Some mornings I feel unprepared — for nothing in particular. I just get this engulfing feeling of not being ready for my own life.

Times like this I start writing — without a topic, without a theme. I don’t know what I really want to pass across. Hell, I’m not even sure who I’m writing for. I’ll be the first to admit this is a brain dump.

You can catch me doling out chunks of my day-to-day on Snapchat, writing about my process here on Medium and tweeting about everything in between. I battle with that decision — sharing my life. I start to worry if I’m doing things because I want to, or because I want people to see I’m doing them.

I concluded that I do things for both reasons, and one doesn’t invalidate the other or make it less genuine. And because I don’t want to second-guess my intentions in the future, I made a quick litmus test for my life.

Would I do this thing if I couldn’t tell anyone about it?

Would I write this if you weren’t going to read? Probably without a title, but yes. Definitely with less refinement and fewer words, but yes.

So yeah, random person reading this… some mornings I feel unprepared.

On occasion, I can trace why I feel unprepared. Every now and again, it’s in the first thing I consume after I wake up — the first thing I look at. Emails, Slack, Snapchat, Twitter.

My starting mood is entirely dependent on what I find, what I’m reminded of. When it’s pending work, I’m overwhelmed. Overwhelmed sometimes by where I want to be; other times by my complete oblivion of where I want to be. Sometimes, I’m simply stumped by what I have to do.

When I wake up to flattery and compliments, I’m overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the idea that I need to keep up this life, for me, for them — my audience. No matter how many times I say I don’t feel special, my friends hear a different thing — a faux humility — and they wave me off.

Other times, my sobriety is brought on by listening to other people and/or watching their lives — people that have something I want.

Some mornings, I wake up feeling unprepared. Then I go back to bed. Next time I wake up, I’m not thinking of how far I need to go, or how far I am, or if I’m getting it right. When I wake up again, I’m only thinking of what I need to do right now.

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