Back in January I promised to write every day that month. Then I just kept going.
Now, I’m in the home stretch with one month to go. I’ve gone without a miss and I’m proud of the work that’s been published. I would have never thought that I would have something to say every day of the year but I guess I did. Not every post was a winner – there’s a probably a dozen or two that I’d like removed. The bad hair days of writing, if you will.
I realized about three years ago when I started therapy that I’m actually a dark person.
I remember being drawn to comedy at a young age – sneaking downstairs to watch HBO comedy specials laughing hysterically at well-crafted jokes by Buddy Hackett and Rodney Dangerfield. Bill Cosby’s Himself remains one of my absolute favorite sets. These were heroes of mine.
This post will not fall under the general hilarity that is my regular musing wit.
I am in a funk tonight. I had an exhausting (but good) day at work. Something incredibly shitty happened at the end that sent me off into a rage. As someone that has avoided his feelings most of his life I do not yet handle extremes well. Things like anger and sadness and fear hit me very hard. In the past I never learned how to sit or tolerate them. I learned that the best thing to do was to run from them.
This one caught me off guard.
I put an event together at our office recently to offer free headshots to employees. I realized that I had not updated my own headshot in over eight years.
Since then I’ve become fatter which is something I can fix at anytime except I started eating candy three years ago and have only occasionally come up for air.
My nap addiction has finally made me hit bottom. Literally.
Tonight, after feasting on too much pizza, I sat on my couch working on the computer. My couch is long and comfortable and a great place to fall asleep. I’m not someone who sleeps anywhere but a bed, however it’s the kind of couch where you could, if you wanted, pass out.
My friend Jackée Harry (from 227) got married tonight.
I don’t know the real Jackée but out of respect I should probably change the bride’s name. (It’s Erin)
Three years ago I was invited by someone I knew in A.A. (I’m an alcoholic – thankfully sober) who was starting a group called The Experiment. The structure was very simple. Meet in a room once a week and tell the truth about what’s really going on in your life. The good and the bad. This is a safe place to bring your shit.
I wrote a few days ago about how a woman I know contacted me about a girlfriend that I ought to call. I was very flattered she thought the two of us might hit it off.
When I inquired about this woman, who, for the rest of the article I'll call Shirley Hemphill (from What's Happening!!), because I used to watch that show and was always impressed with her jokes. Plus, her hair was amazing.
A girl took me to lunch today.
Actually, I paid, but it was her idea.
In my profession, which is managing Chicago real estate agents, I am constantly recruiting.
Many firms simply do a terrible job of supporting their realtors and leasing agents, and I am always reaching out asking if they would be interested to join our firm.
I've heard it said that the strongest human instinct is not survival, but denial. Think about it a moment – there are many people that would rather die than change. Suicide victims, for example. They deny their relevance to the world and others, and escape their pain through tragedy.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
