Being consistent is tough. We often end up saying fuck it.
It’s the end of my first week of working on Streakoid full time.
From Monday to Friday, I’ve woken up at 5.30 and worked and coded for eight hours each day desperate to make the app a reality.
Seeing my streaks build up, I’ve been feeling great.
My entire focus has been to code, do user interviews, write a blog post, and release a video each day.
It’s the ideal place to focus.
It’s easy to be consistent when life is simple.
Yesterday, I wanted to meet up with my friends in the evening. Friends I’ve neglected while I’ve been working the last year in London. But this meant I could no longer live like a monk.
I knew sometime around five my friend would come to pick me up; he didn’t have an exact time but it would be around then. Introducing a nice dose of chaos.
Uncertainty and consistency don’t like each other.
As usual, I woke up at 5.30 smashed out the coding for the day, wrote my blog post, and did some yoga.
Tracking all the activities in Streakoid. Getting my dopamine hit as I went along.
However, when I finished the blog post, it was 4.00pm, and I was getting tired.
I went to do the YouTube video for the day, but my dad came home. Which made me conscious of the noise I was making.
My brain latched to this excuse. Knowing my friend was coming, my brain decided that this was an unusual enough situation. It made sense that I couldn’t do any work.
I spent the next hour and a half watching YouTube videos from startup school. I could have done the stuff I had planned (reading and the YouTube video), but I was weak.
Any change at all in my routine means I’m likely to say fuck it.
Worse still – It’s never just one fuck it.
“It’s Never just one fuck it.”
My friend ended up picking me up at around six. I had plenty of time to do everything I had planned.
We were driving to see his new house.
In my mind I knew I was betraying myself but I hid behind the excuse that this is a rare occasion and it’s important to socialise.
On the way he stopped to pick up some beers.
I haven’t been drinking a lot recently. But I had already told my brain that today was an exception. So guess what I said? I said fuck it.
For some unknown reason, I split a bottle of pink gin and lemonade with another friend. Pink gins a killer. Doesn’t taste like alcohol, but you’ll end up crying about your ex from high school if you drink it.
We went to my friends’ house. I continued to ignore my self sabotage.
Knowing that I was losing streaks I had built up over the week. Streaks I was proud off.
I had gin, chocolates, crisps and a good old time.
By the end of the night, I was drunk. Luckily, my friend had taken most of the gin. So he was as we say in Ireland – wrecked.
As we were leaving all that was going through my head was I wanted to demolish some Chinese food. But the driver wanted McDonalds, so we went to McDonalds.
Usually just a double cheeseburger but guess what I said last night – fuck it.
I had 20 spicy chicken nuggets with large fries.
My stomach will never be the same.
I arrived home at 12, smashed down two cakes and went to sleep without brushing my teeth. A low point.
The repercussions of last night spilled over today. I didn’t wake up at 5.30. I woke up at 7.30 with a gin hangover.
Losing my five-day streak of waking up early.
As if the headache wasn’t enough, I also lost my non-fiction reading streak when I should have been in bed reading I was talking rubbish and drinking gin. All because of one fuck it.
I’ve been in this situation before. But it sucks that I keep arriving here time and time again.
There is still hope.
Luckily, I’ve maintained my eight hours coding, yoga, and blogging streaks.
I was lying in bed before this still feeling the gin. But I didn’t want to feel the regret of earlier again. Knowing I had my five days blogging streak on the line. I got to the computer and smashed this post out.
Streakoid, tracking my daily streaks got me out of bed and down to this laptop.
Today I had a crisp sandwich, drank countless coffee than usual, and ate about a kilo in chocolate. The ripples from yesterday’s choices continue.
But now things are different. Streakoid can point out to me what was my downfall.
So instead of ignoring these weak moments that can lead to weeks of inconsistency. Streakoid makes sure there are repercussions.
Streakoid will keep track of your “fuck. its.”
If you fuck about you’re losing your streak.
You lose that warm fuzzy feeling of knowing you’re consistently improving.
You need to focus on being careful of those little moments where you break from your routine. Sure, it’s important to meet up with friends, but you didn’t need to drink pink gin with 20 spicy nuggets.
I’ll start rebuilding my streaks again. Using this frustration with myself as motivation not to repeat this again.
If you want to stop saying fuck it. Try out Streakoid. Let’s see if we can do the things we want to do – consistently.
Don’t drink pink gin.