It’s time to …

I’m not a good impulse buyer … those candies and trinkets by the cash register don’t tempt me. Well, they may tempt me, but I spend a lot of time (too much) pondering the necessity of the buy. There are price comparisons, internal debates and at least two spreadsheets so when I do bite the bitcoin, it will be an (overly) informed choice.

When given the choice to spend money on a tangible thing or an experiential event, I will opt for the experience. A memory shared with a friend will always be more valuable to me than a tchotchke. Material possessions hold less importance to me. And when it comes to buying material things, I rarely buy them for myself.

Recently, that changed.

After having met a superhuman human, pilot, adventurer, entrepreneur and watchmaker (that’s one person, by the way), I make a spreadsheet-informed choice to buy one of her watches … for myself.

I peruse her site, even though I knew exactly which watch I want. I put the watch in the online cart and leave the site, which is the modern-day equivalent of pushing a cart up and down all the aisles of a brick-and-mortar store. Except the online store lets me stroll up and down with my one-item cart for days. Like a few days. Ok, I’ll be honest, the watch sits in the cart for a few weeks.

Can I afford it?  Yes.

Do I want it?  Yes.

Will I wear it?  Yes.

Does it hold special meaning to me? Yes.

Do all cells on the spreadsheet point to buying the watch? Yes.

Yet it takes me weeks to actually purchase this special thing I want and can afford.

This watch is going to be my reminder to celebrate my accomplishments while serving as a memory jogger about a lesson the watchmaker taught me.

I pull the purchase trigger and as soon as the watch is purchased, I am welcomed to the crew of other watch owners. I get text updates about the flight plan of my watch as it makes its way to me. And then the day comes when the watch lands on my front door.

You think I would have been excited, right? That thing I rarely do and truly anticipated was lying tangibly at my house.

Yet, I can’t open the box.

The same arguments involved in the debate about buying the watch are now repeated in the debate about opening the box.

I haven’t earned the watch just yet.

Maybe I should wait until a really significant accomplishment before I open the box.

If I open the box now, I’ll stop working hard to really earn it.

Wearing the watch would be flaunting it.

Flaunting the watch would be braggadocios.

And so the watch sits in my office, in plain sight, taunting me every day.

All my reasons for not opening the watch (the same reasons that delayed me from even buying the watch) deplete my joy and anticipation.

For weeks the watch sits in its shipping box. Weeks.

And the logic behind not opening the box makes even less sense than that same logic applied to buying the watch. The money has been spent. The purchase has been made. The proverbial check has been cleared.

Yet, I don’t feel deserving of the watch I bought with my own money for my self.

An upcoming trip to Las Vegas where I am planning to meet up with the watchmaker becomes the catalyst for me opening the box.

The watch is just as beautiful in person as it is online.

And strange things happen when I wear it.

I feel like I have earned it.

I feel like the accomplishments I bought it to celebrate are properly acknowledged. 

Wearing it didn’t cause me to rest on my watchband. In fact, it motivates me to continue working hard to continue earning it. 

Anyone who notices the watch doesn’t accuse me of being cocky and flaunting anything (except for my good taste in a gorgeous timepiece).

The ironic thing is that in most of my messages as an emcee, keynoter or in general life commentary, I preach the importance of celebrating our victories, big or small. 

It was time to start practicing what I consistently preach.

So watch me now, because the small victory I’m celebrating is the decision to celebrate my small victories.

How about you? What small victory are you celebrating and how?