Being Tired
During the day, I get so many ideas about articles I want to write. I want to write about …
The fact that every morning at the gym, there are more women on the squat racks then men.
The abandoned houses in Japan. You can literally just have one.
America and the economy.
China and the economy.
What I’m learning at Muay Thai every week.
The coming agricultural boom in Argentina.
So much more.
But by the time I have even one minute to sit at the computer and write, I’m exhausted.
Being a parent is hard. I remember when I was working for Mike Thornton, he said “there’s nothing harder than raising kids.” I’m starting to see what he meant.
Yes, it’s the fact that the little dude keeps walking in our room at one in the morning. Yes, it’s the dropping him off and picking him up and learning about how some kid bit him.
But it’s also about letting him get out of the stroller in our afternoon walks, and learning the patience to let him be a little kid and frolic his way down the sidewalk even though he’s slow af.
Or it’s that he said “pooooppiieeeee” every 5 minutes because he knows we have to respond.
It’s wild man. By this time every night, my brain is so frazzled I can’t think of anything else.
Feels good.