Why So Serious

I really wanted to be funny today.

I feel like this blog has been skewing serious, lately, and while there’s nothing wrong with that–in fact, I really enjoy writing about serious things that I care about–I’m kind of missing the levity and silliness. It’s just that the funny stories haven’t been sticking in my brain lately. They’re not lodging in the crevices of my mind, squatting in the synaptic gap as do more solemn discussions of what it means to carve out a life right now. There’s nothing WRONG with being serious, of course, but sometimes it just feels so DULL.

Blame it on the winter. Blame it on mountain of philosophical novels I have stacked at the foot of my bed at the moment. Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol (Mom and Dad, that’s a reference the kids’ll get, not a real concern). Blame it on the three-plus hours, three days a week, that I spend with my collaborators trying to write a show that’s darkly funny and poignant at the same time. Whatever I’ve got left over just isn’t really feeling the funny.

I’m tired, and outside it’s still cold and still gray, and the introvert in me wants to just find a pile of blankets to curl up in and hibernate until it’s sundress weather.

So I’m sorry if the laughs are lacking around here lately. If I know my pagan calendar right, they should be popping back up like tulips around Eastertime. Til then, I’ll try not to bring you down too much.

Or maybe I’ll just cross my fingers and hope that “Community” saves the day, like we always dreamed it would.

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