Sweating the Small Stuff
I’m self-conscious. Always have been.
People who know me get it. People who think they know me but really don’t, don’t.
I really, really believe in the idea of not “sweating the small stuff.” When I started doing this weird comedy thing, I sweat a lot. I worried about hecklers. I worried about “getting found out” by all the people I didn’t tell yet (which was everyone but 4). I sweat the small stuff. A lot.
Now, thankfully, the voices that keep repeating in my head all the positives in my life – a loving family, great work, amazing friends, health- all the big stuff – those voices are louder than the small stuff voices.
I still worry but that’s my nature. It makes for some good comedy, too. I won’t lie.
Now instead of hiding my comedy addiction, I admit to it. Here’s what I would like them to know: When people find out that I am involved in comedy, inevitably someone says “good for you, you’re chasing your dream”. I appreciate the sentiment. I do. I know most times it comes with a sense of appreciation (or astonishment) for working toward something that has a low rate of return – at least by conventional standards.
The thing is that for me, at least, it’s not really chasing the dream, at all. Sure, I would love if someday in the future I could write for the Colbert Report, the Daily Show or SNL. It would be great if I could find a way to get my writing out to more people or work with a great team. Maybe that will happen, maybe it won’t.
For me, writing, doing stand-up, playing music – it’s like exercise. I feel really badly if I don’t do it.
No one has mistaken me for a body builder yet. It may be that no one ever mistakes me for the next Louis C.K. or Judd Apatow, either. But I will tell you, that not doing it doesn’t feel like an option. The only difference between comedy and the treadmill is that every so often, I get somewhere with comedy (and usually gain weight instead of lose it).