After months and months of skinning my knees in my new job as a Headhunter, in January, I shot from dead last in the office to third in sales. It’s quite literally the toughest endeavour I’ve ever undertaken, but after a few deals, I know what it takes to be successful.
But wait: this isn’t Diary of a Headhunter, or is it? Have I succumbed to the succubus that is a career making six figures, thereby sacrificing my dream of becoming a killer stand-up comedian??
Yesterday, I watched Sound of My Voice, a movie about a couple that attempts to infiltrate and expose a cult. Halfway through the film, the leader asked one of the non-believers,
Why are you so lame?
Immediately, I asked myself the same question: Why was I so lame? Why had I failed at virtually everything that I’d tried to do? Why?? Continue reading
I have a day job. That’s it: it’s over.
The dream of being a comedian squashed by the base compulsions of Maslow’s bottom rungs. Now, with all my energy being spent on trying to buy it for a dollar and sell it for two, I don’t have the time to do stand-up, let alone write.
So far, seven months have come and gone in 2013. So far, I’ve been on stage six times. Ugh.
I’ve been experiencing anxiety on a daily basis for the past four years. I’ll be doing the dishes or going for a drive, and all of a sudden I’ll notice that my breathing is short, the very air passing through my nose hurts, my heart constricts, and there’s a tightness in my chest. Given the fact that heart disease has plagued all of my male ancestors, it’s a scary thing to go through, almost like my heart is reminding me who’s in charge. Weird.
It happened again this morning as I was cooking, and I pleaded with myself,
|Why can’t I enjoy this? I enjoy cutting up the hearts and the gizzards, I enjoy slicing the tomatoes, I love partitioning out all of my spices into little saucers like I’m on cooking show on TV…so why is my heart racing??