Taking My Foot Off the Gas

Last week one of the only things on my mind was simple:

“I’m exhausted.”

Marco’s Brain

How am I this tired?

The thought swirled around in my head like tea leaves after a slow, methodical stir. It wasn’t exercise — my last gym visit was two weeks ago. Despite doing less, my body felt worse. Sluggish.

My neurons felt like burnt-out spark plugs. The connections were fried.
That heavy, slow brain fog made my eyes feel like they had weight to them.

Then darkness.

The sweet release of sleep.

I slept — but I didn’t feel rested.

The fatigue didn’t disappear. It just got replaced. . .

With guilt.

“Two less hours in your day.”

Even the voice in my head sounded tired of me.

A checklist of dreams and goals flickered through my mind — hours turning into days… weeks… months… and eventually years.

How much time had already slipped past me?

And if I did rest… would I just be falling further behind?

Dreams We Labeled Were Once Just Life

Things I used to think were boring — mundane — background noise in life…

…were becoming extraordinary.

Buying a house.
Meeting someone.
Having a family.

At some point, those stopped feeling like a natural progression and started feeling like luxury outcomes.

Like something you unlock — not something you arrive at.

The pipeline that carried people into adulthood didn’t just slow down…

It burst.

And a lot of us got spit out with it.

Sometimes I wonder — if I could zoom out and see reality from a different perspective, like Maddie at the end of Pantheon, maybe I could just choose a version of life where things worked out differently.

But that’s wishful thinking.

And sometimes the last thing you need is more of that.

It’s better to accept reality for what it is…

…and figure out how to move within it.

That’s when the thought hit me:

What if the best move right now isn’t to push harder…
but to take my foot off the gas?

Millennial Burnout

I’ve talked about being a Zillennial before — stuck between Millennial and Gen Z.

Old enough to remember what the path used to look like.
Young enough to feel like it’s no longer there.

Both generations share something though:

Burnout.

Not just from working hard — but from working hard and not seeing it translate into anything meaningful.

You can skip the TV.
Skip the avocado toast.
Skip the GPU. (Although GPU prices nowadays are too high)

And still feel like you’re not getting any closer to owning a home, building a family, or hitting the milestones that used to define progress.

The checkpoints are gone.

Or at least… they don’t feel reachable anymore.

Putting the “I” in A.I.

AI is a strange thing.

On one hand — it’s incredibly useful. It takes massive amounts of information and makes it digestible.

On the other — it feels personal in a way I didn’t expect.

I write a lot into AI.

A lot about my life.

My thoughts. My patterns. My habits.

And sometimes it reflects something back at me.

Not a perfect image.

More like a fuzzy, static version of myself.

The unsettling part isn’t what’s unclear.

It’s the parts that are.

The parts you instantly recognize… but don’t always want to admit.

Like noticing something about yourself that’s always been there —
but you’ve avoided looking at directly.

Who is Marco?

When I step back and look at myself from the outside, something becomes obvious:

I’ve tied my identity to output.

Productivity.
Creative work.
Skill acquisition.
Visible progress.

When I’m producing, I feel aligned.

When I’m not…

I feel like I’m slipping.

Rest doesn’t feel neutral.

It feels like regression.

Like I’m falling behind a version of myself I’m supposed to be chasing.

And maybe that’s the real problem.

Not that I’m not doing enough…

…but that I’ve made “doing” the only thing that gives me value.

At the same time, there’s another side of me.

Quieter.

I Miss Long Drives in the Countryside

The part that enjoys:

slow mornings
ambient noise
long drives
moments with no goal attached

Not optimizing.
Not tracking.
Not improving.
Just existing.

And instead of choosing between those two versions…

maybe what I actually need is to learn how to let them coexist.

Without one trying to erase the other.

Chasing Happiness (For Real This Time)

Looking at myself through that outside lens didn’t feel inspiring.

It felt… sad.

A person trading everything meaningful for:

metrics
money (and not having much of that)
validation
numbers on a screen (Or These)

That didn’t feel like a trade worth making.

So I made a quiet promise to myself:

Build a life around values — not just output.

I’ve already walked away from things that didn’t align with my values and beliefs.

Even when they paid well.

Even when it didn’t make sense on paper.

Because I knew something simple:

If I don’t make time to be happy now…

no amount of money later is going to fix that.

The Reality of Money

There’s a well-known study that suggests happiness plateaus around a certain income level.

Adjusted for today, that number sits closer to around six figures.

On paper, when I factor in my current situation…

I’m not that far off.

And yet—

it doesn’t feel like it.

Which tells me something important:

Money might matter.

But it’s not the whole equation.

This is the Situation… And?

Zillennials are in a tough position.

That part is real.

But sitting in that reality doesn’t change anything.

So the question becomes:

What do you actually do about it?

When I was sim racing, I thought the answer to getting faster was simple:

Push harder.

Drive at 100% all the time.

But that’s not how you improve.

The real skill…

is knowing when to brake.

My life felt like it was heading down another winding road.

Twists. Turns. Elevation changes.

And instead of flooring it again…

it felt like time to use that braking skill.

So I asked myself three questions:

• How do I define happiness?
• What do I want to become?
• What’s a realistic path to get there?

These weren’t questions I sat down and forced.

They just… surfaced.

Somewhere between napping, binge-watching, and a Warhammer 40k: Rogue Trader run—

something clicked.

A Direction, Not a Revelation

I like technology.
I like solving problems.
I like structured systems.

I like the idea of work that is:

organized
process-driven
less emotionally chaotic

And eventually — remote.

So I started looking into entry-level IT roles in the Seattle–Tacoma area.

Not as some dramatic life pivot.

Not as a “this changes everything” moment.

Just as something that…

makes sense.

Maybe That’s Enough

Here’s the thing.

Even if none of these thoughts led anywhere—

If I had just rested properly for once…

That still would’ve mattered.

Maybe I didn’t need a breakthrough.

Maybe I just needed to slow down long enough…

to hear myself think again.

Much Love,
LaidbackMarco