(I wrote this May 14th and forgot to post it.)
Well I’m standing next to a mountain,
I chop it down with the edge of my hand.
Well, I pick up all the pieces and make an island,
Out of tiny grains of little sand.
Worker’s high. It’s a term I made up based on “runner’s high.” I’ve had both. It’s a thing that happens when you push your mind past what you thought you were capable of. When you put so much work into a something and you see it start to work out.
This past week I’ve performed stand-up ten times, taken eight three-hour improv classes, watched seven awesome stand up shows, seen two solid improv shows, and performed in my own improv grad show. It’s the best week ever! Seriously, someone give me infinite money so I can do this all the time (or like, $20,000 a year and I can cover the rest). The whole week I’ve been happy, furious, frustrated, sad, exhausted, sick, and yet…best week ever. Being good at anything seems like raising a decent kid. You’re gonna be pissed off a lot of the time from all the work it is, but man, is it rewarding when you realize what you’ve put yourself through so your baby could be something worthwhile. Jimi would know what I mean.