Or a mop. Or both. As I did for six hours yesterday. To clean off my back patio. Which is massive. Hence, the six hours.
This, even though I pay cleaners and landscapers and a pool guy to do all the upkeep for me.
How come? Well, work ethic. It’s what made me a millionaire.
And quite honestly? I’m scared of losing it. I never wanna get too comfy (lazy).
So every now and then, I look for not-so-fun projects to tackle.
The kind that take an entire day to complete. Where you work up a good sweat. And earn a few blisters. And your back starts b*tching at ya halfway through. And you consider stopping and “finishing it tomorrow” at least three times. But you don’t.
And when you’re done?
You put your hands on your hips and take in your handiwork. And you’re reminded of how powerful that whole pride thing is.
And lemme say: dinner that night tastes like clouds and candy canes. And your body’ll beg for bedtime by 8:30. And right before you crash, you’ll think: thank God I don’t have to do this sh*t every day.
Pride, meet Perspective. You two should get along just fine.