I’ve always prided myself on never missing deadlines.

Last week I was beyond burnt out, my colleagues and bosses entering that phase all workaholics recognize—that phase when everyone figures out your work ethic and starts taking advantage, piling everything on you.

I had so many projects, very little support, and I got most everything in on time. Except for one thing. I could have stayed up all night finishing it up, as I’ve done in the past. But I slept instead.

And it got done eventually, about three days after they had asked for it. And people still liked it. The world didn’t end.