Mal had never had that problem. Sure, he might start two or three projects at a time, but they always got done. Perhaps because he'd learned life was short while still young- his mother's passing had happened when he was only thirteen- and he was determined to do something, be someone, before his time came.

"You just gotta manage yer time. Once you got that gig down pat, yer good t' go." Though he grinned, there was a hint of sadness on his face, remembering his mother, which reminded him of the more recent loss of his father. He played it down, ignored it, and focused on Travis instead, tipping the glass towards him. "Might take some practice, but you can do it." He took a sip of his rum, then got curious. "You workin' on anything now?"