Rules of the Game

I am a creature of extremes - since childhood I've had only two settings, idle and overdrive. (And, being ambidirectional, I've hit some pretty spectacular speeds in both forward and reverse.) I live my life in bursts of inspiration and activity followed by stretches of puttering and revising, which is usually just code for burnout. Oddly, this lifestyle doesn't encourage risk-taking, but it does make me, as a pillow in my office reminds me, the "Queen of Unfinished Projects." And I almost let it happen here.

Haven't you wondered why it took me until April to get moving when this all began in January? Well, the searing flash of inspiration (that I could be rich) launched me into a frenzy of brainstorming - four increasingly endless weeks spent hunched over research books and a notepad (my standard weapons in any new war), jotting down everything that struck me -hitting the jackpot in the markets, personal strengths to exploit, assets I could upgrade or increase to maximize potential, and even the odd, Eureka moments ("Yard Sale!"). In fact, in my frenzy of list-making, I even catalogued my "cutoff points," lines I would absolutely never cross in this oh-so-focused pursuit of wealth. I had to. I think I forgot what I was doing. Or maybe I was tempted. I don't remember. Because I was already feeling the foggy, smoke-swirled sensation I knew so well.

"I have everything I need," I decided, and "we'll be just fine when we retire" - at the usual time at the usual level. Then there was, "Hey, we aren't the kind of people who become wealthy, anyway." Straight-up, standard Bunny rationalization that covered my flames-licking-the-engine-block, screaming-into-the-atmosphere crash. But no matter how long I puttered around the house in the haze afterward, I couldn't let it go. Because it still felt absolutely, amazingly, paradoxically right. And, for a change, no one knew I'd started, so no one knew I'd shot myself in the foot again. Maybe I could, possibly, perhaps ...

By the time my inner diva decided I'd suffered enough, and showed me why this idea was so perfect (on so many levels), I was ready to start again. I pulled out my notes, determined to find out why I - in the immortal words of my favorite NASCAR wag - "blowed up."

I found a mountain of spreadsheets and inventories of assets and income (both current and future), scribbles on investment strategies for long-term gain, short-term gain, low risk, high risk - even something with three columns labelled and lined neatly. Did I do that? Me? It was as if I'd found a story in my handwriting but written in Munchkin! Columns and Quicken and cash, oh, my!

And then there was The List.

"Things I will never do for money:
"1. I will never break the law to get money.
"2. I will never hurt anyone intentionally, including myself, to get money.
"3. I will never risk more than I can afford to lose."

After I gave the studio audience my patented, dry, "Duh" look, I sat back and just shook my head. Holy Captain Obvious! No wonder I spontaneously combusted! The miracle is that I made it past day one!

I needed a new game. And it didn't take any thought at all.

What I WILL do ... for my husband:
1. I WILL try as many new, God-I-always-wanted-to-do-that-but-it-scares-me-witless things as I can cram into every year.
2. I WILL reduce, recycle, and reuse every chance I get - generally treat everyone and everything I touch as if I'm the guardian, not the master.
3. I WILL listen to my instincts, my intuition, and my inner Diva (because she's obviously smarter than I am).
4. I WILL have fun!

Fun? With money? Yes, I say, and yes, and YES! I just finished my taxes and paid some pretty hefty bills, and still I say YES! Why?

Because fear and inertia are energy-suckers, and don't belong anywhere near our money. Because money as a hobby sounds like a hell of an excuse to indulge in everything I love to do, and find more. Because life's too ... not too short, but too rich not to strain toward every brass ring we can possibly reach (and even those we can't) in every moment of every day.

Because money isn't the real end game. Life is.

I'm going to ride this merry-go-round all the way to the finish - and I'm taking the love of my life with me.