7:30a: I’ve learned over time that no matter where I am in the world my productivity is highest in the mornings. It’s still quiet (excepting the sounds of birds wildly twittering, roosters crowing, and some sort of bug humming in the treetops). There’s no ranchero music blasting from the cantina down the street. And there’s no movement in the shared courtyard. Even the dog is still stretched out, napping.
I tackle web page revisions, email marketing project review, new project timelines, and estimates, finishing before 11 a.m., which is lovely, particularly after a few very long workdays earlier in the week.
10:42a: I’m still in my pajamas. A large fan (appropriately called Cyclone) is blowing in my general direction. And I’m feeling productive, relaxed, and happy.
This is a huge departure from the anxiety I was battling yesterday. You see, after the whole London thing (which seriously needs to stop haunting me), I ended up spending about $2,000 of unexpected money and a whole bunch of unexpected time. And holy crap was that stressful. $2,000 is a lot of budget overage for the month—and when you combine that unexpected spending with quarterly taxes, recent medical bills, and quarterly charitable contributions, it creates a perfect storm of financial drain.
So last night I lay in bed and stressed about money, trying to figure out how to get things back on track. (Should I stay put in Mexico for a few months, even if it gets ridiculously hot and sticky? Should I go to Pennsylvania and visit friends where I’d likely have places to stay for free?).
It was in the midst of all this anxious planning, while I was re-reading a Forbes article where I was featured a few months back, that I had a realization:
When I quit my job and dedicated myself to the business full-time (two years ago this week), I had 10 months of expenses in the bank. Today (granted, before some of the payments that are looming), by those same monthly standards, I have over 20.
In just two years running my own business full-time and 10 months traveling the world, I have more than doubled my savings.
Holy crap, you guys. I didn’t realize.
I guess the lesson here is that you can’t judge yourself by whether you’ve just had a loss or a bad month or a bad couple months. You have to look at the whole picture.
Suddenly, I was bathed in gratefulness and relief. Everything is going to be okay. That $2,000 is gone, but that’s okay. I’m resourceful. I’m booked up for months. And one loss doesn’t cancel out all the hard work and big wins. Life isn’t pass-fail.
Noon: Back to the present day, I happily wander through the dusty cobbled streets of Sayulita and down to the beach where I eat pizza and drink strawberry lemonade and pass the next two hours chatting with a well-traveled Canadian couple. We exchange immigration horror stories (the poor man was flagged once, like me, and now it takes him at least four hours to get through immigration even if he’s just got a connecting flight through London). I make a note to not ever have a connecting flight through the UK.
We also talk about creativity and writing, Canada, the US, their upcoming trip to Asia, and her very interesting job at a video game company in Canada. I find them utterly delightful.
Once the heat of the day strikes, Luna and I head back to the house to escape the direct sun, enjoy an afternoon nap, and work on the blog.
5:30p: As the heat of the day passes, we walk down to the beach, picking up a few random dogs along the way (this always happens when I walk Luna here; random dogs will join us on our excursion for a while before, presumably, heading home again to whoever their owners are). Luna runs madly across the sand with her new puppy friends, which is pretty much her favorite thing in the world to do.
8:30p: Finally, we head home where I start a much less panicked travel planning process that involves drawing a chart, running searches on Airbnb, and picking friends’ brains. After an hour or two of this, I turn in early.
What does a typical day in your life look like?