Work Ethic: The Skill That Builds Everything (And Why It Matters)

The Foundation

Real reinvention comes when you’ve built, lost, pivoted, and repeated the process so many times that you start wondering if you’re evolving, or just stuck in a never-ending game of career Whac-A-Mole.

At this stage in the game, I’m not sure if hitting my “reinvention age” for the fifth time is something to be proud of or just slightly concerning.

Is “sadly excited” a thing? Like when your favorite TV show ends, but then you realize there’s a spinoff, and you’re cautiously optimistic it won’t suck. Way to go, Frasier.

Three months ago, I closed our live music lounge, one of the biggest, boldest, and most fulfilling projects of my career—and, well, let’s say while I knew it was the right decision, nobody warns you about the weird in-between phase that comes next—the one where you sit there staring at your life like a paused DVD menu screen, bouncing from corner to corner (shoutout to the early 2000s).

Pair the feeling of being lost with a sprinkle of existential dread, a dash of “Oh, cool, I haven’t built a resume in two decades,” top it with your only child moving three hours away to college, a home reno, and, well—Houston, we have a problem.

Now, some people would see this as the universe (or the lousy economy) telling them to slow down, do some soul-searching, maybe even embark on an Eat, Pray, Love journey. But my work ethic wasn’t having it. She crossed her arms, tapped her foot, and said, “Girl, you’ve been married 20 years—get to work.”

Meanwhile, our wallet chimed in with, “Yeah. No Eat, Pray, Love for you, lady.”

The Reflex to Keep Moving

After closing the last business, I said I was going to take six months to rest, reset, and refocus.

Maybe journal? I haven’t done that for 27 years.

My return to creative journaling turned into an online blog (because it’s faster than the actual act of writing, and who doesn’t have a blog these days?), which then snowballed into Unfinished Business: The Art of Reinvention, a book series based on lessons learned from twenty years of being in business.

This includes:
✅ Top Ten Takeaways from 20 Years of Entrepreneurship
✅ A Collection of Candid, Comedic, and Unfiltered Business Anecdotes
✅ An Interactive Guide to Crafting Unforgettable Ambiance in Business & Life
✅ An Interactive Cookbook (with dinner playlist downloads, naturally)
✅ And…well, let’s just say, I may have overdone it a little.

What can I say? At the very least, nobody can say I half-ass life.

The Restaurant Rejection & The Vanishing Server

A strong work ethic is something you notice—not just in yourself, but in the people around you. When I see someone who genuinely cares about the work they’re doing, I admire the hell out of it. It doesn’t matter if they’re running a Fortune 500 company or making coffee—appreciating people who show up and put forth effort creates a ripple effect that is almost contagious.

That’s probably why, if I walk into a place where no one seems to care, I physically want to jump in, because I know what it’s like to be in the thick of it—drowning in work, trying to keep up, and just needing someone to step up and take the pressure off.

One of my earliest lessons in work ethic came when I was 16.

I applied for a serving job at a local restaurant. I had been working since I was 13 and lived directly across the street, so I figured I had a solid shot. But the manager shook my hand and said, “I’m sorry, you just don’t have enough serving experience.”

Oh. Okay.

I was a fast learner, responsible, and for one, took the time to not wear sweatpants.

Three years of work experience counted for nothing because none of it involved dropping off ranch dressing.

So my mom and I decided to grab lunch there anyway. And as I was wallowing in the disappointment of being rejected, our server…vanishes.

I mean vanished. Like a magician in the middle of their grand finale. No food, no explanation. Just gone.

So let me get this straight. I wasn’t qualified to serve ranch dressing, but I just watched someone quit mid-shift?

Got it, Steve.

That was the moment I realized—work ethic isn’t just about job titles, fancy résumés, or even experience. It’s about showing up, putting in the effort, and actually doing the job. Which, fun fact, requires not quitting mid-shift.

That moment stuck with me. Not because I was bitter about the job (okay, maybe a little because I’m still telling that story), but because it was the first time I saw how effort beat out entitlement. You can have the best résumé, the right connections, or even the perfect opportunity—but none of it matters if you don’t show up and put in the work.

And honestly? I think that’s the very foundation of what creates a fulfilling life—whether it’s personal or professional. Whether you’re on the clock or own the clock, work ethic gives you a sense of pride, propels you forward, and inspires others to rise to the occasion to match your energy.

And that realization shaped everything I built from that moment forward.

Final Thoughts: The Universe, Work Ethic & Knowing When to Pause

These past three months, the universe gave me every opportunity to slow down. To reflect. To breathe.

My work ethic took one look at that plan, cackled, and threw my to-do list back in my face.

And honestly? I’m having the time of my life. I feel like I have found a new untapped inner resource and at this point, I’ve accepted it—I don’t know how to sit still. But if I’ve learned anything in this new reinvention era, it’s this:

✔ Work ethic is a powerful thing.
✔ But knowing when to rest is just as important.

Are you also allergic to sitting still? Have you ever told yourself you were “taking a break”—only to somehow launch an entire new project? Same.

Drop it in the comments—I can assure you, you’re not alone!