People who are paid well to work from home, and yet they do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.
They binge TV shows, mindlessly scroll through Twitter, go to bed at 4am and wake up at 12pm.
And they feel ABSOLUTELY AWEFUL.
Are you one of them?
Read on.
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Every day you show up at the stand-up and report some vague progress you haven't achieved, you die inside a little more.
You've been thinking for weeks about coming clean to your boss, but you just can't. How can you face her? How can you admit to doing nothing for months?
You've drafted and deleted your resignation email several times already. Maybe you can still get it together?
You commit to get things done tomorrow.
But tomorrow comes and the enormity of what you need to do to catch up ... well ... it catches up.
You're stuck. You can't stay. You can't leave. You can't breathe.
Am I laying it on too thick?
Maybe. But I also have a way out.
Coming soon.
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There's this idea in the startup world that you can build a business by scratching your own itch.
That's just survivorship bias.
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It's true that a lot of successful products are like that. But many many more personal itches are not marketable, or are extremely expensive to market.
I paid with blood and tears for my pivot away from @wujuapp. Not literal blood, but lots of literal tears.
It's hard to realize you can't get people to use, let alone pay, for your baby project.
A vision of a life that doesn't depend on someone else's handouts or a daily 9-5 grind.
Here's how it's going so far.
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We want to build a life where our work is the best expression of who we are, where family, parenting, work and a loving relationship are intertwined into a whole greater than it's parts. A life of freedom, joy and passion, and yes - affluence.
We treat depression like this horrible disease that's very difficult to treat, requiring a combination of therapy, medication, meditation and God knows what else.
It's not. It's actually pretty simple.
You start with an emotion, say anger. And you realize (usually as a kid) that's it's not OK to feel it. Everyone tells you so. So you shove it out of the way, where it festers all the while leaving you convinced you don't ever actually feel anger.
Then you grow up and that festering ball of anger grows inside you, consuming ever more bits of your soul to feed itself. At some point you realize you don't feel anything anymore. You're a dead man (or woman) walking.