This week sucked. There was just a shadow cast over it from the very beginning. It’s not that I haven’t been productive, or that anything particularly bad happened. But a lot of really annoying little things happened, and just kept happening, like a black Sisyphean snowball. Things that normally take 5 minutes to do took 2 hours. Other people were getting in my way. And I wasn’t getting any enjoyment out of what I was doing. The last one is really important to me—it’s something that I have slaved and sacrificed in order to gain, and I am not going gently back into that miserable night.
I’m a bit of an early bird. There are definitely earlier birds than me, but they can have it. I don’t want to watch the sun rise out of complete darkness, it feels like a vampire awaiting death. I find it depressing. I had an English teacher in high school who asked us every day, “Did you see the sun rise this morning?” I wanted to tell her to shove it, I like my morning dreams too much.
By Wednesday evening, I was in such a foul mood I was so ready to just count the whole week a waste of time and wait for the weekend or Monday to start over. But instead, I woke up Thursday morning, had my coffee, and found myself recording at 9am sharp. By 9:13, I had already gotten what I’d spent hours trying to get the rest of the week. I wasn’t even particularly sharp at the moment, even a bit hazy in fact, and I think that it worked to my advantage. At 9:14, I was whoo-hooing and dancing my way around the house, ready to spend the rest of the day just steadily killing it. And I did. So forget humpday—it’s all about Thursday morning.
I still remember the feeling I had when I finished writing my first song. It was incredibly underwhelming, and I was so surprised by that. It took a long time to figure out that the real reward is the work, not the product. This week, I feel like I reinforced something else I’ve learned—that the way you feel doesn’t always dictate the quality of your efforts. Paul Simon said it once, that “feeling” creative has very little to do with “being” creative. Of course, the product is important, and that’s why I’m not a professional baseball player. I was always afraid I would hurt my fingers, and I had piano lessons to practice for. Plus, I can’t field for shit.