Man, September 2020 felt like a real turning point for me, especially when it came to figuring out my career path and getting my money straight. I mean, you know how it is, sometimes you just hit a wall and realize you gotta shake things up. For me, that month was exactly that kick in the pants I needed.
I was coasting, you know? Day job was fine, paying the bills, but I just felt like something was missing. And honestly, the bank account wasn’t exactly overflowing with “extra” cash for any fun stuff or emergencies. My brain was always buzzing, trying to optimize everything, so I started looking around, just to see if there was a way to squeeze a bit more out of my time, or maybe just find a different kind of challenge.
Then this opportunity popped up, almost by accident. A buddy of mine, he knew I could whip up a decent website, asked if I could help him out with a small project. It wasn’t a huge deal, just tweaking some stuff on an existing site for a local business. He threw a number at me, and I gotta admit, it sounded pretty good for a few evenings work. My first thought was, “Can I even fit this in?” My day job was already a handful, and my weekends were my sacred downtime. I pictured late nights, burning the candle at both ends, and honestly, that scared me a bit. But that extra bit of cash for my “future self” or just a decent dinner out, that kept nudging me. So, after a bit of back and forth with myself, I just said screw it, let’s just take the plunge.
The Wild Ride of Juggling and Learning
And boy, was it a ride. I mean, I thought I had a handle on things. I figured I’d just slot it in after dinner, maybe a few hours on Saturday. What a naive thought! The moment I actually started digging into the project, I realized my initial estimates were way, way off. Things always take longer than you think, especially when you’re doing them around another full-time gig. My evenings? They evaporated. Weekends? Suddenly, they were less about relaxing and more about playing catch-up on code and client emails. I was just reacting to deadlines, not really planning. My energy levels dropped, and my patience wore thin.
And the money side of it? Even worse. I was just dumping whatever I got paid into my main checking account, and then paying for software licenses or little stock photos out of that same account. It was a complete mess. I couldn’t tell you how much I was actually profiting versus just doing busy work. My records were literally scraps of paper and mental notes, which, surprise surprise, don’t hold up in the real world.
I hit a wall one particularly brutal Friday night. I was staring at my screen, totally drained, with a bunch of unfinished tasks looming. It was like a lightbulb finally went off. I realized I couldn’t keep doing this half-assed. This wasn’t sustainable, and it certainly wasn’t giving me any “insights” beyond “don’t do this again!” So, I basically forced myself to sit down right then and there. I started to map out my hours. I literally penciled in blocks of time, specific slots for the side project, even if it meant sacrificing a Netflix binge or turning down a casual hangout. I became super strict with that schedule. It felt rigid at first, but it made a massive difference almost immediately.
Getting My Financial Ducks in a Row
Then the first big payment for the project came in. It felt awesome, no doubt. But then I sat down, tried to tally up my actual profit after my expenses – the software, a few contractor tools I bought, even the extra coffee I was drinking to stay awake. And that’s when it hit me: it wasn’t nearly as much “pure profit” as I’d mentally assigned to it. I hadn’t accounted for a lot of small things, let alone thinking about taxes down the line. That’s when I made another big decision:
- I went out and opened a separate bank account.
- This account was solely for any side project income and expenses.
- I started tracking everything – every penny in, every penny out – in a super simple spreadsheet. No fancy accounting software, just a basic Excel sheet with columns for date, description, income, expense, and category.
This simple act of creating a separate financial bucket changed the game for me. It forced me to see the project as a mini-business. I could see exactly what was coming in and going out. It also made me realize I needed to value my time more. Before, I’d just take whatever came my way. Now, with a clearer picture of my hours and expenses, I started politely declining smaller, less profitable requests. I even raised my hourly rate a little bit, because I saw the true value of my time and the expertise I was bringing.
By the time October rolled around, the shift was incredible. The stress from juggling everything had really gone down. That separate bank account was actually showing some decent growth, and it felt amazing to see tangible results. I wasn’t just working for the sake of it; I was building something, literally seeing the numbers grow.
The biggest insight I got from that September 2020 hustle wasn’t just about making extra cash. It was about discipline. It was about learning to actually structure my side gigs and to keep my financial streams separate. It taught me that even small projects, those little side hustles, demand proper planning and dedicated financial tracking if you want real “insights” and actual profit, not just a whole lot of busywork and stress.
