I have a list for everything. Movies I love. Albums ranked by mood. A list of words that sound cool.

A separate note dedicated entirely to emojis Apple should've added years ago (still waiting on "lip bite" and "suppressed laugh").

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And yet, I will absolutely be packing for my flight three hours before takeoff.

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I'm a perfectionist. Every strand of hair, perfectly masked. Every shadow at the right opacity, every highlight sitting exactly where it should.

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And yet, I'll send the final file at 11:58pm. 

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Deep in conversation with a stranger at afters, drinks in hand, cigarette lit — from whether we're living in a simulation, to why the Comic Sans debate says more about the designers than it does about the font.

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And yet, fully unavailable, rotting on the couch with my pug. There is no in-between. No "sure, I can drop by for one bot."

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Turns out, this is a pretty useful way to be a Creative.

Good work lives in the extremes. The brief that needed a month of thinking and the one that clicked in twenty minutes. The idea built from a hundred references and the one that came from absolutely nowhere. 

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Rotting on the couch is part of the process. So is the cigarette at afters. That's where the good stuff lives.