Work is work.

My older daughter is quite precocious. She's not yet halfway through her Doctoral program in Clinical Psychology and she is already on the way to having her second paper published. Today she's presenting her work to the entire school--faculty and students alike.

As you'd suspect, leading up to her presentation Sarah's been a little anxious. She has a lot riding on this and wants things to go well. She feels the pressure, so she's been fastidious and diligent getting everything just right. Or as right as it can be.

In other words, she's doing the work she needs to do.

At work, my partner and I are at the outset of creating a new television campaign. Around this there's been the usual swirl of bullshit of "the account's in trouble" ilk.

Accompanying that have been a veritable horde of meetings, a flood of powerpoints and a raft of emails.

Meanwhile my partner has carefully delineated from our "concepting" about eight directions that may be worth exploring. Along the way there might be eight more.

But first, we have to put pen to paper and see what works. See if we can take a thought or observation and turn it into something good.

There are two basic forms of human endeavor.

Talking about it. And doing it.

Only one counts.