I’ve been late to work more times than I can count lately. I’d say over the last 3 months, once my big project was finished and I was finally able to sleep again, my body just decided it’d rather stay in bed, possibly permanently. No yoga, no early-to-bed or early-to-rise, either.
So, after becoming thoroughly disgusted with myself and my lack of gumption, I went the old-fashioned route and made a bet with myself. Habits apparently take 21 days to take hold, so if I can wake up at 6 am or earlier for the next 21 days, I can treat myself to a kickass dinner out and about.
We’re really good at justifying straying from our budget in order to pay for a good meal, even if justifying means we just need to spend some alone time out of the house. So, the catch: if I don’t somehow manage to get my ass out of bed by that ungodly hour (weekends count, too), or end up pulling my infamous move, the get-out-of-bed-reset-the-alarm-go-back-to-bed routine, the 21 days start all over. AND, if the hubs wants to spontaneously spend some ‘us time’ at the sushi bar, I have to politely decline if I haven’t held up my end of the bargain.
I’m thinking this will a) drastically cut back on those unplanned-for chunks out of our budget that we can never really explain when we sit down to do the bills; b) get me to work on time and not fired in favor of that young whippersnapper who turned in her resume this week, called in a timely manner and directed us to her online portfolio all gumption-like; c) get me back into writing, because I’m the only one on this ‘watch the sun come up’ bender, which is giving me some great quiet & alone time I haven’t had in a while.
So, it’s 8 AM. Sun is up, cup of tea is down, New Year’s cards are out, bills are organized, yoga class time is checked, news is read, stories are edited, blogs are caught up on. Christ, I need a nap.