9:22 a.m.

On Time, Out of Time, and Finding My Own Rhythm

This morning at 9:22 a.m., I looked down at my watch: 8,000 steps already clocked. I’d sent about a dozen voice memos—some to friends, some to my team at Sunny. I’d replied to Slack messages via audio while walking, screen-grabbed ideas for our app, and even reconnected with an old friend and colleague on a spontaneous 33-minute phone call that turned into new inspiration for our work at Sunny.

All before a shower. All before “sitting down” to work.

And it hit me: this is what integration looks like.

The Rules I Lived By

When I started my career at The Richards Group, structure was everything. Stan Richards, the founder, believed in running a tight ship. Every single person—creative or account—had to clock in by 8:30 sharp. Not 8:31. Not even 8:30:01. 8:29:59. And if you were late more than a handful of times in a year, it cost you $8.63 a pop.

Part of me loved it. I’ve always been a structured person at my core, and I appreciated the fairness: no one’s time was worth more than anyone else’s. But looking back, especially once I became a mom, the pressure was brutal. Imagine getting fined on your way into work and then fined again on the daycare pickup side. That’s not just structure—it’s suffocating.

Loosening the Grip

When I moved to Team One, an LA-based agency, the culture shifted. No punch clocks. More flexibility. But it took me a long time to shake off the stress of that 8:30 a.m. start. I’d feel guilty stopping for coffee, or running into a friend on the way in. Slowly, I retrained my brain to let go of the stopwatch.

Then came the pandemic. Cue a new kind of guilt: working from home with kids in my lap, trying to reply to emails at the “right” time while juggling quarantines and school pick-ups.

Finally, as a consultant, I learned a new kind of freedom. I could set my own schedule, work from my porch, and honor my natural rhythms without punishment. The routine was still there—it’s how I thrive—but the rigidity was gone.

The Now

At Sunny, our culture values respect: for people’s time zones, their family commitments, and the simple fact that we’re all human. We start meetings on time, yes. But we also avoid scheduling them when kids are getting out of school, and we hold each other with grace.

And this morning, that grace showed up in the form of a long walk. I thought I’d take 30 minutes, but my body wanted more. So I kept walking. I responded to Slack messages by voice. I left spontaneous memos for friends. One turned into a phone call that left me buzzing with ideas. I got to see my daughter into school, wave to my niece and brother-in-law on their bike, soak in the community hum of the morning—and still move forward on meaningful work.

Here’s the nuance, though: none of this came from obligation. I wasn’t racing to check a box or meet someone else’s expectation. I did it because I wanted to. Because I love my work. Because it felt good to move and think and create all at once—like a joyful kind of box-checking that’s mine to define, on my terms, in my own time.

The Lesson (If There Is One)

For years, I thought success meant showing up on time. Being in the right chair at the right desk at the right hour. But now, at 44, I’m learning success can also look like being fully present—on a sidewalk, in sneakers, sending voice notes that move life and work forward all at once.

9:22 a.m. doesn’t mean “late.”
It means I’m right on time.

✨ Maybe the takeaway is this: wherever you are right now is exactly where you’re supposed to be. Even if it’s not at a desk.

No, I did not take my doggies with me on this morning adventure. But, they did get a stroll around the block after!