You can sleep when you're dead... right?


For the third time in as many weeks, I heard a horrific story of someone relatively young just going about their merry way and then falling out. Dead. Heart attack. Gone. Called home. Just. Like. That. 

LeDamn! What thing did these three people have in common? Work, work, work, grind, grind, grind. We've become a culture that admires and reveres hard work over all else. The pastor spoke on it the other day. He called it, "Grind Nation" - we are a people on the grind, powered by caffeine and energy bars.

But at the detriment of what? Our health? Loved ones? Our future?

I recall working at Huge Consulting Co Inc and literally pausing in the middle of a conference call to tell everybody to cut out early. We were exhausted. We were working 90 - 100 hour weeks. Some of us hadn't spent more than a few minutes with our families or significant others in over 60 days. Someone said, "What about the client?" I responded, "Next week is soon enough. No one is putting 'they worked so hard' on your gravestone." 

Let's take a timeout for a blast from the past. Here's Vertical Hold with a young Angie Stone singing - Seems You're Just Too Busy...


I was noticing on Twitter the other day just how many people were announcing that they were still at work at some crazy hour or got in early or hadn't eaten or were too tired to do anything more than fire off a tweet and drop comatose into their beds. 

Lord knows I'm guilty of staying up trying to finish "just one last thing" and the next thing I know, it's 3:00 in the morning. [Author guiltily squints across room to see clock read out 2:47am - my bad] In my defense, I'm a creative person. I have to follow the dictates of my sometimey Muse. I wish I was the sort of writer who could pop on the computer at 8:00am, type up a few chapters and shut it down around four. But no, my divalicious Muse wants to get froggy round midnight. That heffa is silent as a mug all diggity damn day but just let me lay my head on a pillow and there she goes whispering, "You know what would be a great blog topic? Oh, and I figured out what was wrong with chapter seventeen. Get up! You can sleep when you're dead."

No need to tell Le Muse Miserable that stress caused by exhaustion and inability to turn one's brain off and decompress is a leading cause of stroke and other death-inducing ailments... she doesn't care.

But you should. I'm all for hustle, my friends. Life is short and I get it - you've got to get it in while the getting is good. Just make sure you don't look back in five, ten, fifteen years (if life lasts) to realize you have nothing but a slamming resume to show for it. Life happens. Grab you some.

I'm off to Florida to visit BougieSis for a week. I may have some guest posts this week. I may jot a thought or two myself, we'll just see how it goes. Now everybody get out there and enjoy some of the weekend, won't you?