I’ve realized that a lot of my articles have to do with problems I have in standup as a new comedian. Open mics, bringer shows, last comic standing, cliché jokes, parents threatening to cut me off, you know, all that shit. But what about the accomplishments? What about the good times? What can I learn from those? Recently, I had a really great set and even earned some cash. Nothing big, barely covered parking, but it was nice. On the way to the show, a girl I’d been seeing broke up with me over text message and I not only managed not to let it bother me, but I also turned it into my first joke. The whole thing felt like a quelling of the usual voices in my head that question my every action. But later on, the questions came.

Was it just because the room was warm? Was it because I went up over an hour into the show? Did the last guy do so well, that as long as I didn’t forget anything, I was okay? Did it even matter? I don’t know if you can relate to this, but I am a very harsh critic and very capable of destroying myself at any moment. The slightest bit of doubt can put me in an introverted state where I just walk circles in my head. So as soon as I started evaluating the night, I forgot about good: the income, the laughs, the comfort. Instead, I decided that anyone with any joke could have killed in that setting. Maybe that’s true, but it’s also that self-doubt that makes me not want to go to open mics to try out new things. It’s what makes me wonder if I’m even doing the right thing, AND THIS FROM A GOOD NIGHT!

Another cliché I’m running into in my writing is the ending always being the same: keep working, keep writing, and keep showing up. It’s as though each thesis is “What the fuck am I doing?” and each conclusion is, “Quit my bitching; go back to work.” But maybe that’s a good thing. I need to defy those internal self-defeating voices if I ever want to have another killer paid set. Also, I should probably just quit my bitching. See you on the circuit!