I don’t take shortcuts anymore. I used to. I used to think half-assed was more than good enough. I used to do as little as possible to get the most I could. But I don’t do that anymore. I can’t. It’s not who I am. But it took me awhile to learn that.
I go all in now. If I’m gonna do something, I do it right — or at least I do it really hard and hope it’s right. It’s the way I’m wired and the way I was brought up.
Oh, and I don’t have a shutoff switch. There’s that. Productive and destructive. Sometimes at the same time.
I see so many people just mailing it in. They seem to be aimlessly wandering through life. Staring off into nothingness waiting for something to happen. Or they do just enough to get by and move on.
Not me. Just enough is never good enough. And good enough just doesn’t cut it.
Even if I’m doing something irresponsible I don’t like to half-ass it. Like for instance, drinking. If I’m in the right mood, I don’t fuck around man. I get it done. I’ve learned that approach can backfire real quick-like, but sometimes I do it anyway. Because I do.
One of my favorite quotes comes from a work client from a few years back. A bunch of us were at the bar, drinking after a long day of boring seminars and other useless business stuff we’ll never use in real life. He was ready to get drunk. His mantra for that evening: “I didn’t come here to get no haircut.”
A bit redneck, yes. Somewhat incoherent and imprecise, sure. But to me it meant “This is no time to fuck around. Let’s do this!” And he proceeded to drink himself into oblivion.
He showed up for day two of the seminar more than a little green, smelling of Jameson, but I tell you what, he set a goal and accomplished the shit out of it — no doubt, no question. I admire that. Maybe I shouldn’t. But I do.
Going all in with all you got is better when the goal and the outcome are of a more positive and productive nature than annihilating yourself at a bar. But the concept is still the same to me: don't do it unless you plan to really give it.
Don’t ever settle for good enough. Maybe know where your shutoff switch is, just in case you need it, but don’t ever half-ass it. You’re better than that.
Maybe I care too much about shit I shouldn’t care so much about. Maybe I don’t know when to give up. Maybe I think too much. Maybe it’s cutting years off my life. Probably.
I might not always get far, and I might fuck up and fail more often than not, but I’m always gonna go all in on my way there.
I have to. For me.
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