I am sitting in my hotel room in Kansas City. It’s 12:45 am to my body but 11:45 pm to Missourians. I think. Time zone math is not a strength.
I had one of those great days where you work your butt off, you talk, listen, lead and learn, and you are firing on all cylinders. You are exhausted but not yet annoying to other people (except for the lady in Marriott Guest Services, who had to practically put my fingers on the keyboard to hook me up to the internet).
Work is good. Working to near exhaustion, some of the time, is good. It feels good. Like a workout where you pushed yourself beyond your expected stopping point, pushing your brain and your relational ability (mine is sometimes a bit on the anemic side) is a “good kind of hurt.”
I’m having a “good kind of hurt” day. If this was a billable hour day from law firm times of yesteryear, I would have brought in a lot of money. Instead, my almost 17 hour day has brought me something much more meaningful and lasting–purpose and a professional workout for the brain. And unlike my billable hour days, there is no hate at the end of the day.
Except maybe in the heart of the lady at Marriott Guest Services.