Well I still can't sleep like I want to so I rode my bike around in the rain last night until I got tired or the sun started to come up. It's always the latter. I left my parent's house at about 0130AM and I got back at about 0600AM. Usually if a person keeps that kind of schedule one may be tempted to say things like, "you must have had a good time last night, do you remember her name?" but there were no people involved in my night out. As usual it was just me, a bike, two earbuds, and many, many, many podcasts about stand-up comedy. I probably covered about 40 miles last night, pretty standard, and in my month here visiting my hometown I have probably ridden at least 50% of this city's streets. Sadly, I'm not even close to getting tired of it.
I got up late today and came down here to the Bartlesville Public Library or the Bartlesville Public Crying Baby Theater and Rumpus Room, which ever the fuck you want to call it. Shockingly I can't think of anything funny to write about, or more realistically, I can't write in a funny way about anything in my brain right now, or more more realistically, I'm not funny.
I'm trying to treat this blog like a job because if I want to be a self supporting writer/performer then I have to be able to get up and work everyday without any bosses telling me what to do and without having any Policy & Procedures manuals dictating the rules to me, it's a bit of an adjustment after living a life of, "You tell me where I need to go and what I need to do, I don't just do shit on my own, asshole." Except I wouldn't really add that "asshole" part to the end.
As much as I crave a life where I call my own shots as much as possible and I work primarily for myself it's never been easy or comfortable or secure, and I know it never will be so I'm not complaining. In about a week I'll be home in Flagstaff and I will force myself to start performing at any available open mic's in town. It's strange to want to do something so much but to have to force yourself to do it. Maybe I don't really want to get on stage. That would be fucking great to finally come to terms with. I think I would finally have the guts to kill myself if that were true and I held onto this bullshit lie for so long.
Well, I was really hoping a few paragraphs in I would be able to pull something out of the air and make a funny time out of it, but I'm feeling nothing like that so I'm going to go eat pizza.