I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

This week I am home alone (feel free to put your hands on your face and make a face like Macaulay Culkin). I did something I hardly ever do.

Nothing.

I sat on the couch and petted my cat. 

It is here where I learned why I love working on my next project. This might be reading or listening to a book, thinking of the next product I want to create, etc. 

When I'm not thinking about things coming in the future, I think about the past. 

I don't like to think about the past. 

I sat there and reality let me know that my Dad was really gone. The cards I had been dealt, were gone. Game over. 

I had a good old fashioned cry. 

It felt good in the end.

My cat was very confused.

I prefer to look forward, and see a picture of an improved life. One where I help people. One where I leave the planet a better place. 

I often fall asleep at my desk. I then get up, and go home. I bop till I drop in the immortal words of Rick Springsfield. 

I'm OK with that. 

Relaxation is over rated in my book. It doesn't compare to the adrenaline rush of new ideas, of creativity pulsing in my veins. No contest. 

I'll sleep when I'm dead. 

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