Big Cash Dreams and a Sick Death Wish

For about 2 months all I did was work. Every single day I checked my work email, and responded to stuff, and looked stuff up, and wrote stuff down in my stupid notebook filled with lists that I just keep making over and over again. Every day for 2 months averaging like 10 hours a day: I spent thinking about a fucking website.

And then it went live and there were a few things we needed to do in short order right after to keep things running smoothly. And then I spent 5 days recovering over Thanksgiving break. And then I went back to work and.

Nothing's urgent anymore. I get so many moments to be introspective and think about what to do next. 3 weeks ago things were driven by need. Do the most urgent thing first then the next urgent thing after that and then so on. And all the time keep checking for something newly urgent to show up that maybe trumps everything else.

Rinse. Repeat.

I complained about it because I felt like I lost all of my personal time. I couldn't sew or write notes or work out or make food for myself. I couldn't stage awesome self-portrait sessions and spend Sundays just looking out of windows. None of that.

But now that the craziness is gone I totally miss it. I'm at a loss. I want more.

I think that makes me a workaholic.

And I'm kind of kicking right now. It's not fun.

Yeah there's stuff to do, and I'm about to take this thing on that is supposed to be very challenging. But until that happens it's just me surveying the scene of what we just finished. And talking about stuff. Boring.

Tomorrow promises more spreadsheets and comparisons, and no smell of burning rubber for miles to come.

Blah.

Oh but the holidays are here. So I should be spending this free time buying presents on the interweb, yes? And shoring myself up. And preparing for winter.

I'm committed to tomorrow being the most exciting day I've had in a very long time. I'll let you know how that goes.