THIS ISSUE IS PRESENTED BY
Good Morning/Nite Dazees,
Sometimes the hardest thing for me to do is feel like I've earned the right to celebrate myself.
I'll hit a goal, feel good for five minutes, then move the finish line because I feel behind. It's sick. Do you do that shit too? What the fuck is wrong with us?
That's why Labor Day weekend is my favorite time of year. It's my birthday week and the one time I let myself look back at my successes instead of focusing on what I did wrong.
I know I'm the shit. I know I'm one of the greatest creatives of all time. It's just easy to forget when I'm obsessing over deadlines and budgets.
This is my week. I’m eating what I want, going where I want, buying shit I probably don’t need and popping my shit.
Find your week. We don't need somebody else's applause to be proud of ourselves.
Lucky number this week: 52
52 weeks in a year. Taking a few days inside one of them to celebrate yourself isn't selfish. It's fucking mandatory.
Proceed with caution to the most important 800 words of your week.
-Joey
