[9] Chasing Quota, Cooking Ribs, and Not Spiraling (Too Much)

Ah yes, the end of Q1. That magical, gut-churning, eye-twitching time of year when we all pretend we’re fine while secretly running on caffeine, rejection emails, and an emotional support spreadsheet color-coded by risk level.

If you're in sales, you know this energy. It's like The Hunger Games meets The Great British Baking Show — a delicate mix of pressure, panic, and pastries. One minute you're celebrating a “verbal yes,” the next you’re muting your Zoom to scream into a throw pillow because procurement decided to “pause all vendor discussions until next quarter.” Cool cool cool.

For me? I'm currently sitting at 80% of my number. Not too shabby, but not exactly relaxing spa-day energy either. I’m holding the top spot on the leaderboard, but let’s be real — nothing is locked in until March 31st at 11:59 p.m. (and even then, I half-expect a prospect to revoke their signature due to Mercury in retrograde or whatever excuse is trending that week).

And the cherry on top? I work from home. Alone. On what feels like an emotional island where my only coworkers are the 16 tabs open on Chrome, my air fryer, and the existential dread of missing quota by 2%.

I’m chasing down deals like a bounty hunter with a Canva subscription, prospecting for Q2 like my life depends on it, and still trying to squeeze in time to lift heavy things at the gym, prep meals that don’t come from a bag, and try not to disintegrate mentally.

Spoiler: It’s not always cute.

But that’s the job, right? You wear the pressure like a designer handbag — expensive, kind of unnecessary, but somehow makes you feel powerful. Sales is not for the faint of heart. It’s for the emotionally resilient, the caffeine-fueled, the “sure, I can squeeze in one more call” crew.

And this article? It’s for you — the high-performers who are tired, inspired, lonely, hopeful, and still out here trying to close one more deal before quarter-end. Let’s talk about what that actually looks like, why it’s hard as hell, and how we keep going anyway — with some baking, some sunshine, and a whole lot of sarcasm.

The Balancing Act (aka My Full-Time Job of Having Multiple Full-Time Jobs)

Let’s just talk about what this season actually looks like:

• ☑️ Chasing down deals like I’m auditioning for the next Fast & Furious
  
  

• ☑️ Prospecting for Q2 while trying not to cry on my keyboard
  
  

• ☑️ Getting my workouts in so my glutes can carry the team
  
  

• ☑️ Meal prepping because my mental health and blood sugar are codependent
  
  

• ☑️ Working from home and slowly becoming one with my couch
  
  

• ☑️ Trying to not lose my damn mind
  
  

Let’s be honest: stress is part of the gig. But so is managing it like the high-functioning overachiever I pretend to be.

So yes, I’m baking (shoutout to this week’s peanut butter and jelly cookies — 10/10, would recommend as an emotional support snack). I’m lifting heavy things, soaking in sunshine, and deep breathing through the deals that almost close.

The One That Got Away (aka Please Sign Before I Spiral)

This morning, I had a deal that was basically gift-wrapped with a bow. We’ve done the dance, they’ve met the team, they’re nodding along on calls, and then — boom — the old “we’re just nervous to spend money in March” line.

I get it. Budgets are tight. CFOs are clutching wallets like it’s Black Friday at Best Buy in 2007. But also… my quota isn’t going to close itself.

Here’s how I’m handling it:

• I reframed their March hesitancy as a strategic Q1 investment to secure operational efficiency by Q2. (Buzzwords, baby!)
  
  

• I offered them a phased rollout: sign now, stagger payments later.
  
  

• I dropped in a little “incentive” that expires with Q1 — because if there's one thing people hate more than spending money, it’s missing out.
  
  

Another One? Another One.

Last week, a prospect told me they’re “super interested” but want to re-evaluate in May. May?! Do you know how many emotional rollercoasters I can ride between now and May?

My response:

• I reminded them of the risks of waiting. (Nothing like a little FOMO-induced fear-based urgency!)
  
  

• I sent them a quick video recap highlighting ROI and the cost of delay.
  
  

• I leaned on their internal champion to schedule one last nudge meeting.
  
  

Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. But the key is to not take it personally — and to maybe scream into a pillow that matches your couch for aesthetics.

WFH Island Vibes (Sans the Beach)

Working from home sounds dreamy until it doesn’t. Some days I feel like a remote goddess, sipping coffee while slaying deals. Other days, I’m in a hoodie I haven’t washed since last quarter, questioning if that was a Slack notification or my last brain cell logging off.

The mental game is real. It’s easy to feel isolated, especially when you're sprinting toward an invisible finish line. That’s why I share wins and fails with my team. I bake. I lift. I write weird articles like this one.

Because being a top rep doesn’t mean being a robot. It means showing up fully, with all your weirdness, your high standards, your rejected quotes, and your peanut butter cookie-fueled dreams.

In Conclusion: We’re All a Little Unhinged — and That’s Okay

So, to my fellow stressed-but-still-crushing-it salespeople: you’re not alone. You can be highly productive and highly emotional. You can be strategic and take a walk just to scream into the sun.

This time of year can feel incredibly isolating. Working from home starts to feel like working from Mars. Add in personal life stressors (shoutout to the emotional plot twists happening off Zoom), and suddenly it feels like you’re carrying two full-time jobs on one emotionally fragile back.

There are days I feel like I’ve got it all together — gym done, deals moving, cookies baked, hair washed. And then there are days where the loneliness creeps in, the “no’s” sting a little harder, and I start questioning if I'm doing enough. Or worse — if I am enough.

But here’s the truth: when it rains, it pours. Professionally, personally, sometimes both. But the storm is what makes you appreciate the sunshine. The comparison is what gives the highs their intensity. You don’t feel euphoria from a win unless you’ve sat in the discomfort of a loss.

And yes, this job is hard. This lifestyle is harder. But every deal you claw your way to, every goal you hit while juggling life’s mess behind the scenes — those wins mean something. They’re not just quota hits. They’re battle-earned, late-night-strategizing, grit-fueled victories.

So keep your head down when you need to. Cry, lift, walk, bake, scream-sing Taylor Swift in your living room — whatever gets you through the Q1 gauntlet. Just don’t forget: your effort matters. Your weirdness is a gift. And your success will taste so much sweeter because you felt everything along the way.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a deal to resurrect and another batch of emotional-support cookies to bake.

If any of this made you laugh, cry, or aggressively nod while sipping your fourth coffee of the day — you’re my kind of human. My inbox is always open. Whether you want to talk deals, burnout, bounce-back strategies, or just trade cookie recipes, slide into my DMs. Or, if you’re looking for more structured support, I offer 1x1 coaching sessions for sales folks who want to hit big numbers and keep their sanity intact.

Let’s chat — about work, life, and all the chaos in between. 💻🍪☀️