The $23 Failure Fee
Some days, you lose the battle before 7 AM.
The day was already losing.
I woke up late, jolted by the realization that I’d slept through my alarm (multiple).
The first emotion that hit me wasn’t restfulness, but a wave of self-doubt and frustration.
*Quick side note, I have 3 kids, 2 of which didn’t want to go to bed or stay asleep last night…hence why I was up*
I’d broken a promise to myself and missed my Alpha Fit Class (they are seriously kick ass)
That’ll be a $23 fine, thank you very much—a literal fee for my failure.
From that moment on, the day was a scramble.
A frantic, chaotic rush to get the kids ready, pack the lunches, and manage the beautiful madhouse that is a family morning.
I felt like I was starting the day with my back against the wall, already in debt to the clock.
And then, something shifted.
Amidst the rush, one small, unbreakable appointment arrived.
My son, Hunter, and I walked out to the driveway to wait for the bus. We tossed a football back and forth.
The same quiet street, the same neighbors waiting, the same worn-in feel of the fake leather, pee-wee sized football.
It wasn’t long. Maybe five minutes.
But in that small window, the chaos of the morning went silent.
The missed alarm, the fine, the frantic energy—it all disappeared.
There was only the simple rhythm of the toss and catch. He’s getting so good at catching the ball and he’s only 5. (Super proud dad moment there)
We hugged, I told him I loved him, and he got on the bus.
Standing in the driveway, it hit me. I had been trying to solve the wrong problem.
My goal every morning was to build a perfect, unbreakable system to prevent chaos.
But chaos is inevitable. Life happens.
The real goal isn’t to eliminate the storm; it’s to build an anchor that holds you steady when the storm hits.
My rule is simple: Don’t try to manage the chaos, just protect the anchors.
A chaotic day can’t sink a ship that’s secured to its anchors. Most of us spend our time trying to predict the weather, plugging every tiny leak, and stressing over every wave.
We try to build the perfect, hyper-optimized schedule that shatters at the first sign of friction.
We even think to use AI to help us optimize and be more efficient. Like it’s going to unlock hidden hours in the day so we can “hustle harder”…come on…
But the highest performers, the calmest leaders, do it differently.
They accept that the storm is coming. They just make sure their anchors are solid.
In business, your “chaos” is the flood of emails, the unexpected client problem, the Slack notifications, the project that goes off the rails.
You will never, ever eliminate it.
But you have anchors. They are the small, non-negotiable rituals that, if you do them consistently, guarantee progress no matter how messy the day gets.
Your anchors might be:
The 15 minutes you spend on connecting with your clients before opening your inbox.
The 20 minutes you dedicate to writing, no matter what.
The 5-minute huddle with your team to set the day’s priority.
The final 10 minutes of your workday planning the next one.
These aren’t just tasks on a to-do list. They are your moments of grounding.
They are the equivalent of tossing a football in the driveway—small acts of intention that bring order to a world of disorder.
Stop trying to build a life without chaos. It doesn’t exist.
Instead, find your anchors and protect them like they’re the most important meetings of your day.
Because they are.