All this talk of super efficient 4 hour work days and 4 day work weeks sparked an Olympian flame of inspiration in my humble but generously sized cranium. As my brain sloshed side to side during my exercise routine, I thought with deep intensity, “if we can achieve inbox zero, why not work week zero?”

It was decided. I was going to achieve the zero hour work week. Being the early adopter that I am (because ideas are like orphans who need a home and I am not heartless), I knew I would need to use all of the tools at my disposal to achieve this feet. Tools like sticky notes and interns and maybe that puzzle game with the candy that everyone’s playing. Isn’t that just Bejeweled? We would find out when I reached peak work zero.

Bear in mind, when I founded my first internet startup, I was practically still in diapers (and sometimes literally!) and didn’t even know how to drink an alcohol or how touch a booby like a gentleman. But I knew that startup founders like Steven P. Jobs and Walt P. Disney and Mark “Ducky” Zuckerberg didn’t let things like inexperience stop them from creating beauty. And simplicity. And authenticity. These were the modicums I learned from my heroes. Now I was going to put them to use. To quote Michael Jordan, founder of the Bulls Basketball Team, “Just do it.”

Now, usually I work around 40 hours per week. How was I going to be so efficient that the amount of work I did approached zero as efficiency approached infinity? Coffee? Maybe. Quinoa? Probably (and that’s what she said, haha!). I’d definitely need some kind of brain food (although it makes you wonder: when you eat too much brain food, where does the brain poop go?). Clearly I needed some brain nutrients followed by a brain enema, or “bronie” as it’s known in the startup community.

It was time for brass tacks, but in this case, the tacks needed to be a premium, efficient material like carbon fiber. If I cut my work week in half every seven days, starting at 40, then 20 the next week, then 10, I would keep halving my hours but would never reach zero. But then I realized what only New Yorkers know well: zeros are round,like a pizza pie, and I could cut my work week like a pizza. And then each work slice could be folded in half and eaten more efficiently on a paper plate “New York Pizza Style.” I was already cutting my work week with these simple and ancient Italian geometric pizza eating techniques.

I quickly learned what my hero Hiya Miyazaki knew: to stop answering emails, you must be spirited away in the wind. That might sound like a meaningless phosphorism, but once you have some brain food and big mental bowel movement, you just might get it yourself ;)

And finally I did it: I reached work week zero. But there was a problem. My inbox zero became inbox big number with too many zeroes! (Zeroes at the end of the number because it was big.) Inbox zero turned out to be mutually exclusive with working zero. But I can’t say the feeling was mutual. Myself, I had become a zero, and my bank account was zero. It was a real zeronado. I had eaten so much pizza for nothing.

Had I achieved a platonic ideal? Maybe. Only history can say. When Steven P. Jobs ate his first apple with Steve Wozznak, all he had was a garage and a dream. “How can we make a billion dollar computer company even though computers don’t exist yet?” he pondered, as he chewed that apple. He held the apple up to the light and said “That’s it! Apple Computers!” and history we made. Then he acted, just like I did.

Sometimes all you need is a guiding hand. Like Earnest Hemmingway famously said in Paris during the “1920s” era, “write like a drunkard but edit like a sober guy.” And the efficiency of his language shook the world like a boxing ring. Efficiency that you can use in your every day living. Maybe you can too. Just don’t be a zero ;)