I thought I could reap some decent comedy from my daily humiliations.
It's a popular, well worn path.
I assumed most days would be a "loss" and joking about it would help lighten the load.
But it only magnified my misery.
This silly diary made me confront the fact I had to change my life.
Messengering had become my security blanket.
It had tattered away to nothing, and I was still clinging to it.
I couldn't keep writing about being stuck in a dead end job in a dying industry.
It was funny at first, but then it grew pathetic.
So after ten years, I officially retired.It was funny at first, but then it grew pathetic.
I'm not sure I would have quit if I hadn't been publicly pouting about it every day.
I probably would have just found more things to drink.
A lot of good things happened this year.
I got engaged to a most beautiful woman.
I toured Europe and recorded with The Bitter Tears.
I formed The Nurse Novels and recorded an album.
I recorded with Tijuana Hercules.
I played drums for The Second City.
I conceived and directed a silly show about a Beatles tribute band.I did music and taught improv at The Annoyance.
Remember when I was a jogger?
That happened.
What else.
I wrote a lot.
It seems I wanted to make writing work for me.
I considered journalism.
But I think I respected journalism too much to sully it with my drivel.
It's too legitimate.
So I freelanced very, very briefly with The Onion AV Club.
I thought I could write goofy blurbs on city happenings.
I pitched an interview piece about improvisers and bad audience suggestions.
If it got published it would pay $50.
I thought it would be a good foot in the door.
Using Facebook I interviewed a bunch of friends, and got some good quotes.
It took a week to get it all together.
The editor liked the piece and shelved it.
It never ran.
I pitched another idea: A Misanthrope's Guide To The Taste Of Chicago.
The editor didn't like that one as much.
Then he quit being the editor, and I lost interest in sort of working for the possibility of maybe $50.
I also tried writing for Groupon.
Again.
In 2009 I freelanced as a humor writer.
When it was time for full-time hirings, I was in Europe with the Bitter Tears.
Upon my return, they lost interest in me.
My friend who did get hired put it this way.
"You had that job. But then you went on tour."
This summer, a details writer position had opened.
I sent in my samples.
The guy who hired details writers asked me if I was serious about having a full time job.
I told him yes.
A week later I followed up about my samples in an email.
He didn't respond.
Another week went by.
I applied for customer service.
Customer service said that I was still being considered for the details writer position.
I emailed the details writer guy.
No response.
I no longer wanted to work for Groupon.
A few weeks later, I met my humor writer friend for drinks.
"Yeah, he hired a bunch of young hot girls."
I think I made the right choice in not pursuing that further.
I may not have made any money writing this year, but it didn't stop me from doing it.
I wrote and read original pieces for The Paper Machete and The Ray's Tap Reading Series.
I wrote in moving cars and I wrote while working bars.
I gave out stories as Christmas gifts.
In total, I made $0 writing this year.
But if the glass is half-full, then writing those Christmas stories did save me a little money.
The glass is hall-full, alright.
Half-full of shit.
Nevertheless, I'm going to keep writing.
I've gotten really good at first drafts.
It's funny.
I still feel as scattered and unfocused now as I was at the beginning of the year.
I know that I want to write.
I want to publish something that will make people laugh and resonate on a deeper level.
I know I've still got a lot of work to do.
I have to figure out the business.
Whatever that means.
I'm pretty sure I can do it if I don't let myself get in the way.
A misanthrope's guide to travel is a good idea.Here is the final tally:
Wins: 250
Losses: 114
Shit: 1
May was the winningest month with 25 wins.
This can be attributed to being in Europe for most of that month.
December was the losingest month with 14 losses.
This can be attributed to financial burden and Christmas.
The shittiest day was September 15.
The day I emptied RV's of their human excrement.
But that was not the worst day.
I don't know which day was the worst.
It's hard to pick just one.
Probably one of those summer days spent soaking in my own butt sweat losing money and jacking off in the back of the van to induce a temporary suicidal cum coma.
I had several of those.
The best day was October 23.
My engagement to Lauren played out like a goofy, feel-good hour-long sitcom.
I'm looking forward to our nuptials.
It was a tall order.
Writing about every single goddamn day.
821 pages.
177,884 words.
I can't believe I actually finished it.
177,884 words.
I can't believe I actually finished it.
It seems I am a winner.
At least for this year.
Thank you for reading.
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