...Master of None.
Some days I look over the stuff I’ve written and think that it’s all crap.
It depends on the mood I’m in. It’s particularly bad when I’m tired;
I’ll read over an old blog entry and find it clunky and overwritten.
I am my own worst critic. Part of the problem is I see myself as a bit
of a blagger. I never really specialised in anything; I trained as an actor,
but plowed more of my energy into my music at the time. In recent years, I’ve
put more emphasis on my comedy, but never felt that I’ve given it enough
attention.
It’s frustrating to think that if I’d focused on one career path, I
might have got a little closer to a more satisfying end result. I could be a
better actor, musician, comedian or writer if I hadn’t attempted any of the
others options on the list. It’s harder to be satisfied in an achievement if
you neglect your other passions in the process.
My problem is I get bored too easily. I prefer to keep moving; if I do
too much of one thing, I soon get fed up with it.
If nothing else, I’m pleased that I’ve kept writing. It’s felt good to
see something through. If nothing else, I should get top marks for effort. It’s also getting easier the more I do it.
It's also been good to keep
my brain cells ticking over.
(That’s right: my brain is made of clockwork.)
