Last weekend, Doug and I drove to Albuquerque. Doug’s sister had given us tickets to Spamalot. We used the opportunity to visit friends and shop a couple stores our hometown doesn’t have.
I made a mistake. When I sorted the purchases into ones I could leave in the car and ones I couldn’t, I missed a bag of small, individually wrapped chocolates. They were in the car in one hundred degree weather for two days. They changed from fifty separate mini-bars to one chocolate-cemented mass.
So, yesterday I found myself trying to disentangle them, and thinking about the value of my time.
The chocolate had flowed out of its wrappers. Paper-thin slices of it slid off as I worked to separate it from the folded plastic. It was over one hundred degrees outside, and pushing eighty inside. The slivers of chocolate melted immediately on contact with my fingers. I was soon up to my knuckles in melted chocolate.
Earlier that day, I’d paid a cleaner $15 an hour to clean my house. I’d been glad to do it. She does a better job than I do, and not only is that three extra hours I can put into my business, it saves me all the time I used to spend berating myself for not cleaning house. I profit by hiring her because my time is worth more than $15 an hour.
As I tried to salvage the bits of chocolate, attempting to contain the slivers that flew off, and creating an awful mess anyway, with bits of chocolate melting on my shirt, scattered across the table, and even pockmarking the freshly mopped floor, I began to realize I was likely to spend an hour on this project.
What was I doing? I was throwing my valuable time after a $10 bag of chocolate.
I kept working - after all, I was already covered in chocolate - and I started to think. Why was I doing this? Because I would feel bad wasting food. Because I had residual fears that I wouldn’t get more chocolate. Because I had forgotten to count the cost before I started. I have coaching tools to help with all those why’s.
And I counted that self-knowledge far more valuable than the chocolate I salvaged.
Would you value knowing similar things about yourself? You could try getting knuckle-deep in goo and see if they come to you. Or, you could call me at 575-640-0979. I’m trained in asking good questions, and helping you decide where to go with the answers.
And I won’t spatter your kitchen with chocolate.
To your success!
Anna