Here is another thought experiment for you: what would be a perfect day?
Lou Reed sang it, it was more of a call to escapism than a perfect day:
Just a perfect day,
You made me forget myself
I thought I was someone else,
What's a perfect day anyway? I'd argue it's a day you can't improve. And since days are the unit of life, they should fit in the bigger picture. A balance between delayed gratification and epicureanism.
It's 6 AM. The sun is rising, so do I. I reach my desk to shut down the alarm clock. Some sportswear has been placed methodically on a chair. I put it on and head downstairs.
The fresh morning air clears my clouded mind. I move some weight plates to the garden and start my workout. A fire slowly builds up in my guts, it's my metabolism soaring. I achieve my session with some stretching exercises. An hour went by.
I take a shower, put some clothes on, and prepare breakfast. Origano eggs with salt and pepper. Some water and a banana on the side.
I head back upstairs. I slowly sit on my bed, cross my legs, and switch on my phone to begin a 10-minute meditation session. I then make my bed.
Both mind and body are now rested and cleansed.
It's time to get stuff done, to grow and reach new heights. I go through a deep work session from 8 AM to 12 AM. I do offline writing first, for about an hour. Then I push at least two changes to my git repositories.
By 11 AM I'm done with the most important tasks of the day and I can start tackling the urgent ones. I open Slack. Then Twitter and my email account. Then my monitoring tools. I log all the tickets, answer any inquiry my users might have sent. I fix urgent bugs until hunger kicks in, if there are any. Otherwise, I just keep on shipping items from my to-do lists.
It's around noon and my stomach is crying for help. I have a light lunch, just enough to tame the hunger. I take news from my family.
... to be continued tomorrow