For 15 years I worked an office job at a local university. I mostly sat at desk in front of a computer, moved data around in databases, formatted correspondence, enabled migraines, all of which ensured years of continuing acupuncture and chiropracty. There were also meetings. Endless meetings. I get antsy at these things and my thoughts tend to drift. Eventually, to combat the ants and drift, I brought along a pad of paper and pen, continuing to work on whatever drawing I was working on at the last meeting or starting something new. Drawing helped to keep my focus at the meeting. It was my version of knitting, I suppose, and eventually got a drawing out of it, even if it was on lined legal pad. Sometimes I would bring along whatever colored pens and hilighters I could round up. The higher ups didn't seem to mind - they were quite encouraging, actually. The work of the office was generally stressful and fraught, and talk of any fun extracurricular activities was a welcome diversion. The drawings piled up in a folder. The count was above 60 when I quit.
Come to think of it, the drawing at meetings may have coincided with my return to making art after years of being primarily focused on music. Sometime in 2008 I needed surgery on the pinky of my left hand. The injury and then operation rendered me unable to play guitar for months. I was going a bit bonkers without a creative outlet - fretting over my inability to fret - so that's when I turned to drawing. It helped to satisfy the itch., working out many ideas that eventually weaved their way into my non-meeting pieces.
Not much of a superhero origin myth, is it?