Last October I fell asleep at the wheel in traffic and drove into the back of the car in front of me.
Nobody was hurt.
It took me a long time to stop thinking about the version where somebody was.
I was setting up Peruvian Street Kitchen at the time, still running the dark kitchen for Simply Smashed, and taking Draper meetings on top of both.
Which meant the only window Mustafa and I could find each other in was six, seven in the morning, before service.
So I'd take those, work the kitchen through the day, and then pick the rest back up late into the night.
Every day, because there was no other way to fit it.
I was a bit proud of the hours at the time. That was the tell.
Because the thing I'd built only worked as long as I personally never stopped. That isn't a company, that's just me being a bottleneck with a logo on it.
And you don't fix a bottleneck by grinding harder, which was the only move I actually knew.
So we hired. And we cut the week in half: every client call stacked into Monday and Wednesday, the other three days left completely alone for building.
It sounds like nothing. It's the reason there are now whole days where I'm not the thing everyone is waiting on.
It's still early and it's still intense. But Draper doesn't run on how much sleep I got anymore.
P.S the guy I went into was called Adam. We swapped details there in the traffic and he couldn't have been nicer about it.