I was going to write that I felt like $%^&, but this is a family friendly blog, and the truth of the matter is that while I have been under the weather, I haven’t fallen victim to the flu or some other monster winter disease that renders one bedridden for a week.
I’ve still gone for my runs, I haven’t missed any work, and I’ve yet to require any medical attention.
Since Sunday, I’ve had a sore throat, headache, running nose, and a constant need to sneeze.
I don’t like being a slave to the tissue box all day. And the sore throat has been more of an annoyance than an actual symptom that worries me.
Today, I was kind of, sort of feeling better. After blowing my nose all morning, I thought I was finally clearing my system of the crud. However, all afternoon and into the evening, I’ve been coughing because of an annoying tickle in my throat.
The weird thing is, though, that I’ve been on a writing spree the last few days despite my body’s brush with what feels like death, but is certainly far from it.
Is it possible that being sick forces my mind to focus on the more creative side of things? Perhaps it is a coping skill to distract me from the overall feeling of drowning in mucus that has been dominating my life?
I’m no doctor, but I’ve watched enough medical dramas to assume that the red section is where the pain resides, while the other colors denote where the creativity is blossoming in my giant brain.
Since I was pretty much stuck inside on the couch all day Sunday, I had an intern fetch me my laptop, and I just cranked out jokes for this week’s taping of The Nite Show.
Writing monologue jokes can be a tricky business because you’re trying to come up with various comedic takes on the same topic to give the host plenty of choices. Plus, if it’s a good topic, he’ll use multiple jokes if they are well written.
So you’re trying to make each joke funnier than the previous one, while also different enough to not be considered the same gag, so it can also be used.
For whatever the reason, conjuring up the funny was easier over the last couple of days. Perhaps being a little out of it allows me to loosen up a bit, or maybe being sick simply gives me a different perspective on the world.
Who cares as long as Danny uses the jokes and they kill, right?
Last night, when I turned in my finally batch for Wednesday’s monologue, I asked Danny to excuse the strangeness of my humor, as I was hopped up on cold medicine.
I had taken one pill earlier in the day.
I just knew the jokes were a tad “out there” and didn’t want him to be alarmed and call the police to do a health and welfare check.
My hyper creativity wasn’t merely limited to the world of late night television, either.
I am not one to outline, but I have been typing up page after page on this one, Modern Philosophers.
I already knew I had a great idea, but after reviewing my notes, I now realize that I have enough to turn this into a series if I so desire. And by “if I so desire”, what I really mean is if I stop hemming and hawing about trying to write a novel, and just sit down and start turning this brain bubble into a book.
I wonder if I would have a better chance of writing this novel if I stay sick. There always seems to be some malady making the rounds of my office, with my coworkers bringing in the disease of the day that their kids brought home from school and daycare.
But I’m not complaining. I want to support myself as a writer, and that apparently means exposing myself to as many germs as possible.
So please don’t tell me to feel better in the comments section. That’s just going to screw with my new and improved creative process…