Aw, Crap. You Mean I'm 'Sposed to Have Personal Goals?

Thanks to my so-called friend Emily (who is fast becoming a recurring character in this blog and apparently my life), I have discovered yet another personality flaw...in me, not her. Last week, on my birthday, Emily asked me if I have any goals for the year ahead. That was when I realized that, other than trying to have the house to myself by 2020, I have no goals. No personal mission statement. No long-term or even short-term objectives.

I lack intrinsic motivation.

In other words, I do practically nothing unless there's an external motivator. These outside forces generally include money, approval, or recognition. Rarely if ever do I strive for something just for the sense of personal accomplishment.

Here are just a few sad examples:

• Getting good grades in school - From elementary school until college graduation, I aimed for A's. First to make mom and dad happy, and eventually because they were paying tuition. And I wanted them to be proud of me.
• My job - Yes, I work really hard and try to excel in my position, basically because I have an overwhelming need to be patted on the back and told how great I am.
• Going to the gym - I'm paying for it. It's expensive. To get my money's worth I have to go.
• Obtaining my black belt - Again, money was part of the equation. And then there was the fact that I had already invested about 8 years of my life in training so I had damn well better come out of it with a black belt or two.
• Being nice to my husband - Do unto others...
• Taking care of my home - So the kids' friends think I'm not only exceptionally young and attractive, but also one hell of a housekeeper.
• Losing weight - On the rare occasions that I've tried to reduce my soda, wine, beer, cheesesteak, Fritos, donuts, soft pretzel and movie theater popcorn intake, I've failed miserably. Until someone pays me to lose weight, or gaining weight starts to cost me money, I will probably never succeed.

This lack of intrinsic motivation is also the reason I have not pursued writing outside of posting on this blog for you easily amused clowns friends and family. And seriously, if you don't start appreciating me telling me how great it is commenting more, I'm not going to do this either. Anyway, as I was saying, I haven't pursued writing for a larger audience because the external drivers aren't there for me. There's no money or recognition involved unless I'm super successful, and working in publishing, I know how difficult it is to be one of those few who really hit it big.

But there's that damn Emily again with her taunting, "What do you hope to achieve in the coming year?" So to shut her up I told her about this book idea I have. Of course she said she thought it was great (just because she wanted a buddy to write with at the coffee shop a couple nights a week), and now I have to figure out how I'm going to motivate myself to do this. Maybe if I pay in advance for a year's worth of hot tea or cocoa at the coffee shop? Or I could pay Emily to pat me on the back and tell me how great I am and how wonderful my material is. That would provide both the financial incentive and the recognition I need.

All I really know is that I'm getting rather tired of these personal "A HA!" moments in which I identify something else that's wrong with me. There should be a limit to these self-discoveries...