In May I moved out of the house I shared with my ex. It was a great spot, furnished beautifully, and spacious—a rare luxury for downtown San Francisco. The heartache of leaving a relationship of three years was compounded by the anchorless feeling of no longer having a place to call “home.” For the first few weeks I hauled several bags and containers from one friend’s apartment to another, silently cursing each time I had to repack all my worldly belongings and lug them to another location. Then something amazing happened…
I 80/20’d my life and learned the joy of living with less…
There’s a tea house in the heart of San Francisco’s South of Market area called Samovar. It’s known to locals and conference-goers alike for its zen atmosphere, spectacular views, and great grub.
Living in the heart of Silicon Valley’s frantic “I work 12 hours a day, drink a ton of coffee and have no social life—but my startup is crushing it“ society, I get exposed to a lot of people who literally do nothing but work all the time.
Up until about 3 months ago, I was one of those people.
My email inbox has been threatening my very existence as of late.
There are a lot of “isms” floating around lately: