Sometimes It's a Grind

Writing teaches you something, maybe not ever single day, but most of them. 


At the least, it's a constant reminder that nothing that matters is going to come easy to you. Today was an exercise in grinding, which is defined as: 

staying "on the grind" means to work hard, always be hustling, or otherwise engaged in money-making or woman-procuring activities. I would add to this substantial definition that is also lacks fun or entertainment, as you have to constantly be doing it. I didn't want to finish today, at the hour mark, I would have rather plucked my eye lashes out, one by one. My eyelids are still there though, and I got done with the hour. Was the writing good? Yeah, I think so--I put my maximum effort into it, even though I would have rather been watching porn or something other equally stimulating activity. And that's the point, isn't it? That even when something inside of you is saying put the pen down, drop the basketball, or whatever else your passion may be--you stay there and you finish.  John D. Rockefeller found his first job by simple grinding. 6 days a week, for ten hours a day, he walked to every business in his town. He asked to speak to the top man at the business, was denied, and then went on to tell whoever the hell was standing in front of him that he was an accountant and wanted work. He did this for six weeks. Six. Fucking. Weeks. 60 hour weeks.  When he ran out of businesses, the joker went right back to the first business he started at. There was no shame, no relenting--but I imagine there were times when thought it was fruitless, you know, maybe on that sixth week an hour before he found his job. Bet he was wondering just what in the hell he was doing outside, in a full suit, no less, and asking the same people he had already seen for work. I'm not John D. Rockefeller, and neither are you. That doesn't mean we can't learn a thing or two from him. 2 more hours closer to my goal.