Stylish illustrated woman in a dramatic black hat writes in a journal beside a cocktail, overlooking Pittsburgh’s skyline at dusk.

WELCOME, MY LOVELIES TO THE PROPER POUR

Around here, a proper pour is part of the lifestyle. We sit down, examine the situation, and decide what needs rearranging before we waste another year pretending the current arrangement is working.

I don’t care how old you are. If there’s something you still want to do, we need to establish why you aren’t doing it.

Which brings me to my three R’s: Reflect. Redirect. Reconnect.

Reflect: Step back. What have you wanted to do? What have you actually done? What keeps getting postponed, and what is causing the delay? Be specific. “Life happened” may explain the interruption, darling, but we still need a plan for resuming.

Redirect: Once you identify the problem, change where your time and attention go. Examine your habits, your commitments, and your company. If every conversation leaves you distracted, aggravated, or volunteering for somebody else’s circus, adjust your availability.

Reconnect: Return to the world with some direction. Meet people. Follow up. Participate in things that interest you. Disappear long enough to get your affairs in order, then come back and do something with them. We are reorganizing, sweetpea. We haven’t entered witness protection.

Before we get into the brass tacks, get yourself a pen and a journal.

Yes. An actual pen.

Put down the phone. Close the laptop. Your iPad has enjoyed quite enough authority over your life.

I went so long without writing by hand that holding a pen felt awkward. Apparently, I had outsourced an entire motor skill to a touchscreen. The handwriting required supervision, but I kept going.

Writing things out made me slow down long enough to finish a thought. On paper, I could see where I was being specific and where I was giving myself a beautifully worded excuse.

Naturally, I use a rose pen. I like a little ceremony with my administrative overhaul. Bougie? Certainly. The paperwork still gets done.

I’ve put some pens and journals in my Amazon storefront if you enjoy a handsome writing arrangement. Purchases through my Amazon links may earn me a commission. A plain notebook will do the job perfectly well, too. The important purchase is apparently the ink you intend to use.

Now, seven things I want you to apply to yourself.

First, take control of your attention.

Every opinion does not require a meeting. Every provocation does not deserve the rest of your afternoon. Decide what matters enough to receive your attention, then get back to it.

I became remarkably productive once I stopped treating every interruption as an appointment.

Second, establish standards you will enforce.

Write down what you expect from yourself: how you use your time, how you handle your money, what you finish, and what you agree to.

Then examine what you keep accepting from other people.

A standard that collapses at the first objection is going to require sturdier construction.

Third, give your plans a schedule.

What exactly are you doing? What does the first step require? When will you take it?

I adore a grand vision, but eventually I expect it to put on shoes and arrive somewhere.

Choose one thing you can move forward this week. Put it on the calendar.

Fourth, review who has access to you.

Some arrangements continue because nobody has bothered to question them.

Look at the favors, the interruptions, the standing obligations. Familiarity alone is a poor reason to keep renewing a dreadful arrangement.

I’ve known certain inconveniences for years. That hardly qualifies them for permanent residency.

Fifth, exercise judgment before you respond.

Read it again. Wait. Decide whether a response serves any useful purpose.

You can be thoroughly unimpressed without holding a press conference.

I prefer to make decisions after I’ve considered the consequences. It saves an extraordinary amount of cleanup.

Sixth, learn to use time alone.

Take yourself to dinner. Work on something without announcing it. Spend an afternoon discovering what you think before collecting twelve outside opinions.

I enjoy company. I also enjoy completing a thought without someone interrupting to explain how they would have handled it.

Seventh, take responsibility for your next move.

You may have legitimate reasons for where things stand. Write them down. Account for them.

Then decide what you can do from here.

Learn the skill. Research the cost. Make the call. Submit the application. Finish the work.

Choose a move you can actually make, and make it. Authority over your life comes with a workload, darling.

Now look at what you’ve written.

Circle one thing you’re stopping, one thing you’re changing, and one thing you’re starting. Give each a date.

There. We have something to work with.

And once you’ve finished, my lovelies, have yourself a proper pour.

For this occasion, I’m calling mine The Steel City Standard, in honor of my hometown: Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Bourbon, strong coffee, maple, and bitters. A little polish. Some backbone.

The Steel City Standard

  • 1½ ounces bourbon
  • ½ ounce chilled strong coffee
  • ¼ ounce maple syrup
  • 2 dashes Angostura bitters
  • Orange peel, for garnish

Stir the bourbon, coffee, maple syrup, and bitters with ice. Strain into a rocks glass over one large ice cube. Twist the orange peel over the glass, then drop it in.

That’s my pour for the evening.

Stay cool stay classy and keep on fucking shit up!

— P.S.C.

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