So, I did it. I built my “ideal day.”

You know — the day you picture when you finally get your life together. The Pinterest-board version of you. The hot, glowing, main character version that drinks green things and floats through life in matching sets and perfect skin.

The Plan

I mapped out everything.

• Wake up early.
• Move my body.
• Eat clean.
• Get ready like a woman who actually believes in herself.
• Work. Create. Walk.
• Tidy the house.
• Tend to the kids like a peaceful earth goddess.
• Put oil on my feet.
• Go to bed on time.
• Repeat.

And for some reason… I thought that doing all of that at once — on Day 1 — would feel magical.

Spoiler: It didn’t.

It sucked. Aggressively. By 9:00 a.m., I wanted to cancel this whole thing and crawl back into my cozy-ass excuses.

My body hurt. My mood was weird. Everything felt fake and forced. And somewhere in the afternoon, I just looked at my AI assistant and said: “I’m done.” Out loud. Like we were coworkers. (Which, honestly, we kind of are.)

The Delusional Dream of “Getting My Sh*t Together”

Here’s the thing: For years I’ve said some version of:

• “I’ll get my life together when I’m older.”
• “I’ll grow up eventually.”
• “Future me will be so productive. So stunning. So… not me.”

But uh… I’m about to be 40. So… where is she?

Where is this magical, mature version of me who loves celery juice and remembers to refill the soap dispensers?

She’s not coming. So I guess… I am.

Welcome to the 40 Before 40 Challenge

This is me, trying to figure it out — for real.

I gave myself 40 days. Not to become perfect. Not to hustle my way into burnout.

But to test this dream. To live it. And see if it’s actually worth chasing… or if it’s just another pretty fantasy I need to let go of.

But Here’s the Part I Didn’t Expect…

I thought if I planned it well enough, I’d feel better. I didn’t.

So I created something new — a scale.

Each day now lives somewhere between “bare minimum” and “ideal.” It’s not all or nothing. It’s not perfection or failure. It’s a spectrum. A rhythm. A little dance between showing up and showing grace.

Sometimes I’ll crush it. Sometimes I’ll flop. But either way, I’ll be here. Posting. Writing. Documenting.

Even when it sucks.

Especially when it sucks.