Sick, Grieving, and Productive

 

 

I woke up sick Thursday morning — the same evening my friend Robert wanted me to go out with him so he could do a stand-up comedy set.


He’s been doing comedy for a while now and was trying to pull me into it too. Not just to watch him, but to actually go on stage and do a set myself.


I told him I could come support him… but getting up on stage is a whole other level of support.


That’s part of why I started working on SpinR — an app I’m still building and debugging, trying to make it something real.


SpinR is a project management system designed to help organize and execute creative projects with precision. I’ve been using it to work on comedy by breaking a punchline into chunks, then building supporting bits for each chunk — essentially reverse-engineering a joke.


SpinR


So yes, I’m working on that. It’s in beta phase now and will eventually land in the Apple and Google app stores. I guess all of this helps keep my mind busy.


Comedy isn’t really what’s on my mind, but it feels like something cool and fun to try. One of those things you do once and can say you did it.


So I’ve been trying to write it. Understand it. Build toward it slowly.


But this week wasn’t built for comedy.


Not only did I get sick, I lost someone dear to me — someone I wrote about in one of my books. I took a screenshot of the page where she appears and sent it to her. I never received a reply.


Then my dad got a text.

She’s gone.


So now I’m sick and mourning at the same time.


Nothing about that combination says, “Yes, let’s go to an open mic and make people laugh.”


Instead, I’m home tonight with soup and medicine. Augmentin and Dexamethasone should knock out whatever’s in my body. My heart, though — that’s going to take longer.


I finished my tenth and final book early this morning — the 31st — right on time with my own OCD deadline. I was already up feeling horrible, so I figured I might as well be productive.


That completes three major bodies of work:

the Operating Without a Manual series,

The Book of Carlos (now on ebook and paperback, with audiobook coming soon),

and as of today, the I’m a Traumatized Human series is finally complete.




At the same time, I finally have both of my music artist pages up — Los Official and Carlitos (my European persona). I’ve even reconnected with some of my Bulgarian music people back in Sofia, which feels like a door reopening.


I even setup a storefront to cop my merch for my Los Official music: Los Official Merch


My producer has sent me the production for the song I wrote to honor my mother, and it sounds great. Now all that’s left is to schedule studio time and practice, practice, practice — as soon as my voice comes back to full strength.


I also received the proof copy of The Book of Carlos, which meant I got to hold it in my hands instead of only seeing it on a screen.




The Book of Carlos on Amazon



And that part hurts.


It hurts to have these accomplishments and not be able to share them with my mother.


Today hit in layers.

I miss Leilani. She wasn’t supposed to go. I still have some of her belongings in a Trader Joe’s bag I’ve been meaning to take to her. That hasn’t stopped being true for a single day.


I miss a lot of important people.

I especially miss my mom very much so. She should be here.


On top of that, I’m sicker than hell and slowed down, wrapped in blankets and tissues, coughing and sneezing. At least I’ve got my voice somewhat back.


What’s strange is that this is also the same season where I went from zero books in my life to ten books in one month. I didn’t plan a “record.” I was just trying to survive something by building something.


And today, in between coughing and resting, I opened a new digital art gallery and added work I created today — images that came from the same place as the writing: grief, faith, attention, and the feeling of being watched by time.


New digital art gallery:

https://reach.gallery/los

or

https://www.foundmyself.com/los



This isn’t a victory post.

It’s a reality post.


Missing my loved ones.

Being sick.

And still making something anyway.


All of it is part of the storm.



I know it probably looks like I’m doing a lot, and doing it fast. But I’m not playing catch-up so much as I’m doing everything I can do that actually does something for me.


I’m not overwhelmed.

This is my speed.


I’m not in competition with anyone else.

I’m in competition with time and with myself.


Life is short. And once you really realize that, you stop waiting. You get up and start doing whatever it is you feel you need to do — experience, become, create — as soon as you can. Because you never know when it’s your last moment here.


Get off your ass and make some moves!


Don’t be lying there wishing you had eaten Panang Curry.

Go out and eat it. Get the recipe. Make it.


Don’t let that be one of your last thoughts exiting this place.


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