my backpack and I tripped trying to get out of it and FELL into her office. She hasn’t stopped laughing. It was amazing. What an entrance.

That moment alone reminded me of how much I love comedy. I just want to make people laugh, you guys. I don’t want to talk about murder all day. I like murder (when it’s not me or anyone I know or love or care about or have ever met…let’s not murder people). But I don’t want to talk about it all day. I want to make jokes and fall over and write comedy.

How did I get so far from my goal?

Well, reality. Bills and such. Expectations from my family. But really – I am to blame. It was me. I didn’t react well to the grief. I still haven’t recovered. So here we are. Killings instead of killing at stand-up.

I got sad. I got angry. I curled up in a ball. I crawled inside myself and never came out. Every time I think about making people laugh, I also think about how sad I am.

Can I even do it anymore?

Day 110 – I miss laughing.

July 3, 2018

What a day. Everything I did today was so that I could watch Bridget Jones’s Diary. I know what that sounds like. But it was a goal, okay? It was something to shoot for. And then when I finally turned it on, I fell asleep almost immediately and missed most of it. But I got to my goal. Another small win.

I had a somewhat productive meeting. A somewhat productive afternoon post-meeting. A somewhat productive evening spent with friends playing trivia in a dive bar.

And then the less productive sadness settled in as memories hit me. Memories in which we set off fireworks for the 4th of July. In which we spent summers at a mountain cabin, eating candied apples, going boating on the lake (my dad eventually sank that boat…three times), playing cards, joking around, talking, fighting, silent treatment. I’d take any of it.

I’d take any of it.

Day 23 – Mixed bag of productivity and sadness.