Alright Brain, you don’t like me, and I don’t like you. But let’s just do this, and I can get back to killing you with beer.

I've put myself pretty much on lockdown until I finish writing my PAX East keynote, because my brain really isn't making it easy to convert my concepts and ideas into a proper presentation that is both thoughtful and entertaining.

I've given myself next Wednesday as the ultimate deadline, because I need to hang a Sword of Damocles over my head if I'm going to get anything done. This provides great motivation and helps with the fucos, but with that helpful pressure I also get some stressful pressure that occasionally leads to things like this coming out of my head:

Gaming played a fundamental role in making me the person I am today, privately and professionately

I meant to write professionally, but obviously my brain thought it would be hilarious to make me feel stupid by making up a word. I also thought this was hilarious (after I corrected it) so I sent it to my editor with the following note: Someday, we're going to laugh about this. For you, that day is probably now. For me, it's next Wednesday.

Andrew replied: Wil, I would never laugh at you. It would be unprofessionate.

I've said this before, but it bears repeating: Andrew and I have worked together on everything I've written in the last ten years that hasn't sucked. I wouldn't be nearly as successful as I am without his Red Pen of Doom, and after all this time together, I understand why authors will go through the fires of Hell to stay with an editor.