I wake up between 7 and 8 in the morning. The red light on my Blackberry flashes and I check my email while I’m still in bed. Then it’s a short walk to my laptop.
The workday begins. And it’s intense. Not a leisurely day. Juggling to-do items, and nervous people who have never done a multi-city event before, and email – loads of email, which makes me remember I used to be creative in this job. Now I write email.
Chisel this on my tombstone: He wrote a shitload of email, and some were well written. My legacy.
As the day goes on, I eat breakfast and lunch at my desk. I take a couple of short breaks during the day, and I eat dinner with my family before going back to work until between 11 and midnight.
Tomorrow will be my 24th work day in a row. At least my schedule is easing to 11 and 12 hour days, but I am tired. And I think a lot about doing something else with the remaining hours of my life. I should be able to do better than this.
I dream of working at The Home Depot in the screws and bolts aisle, and telling customers the unique qualities of flatheads, phillips and square-drive heads – when to use galvanized, stainless steel, or deck screws – and when to give up and call a contractor.
I dream of simplicity and meaning.