I know what you're thinking. I can just see each of you now, shaking your heads, saying "so much for schedules." "So much for daily updates." But it's not what it seems. Really. I've been ill. Dizziness, coughing, a smattering of fever. Even now, a little delirium persists.

So the past few days, I would spend 8 hours at least semi-functional at work, and then somehow, by the time I got home, I'd be too sick to spend an hour on my album.


On Wednesday, while teetering about at work, trying to last until the end of the day, I got an e-mail from my favorite self-help guru, Phillip J. Eby. This paragraph seems particularly appropriate:

And so, when you make excuses about circumstances "beyond your control", you might as well be bowing down and saying, "Yes, Master," to those circumstances, because you're sure as heck not the one in control.

It took me until today to come to terms with the fact that I was doing just that. I was using sickness as an excuse to keep from getting down to business. Just as I've been using my cough as an excuse to keep from recording vocals since November, just as not having my acoustic panels up was an excuse before that, and having too boomy a room before that. I've been using my circumstances as reasons to avoid doing the things I claim to want.

But knowing this is not enough. Even if I'm making myself feel worse than I actually am, even if, as I've recently theorized, my epic cough is mostly psychosomatic, what do I do about it? Do I plow through anyway? Can I make it happen in spite of what I've convinced myself are perfectly reasonable excuses?

Back to Eby:

But today, I want to tell you about just *one* simple, specific way that we smart people mess up our lives: We like to be "realistic".

Smart man. And he's right. Only by transcending the reasonable, the rational, the realistic, can we ever do anything truly great.