good intentions and all

I may be full of good ideas and good intentions, and be super-motivated to the point of being hyper (and I don't drink coffee), but it all cools down after a night's sleep.
I wanted to create a magazine named after the Dutch tulip mania of the 17th century whereby tulips were so valuable that they were sold individually, I wanted to write features and stories, get my brother to handle the technical side of things and be my illustrator.
Then I thought about marketing my brother's photography and his psychedelic illustrations to the hip Londoners out there roaming the vintage markets of Spitalfields, Camden and Portobello.
Then I thought, 'well, actually, I need to get a full-time well-paid job so I can move out of my parents' house' and then I started job-hunting seriously and guess what? My creativity stopped.
Today I thought about Poirot and the Orient Express, and how I'd love to go on such an adventure someday, probably. And that's how my day passed. By evening, I was eating the tortellini we'd made, wondering what happened to all my plans and my ambition. Gone to bed, most probably.