Emotion Denied

I realized last night that I am sick of my shtick. It's comfortable to keep repeating the same jokes to ensure the same laughs, but as I was telling them on stage last night, I was aware that I was getting very tired of them. If I hear myself say that I retired after practicing law for thirty years one more time, I just might shoot myself in the head. I've been toying with the idea of not talking about practicing law at all, but I'm afraid that I would remove a piece of the puzzle that comprises me and, therefore, my act. Maybe I'll mention that I'm a retired lawyer in passing and move on.
My plan now is to write, write, write and practice, practice, practice. I've written a few new jokes in the past few weeks which I incorporated into my act, but that's not enough. I also think that my delivery has gotten a little flat and this might have to do with the repetition of the same old same old.
There is one other problem that may be bigger and has nothing to do with the age of the material or it's repetition. It's when life is dicey on a personal level, but I have to deliver the goods publicly with a wry smile. My dad, who is in his mid-80's became very ill very recently and I've been  concerned terribly for him and my mom. Compartmentalization always has been difficult for me and, admittedly, it was a real challenge during my day-to-day lawyering. Most of the time, I had the luxury of
going into my office and closing the door; now my office is a stage and I can't tell my audience, ala Greta Garbo, that "I vant to be alone" (misspelling intentional, emphasis added, ibid. supra, ipsi dixit).
Someone once told me that I could use a bigger dose of denial and that's probably true.
So, my comedy goals now are to write, write, write, practice, practice, practice and deny, deny, deny.