500 days to Millionaire

A guide on how not to do it

More than 7 years ago I read a book about how to become a millionaire within 7 years.
Knowing myself and my tendency to procrastinate with a subtle touch of cancerous laziness, I prophesied this endeavor would take me a while longer than the author had set out for his readers.

From all the time I had been right before, this time I really hate to say: I’ve been right again.
Seven years passed and my bank account still hasn’t seen the richer greens of a millionaires pasture.

Which doesn't mean I didn't get a blast out of the bucks I earned so far. Who else can say about themselves, they’ve spent months on the walk, sleeping in woods and fields like a fugitive just because they got bored at work?
But I found love on the way, or the equivalent an emotionally limited person like myself can interpret in the arising calmness of being surrounded by someone without having the urge to impress, impede or wish them a STDs (the latter out of purely selfish reasons).

And now I'm living in a foreign country. In a place just like the postcards in tourist shops, with wallowing mountains, incandescently smiling locals and questionably built houses. (That’s because the pictures for these postcards were taken here. Literally).
I work in a job that is far below my mental capacities and even further below the salary range I see fit for myself or even deem to be worth my time. But I also learned that money isn't everything in life. Nowadays, I hold work-life balance to a higher standard in my pyramid of well-being than ever before. Or the first time ever thanks to the habit of being German.
That said, and to out myself as a hopeless hypocrite: I still want to be a millionaire. Not for the sake of being a millionaire, but for the freedom the numbers in the bank account provides.

Time spent doing things I enjoy doing is so much more refreshing, motivating and enriching for myself and the ones around me than wasting hours each week in traffic, sitting in an office (with clothes) and grinding my potential away for a cause I ultimately don't believe will enrich humanity's ascent to the stars and ultimate consciousness.

So here I am, the countdown on my phone (which ran pointedly ignored for years) arriving at a nice round number which is adequately close to infringe anxiousness of urgency, yet distant enough to have a statistical chance of success.

"The best time to plant a tree was 30 years ago. The second best time is now."

And so I mark this day as my new starting point to become what I set out to do, years ago and countries afar; where I still see myself in the countless daydreams preoccupying me at work. Being rich a-f.

So what am I going to do to reach my new (old) goal? What part of my life am I going to throw over the edge of the proverbial boat, and let it drown in the ocean of wasted aptitude? Which parts will I explore, exhilarate and exploit for the sake of success in a capitalistic world?

The answer to this is as easy as falling off a bike or eating too much cheese:
Concentrate on your strengths.
And if that isn’t enough, I’ll use the unfashionable skills of a salesman:
Fake it until you make it.

What can you achieve, if success is the only possible outcome?