This is a trying business. It's a one step forward two steps back, hurry up and wait fucking emotional and mental roller coaster train wreck. It gets to you, it gets hard it gets real damn hard and sometimes it'll cost more than it's really worth to continue to do what you love as a comic. To make people laugh, really laugh and get paid to do it, to work at it and watch it develop and master it... The joys of what I do are amazing. Comics, we do it all... I write all of my own material (which in a couple of cases have been STOLEN from me and I have NO recourse for it), I produce the material, I direct my show, and I'm the full on performer of the piece. I play with out a net, there's NO ONE there - no back up music, no one to whisper lines at me from the wings should I miss a step or drop the ball... It's ALL on me, baby! For me getting on stage is truly the easy part of being a comic, it's everything that goes into it that makes it hard. The long hours of travel, the writing and hammering out of a joke, the life I leave behind when I go on tour for months on end, the shows that I really need that fall out last minute and now I'm scrambling to make ends meet with my bills. Trying to hold everything in my life together from a long distance away... The strain on romantic relationships are unbearable at times. I feel like I'm hanging on by a thread and then life walks in with a pair of scissors.
It gets real damn hard to be fucking funny when your personal world is starting to crumble. I'm angry. I'm so angry at all the fucked up things that have lead me to this rotten damn day. Yet I'll go on tonight, I'll walk onto that stage and we'll all have a good damn laugh at life... Then when the shows are over, when it's just me laying alone in the darkness I'll reflect on this shit fucking day and wonder if it's time to go back to being the average Joe, back to the 9 - 5 bullshit, false sense of security that is commonly called a "Real Job" and call comedy quits.