I’m so going to get spanked for this…
If you remember, I started the year with some nice productivity goals. My plan was to work with an eye on a very financially lucrative “Target”, but understanding that I’m only human, attempt to at least meet the “Lazy” level. In any case, under no circumstance whatsoever, should I go below “Minimum”.
So the weeks start to roll and I’m all goodie-goodie and [wink] don’t let myself indulge on non-billable activities unless I’m on some sort of track to meet the Target. But the truth is that despite all my efforts, I’m really much closer to something between Lazy and Minimum. So, at some point I realize that Target ain’t happening and I reach for the Lazy level, I hug it, and ride it as best as I can until about the time when the first trimester of pregnancy hits me hard, knocks me unconscious and throws me to hell. So I drag my wounded body to that safe Minimum level, and I hold on to it with my life.
You’d think that the arrival of the glorious second trimester would’ve given me the energy to pump it up and reach back for Target, or ok: at least Lazy, since Target seems so unachievable at that point. However, my project hits some rocky road and leaves me idle for a few weeks. Still, I manage to keep some decency and attempt to climb back to Minimum.
But that all goes out the window the minute we find out that we’re having a boy and get a crib… While my once beautiful belly button begins to show its last days as an innie, I indulge on a strong natural urge that — strangely — makes me forget all about my carefully planned and charted financial goals: I nest!