I recently spoke to a group looking to break into my profession. This meant I had to make sense of the nonsense that is my life, or at least make the career part sensible for other people.
A big part of science is replicable results. You don’t get to say you’ve done a real science until you can demonstrate your science unfolds the same way every time. (I may have a somewhat erroneous idea of the scientific method.)
I’m not sure how I got here. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t on purpose.
I went for a run, leaving the watch that tracks my progress at home. I’d already missed my March goal. I would have missed my February and January goals too, except I didn’t have any. But I was running more in March so when the app asked if I wanted to join the 100km club or whatever I said yes.
One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time.
Everyone on Linkedin is fighting some kind of shadow monster. Even Don Quixote tilted at actual windmills. I was going to make up a representative post, but when someone writes that Putin can’t stop them from posting growth hacks, and they’re being completely serious, what more can I add?
That the smell of cows drifting in the open window is indeed that of a living beast.
That I too am a living beast.
- from “Proposition” by Mark Wunderlich
When people told Demetri Martin to finish his law degree as a backup plan, he replied how is it a backup plan if I’m never going to use it?
Growing up I wanted to be someone else so badly I couldn’t enjoy the person I was.
And now I’m not sure I’m the right person for anything I have to do. Employee. Partner. Friend. Son. I have the distinct and persistent impression I’m doing everything wrong.
I look at all these certain people acting on their intentions and it blows my mind.
So far being an adult has meant:
Getting to eat whatever you want and it ruins your life.
Only running because you’re a) exercising or b) late.
The clearest sense you have of your moral compass is how much you tip.
You really like instructional videos for things you will never do.
It turns out you do need math and now it’s too late.
Suddenly I’m looking at my body and thinking it’s beautiful.
This makes sense.
I buy flowers for the table.
'Growing up I wanted to be someone else so badly I couldn’t enjoy the person I was.'
The irony. I so desperately wanted to be friends because you were so enigmatically cool, and I thought maybe it would rub off on me by association.