Tequila Over Ice

During this time of year in Nashville, when it’s not yet stiflingly humid and the breeze is just enough to disrupt the immaculately quaffed, it’s impossible to be truly productive, so rather than fight the inevitable, I sit here, mustard-stained shirt and billowing shorts and all, sharing my unfounded judgement of the gainfully employed with several thousand dedicated readers. 

Days like today aren’t meant for Gary V style hustle porn. Days like today are meant for sipping tequila over ice and daydreaming, and when that gets boring, maybe writing for a bit, and when that gets boring, maybe reading for a bit, all the while replenishing said tequila over ice until the mosquitoes rear their irksome proboscises. Somehow, work gets done, and I’m about as far removed from the actuarial sciences as possible. 

Some days, I doubt every decision I’ve ever made. But not today, and on the occasions when there’s a break in the proverbial clouds, it feels good celebrating the road less traveled.