At Berklee, I'd get a piano room every night at 10pm until midnight, when they closed. Then I'd sleep from 1am to 7am, practice some more, and go to class.
I was quite driven.
Kind of like someone who really feels if they just work their ass off they can be the next Zuckerberg, 20 years ago, being a successful musician felt more attainable. It felt like if I just practiced my ass off, wrote a lot of great songs, and put myself where the action is, I could be successful.
That kind of "I can almost taste it" feeling is the most amazing motivation, isn't it?
My friends called me "the robot" because I never hung out, never partied, never sat around in the cafeteria eating with them. I'd just grab a peanut butter sandwich and get back to work. Couldn't waste a single minute on the road to success!