The Simpsons writers room was famously a murderers' row.

But just because you're surrounded by geniuses doesn't mean you have to be a genius in the same way to still be brilliant.

I need that reminder. A lot, actually. It's the answer to the "what am I even doing here" energy that sneaks up on me more than I'd like to admit.

Sometimes you just need to cut that feeling with a laugh and a "doesn't matter."

This one line from The Simpsons might be my new shortcut for exactly that.

A bee bit my bottom. Now my bottom's big.

Like probably a million Simpsons lines, I had no idea about the story behind it - until Matt Groening told it on Conan's podcast.

Conan O'Brien, surrounded by some of the most talented and cerebrally funny writers in television history, had found his lane, re: by being entertaining to himself and possibly slightly annoying to everyone else in the room without them banishing him from the room because he would regularly come through with the funny.

The whole interview is full of stories about his antics. Lots of which never ended up in the show but made lunch a little sillier, and stuff like that. The assortment of stupid things he just did. The obscure bits he committed to and the obsessions he wouldn't let go.

They were working on an episode involving a bee sting. The writers were doing what great writers do - searching for the perfect line, something clever, something that lands just right, but nothing had clicked yet.

Conan had gotten stuck on an alliteration. Not for any high-brow reason. He just liked how it sounded coming out of his mouth.

He started doing it in Homer's voice to the group. Then he was acting it out. Unrelenting. Delighted with himself. Surrounded by people who were probably - possibly definitely - thinking this was too dumb to use. It was almost childish.

And yet, of course, it made its way into the episode.

Nobody had anything better, and it did make them laugh, even if it was Conan laughing the most.

I really admire the way he trusted his gut laugh. His sensibility for silly. He knew what he knew and the show was better for it.

For my fellow frequent impostors, write this down somewhere, too:

A bee bit my bottom. Now my bottom's big.

Doesn't matter how smart the room is. Sometimes the bit just works.