“I'm dying. Of overwork.”When I read those sentences by Kache, I thought of all the late nights I spent creating just yet another product idea, a research deep-dive, a short story. I indulge with exhilaration but also feel the creeping exhaustion. It’s a good type of exhaustion. Almost romantic and evocative of the Renaissance. The hunger to unravel the world's secrets transformed sore wrists and weary eyes into marks of devotion—almost blissful in their ache. This is the paradox of our time: th...