I woke up today feeling shit. Wondering why I fucking bother. I’m failing all around. I can’t even manage a successful fuck buddy situation.
I have an embarrassing notion of trying stand up comedy. Who do I think I am? I am taking a comedy improv class, also known as public panic attack practice. I am not good at comedy improv. The phrase “a deer in headlights” comes to mind. Except it doesn’t because my mind is a black hole of no thoughts any time I need to come up with a word.
It’s great I’m not being a hermit in my dollhouse apartment anymore. At least not all the time. But I wonder why I bother.