It’s Not the End of the World, by Michael Davis – Straight No Chaser #276 | @MDWorld

July 27, 2012 Michael Davis 1 Comment

…it just felt that way.

Since last Saturday night I have not done one ounce of work. No writing, no art, no emailing and no meetings.

I’ve also done no cleaning, no organizing, no planning, no plotting, no bitching and no obsessing.

As a workaholic not being able to work is a horror that visits me rarely. As a neat freak not being able to clean and organize my home, office and studio is a dreadfulness that prevents me thinking clearly.

I consider my work ethic and neat fetish both vices. I love doing both so much calling them anything other than vices just doesn’t work for me. My other vices are threesomes, uninhibited sex for three days straight and time travel.

I rarely take vacations. In fact that little factual tidbit was a major reason my marriage fell apart. I’d rather work than hang out with my stunningly beautiful ex-wife on an island for a week.

I know, I have issues.

When I did take vacations all I could think of was getting back home so I could work.

Like I said, issues.

This week I had a forced vacation. Last Saturday I was stuck with the mother of all migraines. This was emergency room pain. After Comic Con I always feel a bit exhausted but after a day of sleeping in my adrenalin kicks in fueled by all the deals I’ve done at Comic Con or the realization that Comic Con is over and I can just concentrate on my work.

I had one of my best Comic Con’s ever and there was plenty to be excited about, and excited I was. Instead of taking my usual day off, I dived into what I had to do, both new and what was already on my plate.

Everyday I ignored warning signs; something was clearly telling me that shit was about to get bad. That something is always a dull throb behind my right eye. On Saturday that dull throb I’d been telling myself was my imagination assured me it was anything but.

I’ll spare you the details, but the result was I spent the last five days not being able to do anything but pray for death.

Around 4 a.m. Thursday morning I felt fine. Just like that the pain was gone. So what did I do? I jumped the fuck up and got on my email.

I sent Mike Gold and my lawyer an email and then I felt a tinge behind my right eye and I stopped. I’m a lot of things but I am not stupid so I stopped.

I thought about how I was out of pocket for a week and my world had not ended. Nothing so terrible happened that it fucked up a deal or created some other problem. I was OK with deadlines and in fact another book deal had closed.

I was prepared to not write this article but I spent all day just chilling out and the light throbbing behind my eye has gone. So at 11 p.m. I took to the Mac and here for your reading pleasure is my column.

Now for something corny; I realize it’s time for me to smell the roses and I really want to. I’ve been invited to Paris later this year and I hope I’m smart enough to take the time and go. I also hope that after business is done I’m smart enough to just take some time for me while I’m there.

I have heard that French girls LOVE Black men.

Too bad they smell.