Your ambition is just impatience with a costume change.

Ambition, in your case, is not a grand vision. It is impatience that has learned to dress itself up for company. You call it drive because saying you cannot sit still and want the good bits now sounds less flattering at a dinner party. The costume change is the language you wrap around it. The five year plan you will abandon by Thursday. The side project you mention before it exists. The noble restlessness you mistake for talent. Strip off the blazer and there is no strategy underneath, only a toddler banging a spoon and calling it a symphony. You are not a visionary. You are a restless mediocrity with a diary and a mirror. This is why your ambition so rarely survives contact with a calendar. It was never a direction, just an itch in a better outfit. The quote lands hardest in the small hours, when you announce that you are going to change everything and then spend forty minutes refreshing a screen. That is not momentum. That is impatience wearing your clothes, hoping nobody notices the fit. And nobody does, mostly because they stopped watching you some time ago.