I tend to sleep too little and wake too early. Nights often stretch past midnight; mornings arrive around five-thirty or six. Usually I beg my automated assistant to bring the house online—lights, monitors, all of them—five for writing and building, seven if you count the workstation tied to the day job. By the second or third cup of coffee, the day has already begun.

Work runs from morning into the afternoon, managing GIS systems for a fiber telecom. It pays the bills, it’s remote, and it’s work I enjoy, even if it isn’t the thing that pulls at me. During breaks, I drift back to writing, to B. Georgi projects, or to whatever piece of home automation or system design refuses to leave my head.

Evenings slow the pace. My wife, [REDACTED], comes home; sometimes she naps, and dinner takes shape in stages. Some nights we walk the dog together. Some nights we settle in with a bit of television—often a K-drama. Later, the house quiets again. I return to my screens, writing, building, adjusting, and letting the day finally release what it’s been holding.
Then sleep, sometimes in my desk chair.