The Art Of Rating Your Day
I look at the huge to-do list in my bullet journal. What began as excitement about the possibilities of today quickly spirals into anxiety by 9:20 AM. Even when I manage to complete my final task, I realize that while the sense of urgency fades, I rarely feel a sense of satisfaction at the end of the day.
One day, as I’m distractedly scrolling LinkedIn, I come across a post from a coach. She explains that at the end of each day, she asks her clients to rate their day on a scale from 1 to 10. She suggests that this reflection helps assess where to improve the following day. Intrigued, I decide to give this method a try. For the next three months, I notice patterns emerging. There are days when I wake up with clarity and enthusiasm, tackling my tasks with ease and ending the day with a genuine sense of accomplishment. Then there are the “blah” days—when my concentration wavers, and I mostly just want to avoid work altogether.
Two months in, as I sit on a Sunday evening reviewing my bullet journal, curiosity strikes. I flip back randomly through previous weeks. On average, my rating lands at a 7. In fact, about 80% of my days equate to a 7. This makes me wonder: are 10 days even realistic? What exactly influences these ratings? (1)
I leave that thought at my desk as I pause for a walk, but the question follows me. What do 7 days really mean to me? Most of those days, I complete my most important tasks, yet there’s still more left to do. But the most important tasks were done. My thoughts continue trailing as I walk. Then, I recall the 8 days—those rare moments when I push past my comfort zone. I finally worked on that scene (and it wasn’t that bad)! I did a cold outreach! I met with a potential collaborator! I posted my work! Those days feel different, more expansive.
And the 9 days? I remember feeling deeply present and connected. Late-night conversations over dinner. Pedaling to the beat of Kendrick Lamar in spin class. Kizomba with Jude in our living room. These days feel both intentional and nourishing. They require effort but are still within my control.
I stop at a red light and watch a petite, stylish grandmother glide by on a scooter, emerald green heels resting on the pedal. I love this little city. I’m so glad my carte de séjour was finally accepted. That was a 10 day.
10 days are just… perfect.
Not perfect in an unrealistic way, but in a way where synchronicity and expectation align. The day my residency card was extended was also the day I booked my trip home to see my family. A cold outreach turned into a job. A stranger paid for my lunch. An unexpected government refund arrived.
The noticeable difference with 10 days? First, they’re mostly out of my control. Second, they happen because of the accumulated effort of all those 7 days. The ones where there was still more to do, but the most important things got done. The ones sprinkled with 8 days, where I challenged myself just a little more.
With this new perspective, I decided to shift my scale to something that feels both realistic and sustainable: a scale from 1 to 7.
I know that 7 days are in my control. This simple shift changes my perspective—I feel more content with the effort I’ve given. Anything below a 7? If I have more than two in a row, I’ll pause to reflect, but usually, it’s just part of being human. The 8s are a bonus. The 9s are rooted in gratitude. And the 10s? I allow them to be magical.
I no longer expect a 10 day—but when it happens, I let myself feel immensely supported.
The scale is simply a tool—a way to recognize what I can do while embracing growth, life’s beauty, and the unexpected surprises along the way. How do you reflect on your days? If you try this out, I’d love to hear what significance you give to your numbers.
FOOTNOTE
Could the problem be i am rating my day solely on work? Overextending the importance but also the value that it should have.
