What I Want
I want to be famous enough to be Verified on Twitter, but not famous enough that I have to worry about my tweets coming back to bite me.
I want my children to have it tough as they grow up, so that they’re not too soft. I want to give them everything they ask for, just to see them smile.
I want to make my wife the happiest woman on Earth. I want to save some money. I want to go to Mars.
I want to use my life to make a difference to people. I want to help them. I want more free time.
I want to publish this book. I want to write the next one, that finishes this one’s story arc. I want to code up the scheduling and availability system my wife needs for work.
I want my back pain to go away, and my grinding shoulder, so I can work on getting back into shape. I want my father to have done something other than fight cancer for the past 11 years. I want to feel better about how lucky I am.
I want to win the lottery, and build a giant estate compound where I’ll live with my friends and race cars around my private racetrack. I want to spend my money responsibly.
I want to eat delicious things, all the time. I want to lose my gut.
I want to be happy, and healthy, and loving, and helpful, and awesome. And humble. But I can’t, so I’m just going to have to go on being me.