Killing it (Week 7: Exhaustion and Adrenaline)


Monday – launch one, two hours, fifty people, wow, full house, standing room only, congratulations, omfg, I’m so exhausted—you came—chocolates—thank you—awkward introductions—it’s all good.

Tuesday – a 12-hour Facebook party, how did I think this was a good idea? But it was—she’s so happy, and so am I.

Wednesday – radiostar—this actually isn’t so hard—a scattered afternoon because another reading in the evening—mom can you check this math assignment for me—I don’t have any clean socks—I kill it.

Thursday – I don’t want to get out of bed, honestly, but I do and then, all the things, the pace of the day doesn’t stop—community meeting in the evening—yes, take me for sheesha and then make me forget EVERYTHING for at least a few hours.

Friday – professional hat on, meeting face, sales girl—watch me go—oh fuck I forgot the books the business cards the notes—doesn’t matter, watch it go out of the ball park—sometimes all the stars align. But now I have to walk to the post office… and will you love me tomorrow?

Saturday – I’m just really really tired and I don’t want to do anything, but I have to set one more thing in motion. Two. Also, I have this other idea…

Sunday – No!


Actually… I kind of like that vague-blog above. It gives you a sense of the pace of the week, anyway, right?

It was a full week.

And I’m so fucking tired.

But also, very happy.

I am ridiculously, outrageous, goal-oriented. When I get things done… it feels really, really good.

Let go of the fruits, Arjuna? I don’t know. (Bhagavad Gita reference. Again.)

but maybe I should tell you…

No, actually, I won’t.



Wired for Story by Lisa Cron, which is brilliant.

Some stuff on branding which is boring as all hell and a book on disruptive marketing that is… well. Not particularly disruptive. Just… you know.

I don’t want to say boring.


Also, billionaire romances. Don’t ask. I have to. I said I would.




In my head.

On Monday, I’m going to sit down and let it flow.

I’m not, by the way, procrastinating. I’m damming.

You should try it.

Don’t do the thing you want to do for… one day… two… a week… a month.



Still three.


Fucking awful. Please take me to Cuba.



PS This:


The year started with a Monday; so does every week (Week 1: Transitions and Intentions)

Easier than you think, harder than I expected: a week in eleven stanzas (Week 2: Goodness and Selfishness)

A moody story (Week 3: Ebb and Flow)

Do it full out (Week 4: Passions and Outcomes)

The Buddha was a psychopath and other heresies (Week 5: No Cohesion)

A good week (Week 6: Execute, Regroup)