Too Hard

As a teenager, my father would occasionally joke and call me “One-Trip Johnny.” This particular nickname came about every time my mother would return from the grocery store and ask for my help bringing in the groceries from the car. No matter how many bags there were, I would always get them all in one trip.

My parents would laugh, baffled at how much I would strain and struggle and inflict pain on my hands, arms and back to haul in all these bags in one go. But to me, it made perfect sense – and still does. Maximum effort, minimum time.

Some people think of that mentality as “working too hard.” But that’s only because they’re looking at a snapshot. The intense moment. The moments surrounding it – moments doing what I want, not hauling two bags of groceries at a time – you don’t see those.

I put my work where I want it, so I can have my time where I want it, too.

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