I met a man today who asked me what I did for a living. I told him I was a comedian, and he asked, “Well, what do you want to do when you grow up?”
A bit insulted, I replied, “I’m doing it.”
“You can’t possibly be a comedian and consider yourself a grown up,” he said.
“Well, it’s how I pay my grown up mortgage…” I said. And I guess that’s all that really matters. There’s no need for me to defend what I do to this ass. There are millions of people who aren’t fortunate enough and/or legitimately can’t afford to do what they love for a living. But there are also people who just don’t have the balls to follow their dreams and instead choose to poo poo on everyone else’s.
I know lots of comedians who say they’ve known what they wanted to be since they were kids. Not me. If you’d asked me what I wanted to do with my life when I was growing up — as recently as 8 or 9 years ago even — I may have said a writer, a nurse, a teacher, a TV producer… Never in a million years could I have imagined I’d be doing this, but now that I am, I can’t imagine doing anything else. I love my job, and even during the rough periods, I feel like I made the right decision.
So BooHissHiss, Mister. You will not steal my joy.
The end.