Lately, I've been adamant about attaining goals I set for myself.

I've begun pouring my energy into a business venture I'll soon share with the world, I've finally started renovating my room after months of speculation, and I've broken my exercise hiatus, focusing strenuously on these jiggly thighs.

I'm no longer putting things off, but instead tackling them fearlessly.

It's exciting to wake up with a considerable list of tasks to complete.

Having a positive outlook is vital when undergoing such a lifestyle change, but temptation is never far behind.

Whenever I'm skimming through my email, I always see the biggest deals at my favorite restaurants, knowing good and well that eating anything from them is going to be two days' worth of calories.

The other day, just before a snowstorm hit the northeastern region of the country, I told myself I would be snowed in with plenty of work to do. Painting my room, writing more articles and calling back some bill collectors were on the agenda.

Then, I got a call from my friend, wanting to go to happy hour, followed by a trip to a hookah bar. She also thought it would be cool to finish the night off with girl talk, capped off by brownies and Talenti.

Now, anyone who knows me knows it's against my nature to deny a good happy hour.

My fingers speedily typed yes as my conscience went into overdrive. I could hear that annoying voice in my head saying, "I thought you were staying in this weekend. Didn't you just say that you were done aimlessly spending money?"

My psyche was right.

Focusing on me was a necessity and going out wasn't. Happy hour would be detrimental to my diet, wallet and will power.

So I went out that night and had a blast.

Sure, I didn't do as I originally planned, but instead of staying out all night, I came back at an appropriate hour and decided to hang my wall shelves.

See, I am learning.

When life happens and things I planned don't go accordingly, I don't blow productivity off altogether. I'm taking baby steps to success.

When you're on a mental, spiritual and physical cleanse, you simply can't do the things you're accustomed to.

Being on a journey of self-actualization requires many sacrifices that aren't fun to make. During this period, also, some friends will become very distant.

If they're not devoting themselves to the same plan, they simply won't understand why you haven't "turnt up" with them in a while or why you're acting like an old person. And truthfully, it's not for them to comprehend.

Your financial status, body image and whatever else people my age are dying to change depend upon how much work you put forth, not your friends.

If you're like me, you may lack a bit of discipline. I attribute that to wanting to live in the moment and not giving my finances or health a second thought.

I now see that putting the work in while I'm young will improve my quality of life later on.

Just yesterday, I was riding down a winding road in the middle of the suburbs. My car crept at a steady pace in the midst of the evening as I looked entrancingly at the mini-mansions sitting distanced from the curb and up on tall hills.

Each home had enough space to run, skip, jump, live, laugh and love.

A car sped up behind me and I pulled over to the side, placing my hazards on, letting them fly by.

I wasn't ready to leave yet. I couldn't help but think that I need to be here.

I need my children and their children to be products of this type of environment.

It wasn't about the house. It was more about realizing the work ethic I need to have to attain one.

I'm sacrificing partying and toxic foods and relationships for the chance at a life I could only imagine.

These houses, beautifully lit and covered by the purest snow I'd ever seen, inspired me.

They always did.

When I'm 30- or 40-something and walking around barefoot on my heated marble floors, I'll thank my younger self for all those times I turned my friends down on their happy hour invites.

Zahara Johnson's column appears regularly in b.