I don’t feel like typing this right now. I’m writing this early Friday morning, after staying up late last night scheduling a post for 8am. This post won’t go live for three days. I could have rationalized my way into an extra hour of sleep.
But you can’t reason with a terrorist.
Which is basically what the lazy, complacent side of me is. It tries to shame me into giving up on important goals. (“Just face it — you’ll never write a book.”) It wants me to throw in the towel. (“It’s not worth all the effort.”) Or it deflates the potential impact of an opportunity. (“No one will care even if you do what you are passionate about.”)
But there’s something about shipping which scares away the demons of self-doubt and worry and lethargy.