💥 I Got a Lot Done—and Forgot to Live (Until I Didn’t)
If Monday’s post was about the difference between being and doing, today’s post is about what happens when I forget that entirely and try to outrun life with my to-do list.
Spoiler: it doesn't work. But it does make for a very vivid dream.
It started with It’s a Sin.
I stayed up late watching It’s a Sin—the show about a group of boys in London during the AIDS crisis in the 80s. Beautiful. Devastating. Haunting.
At midnight, the panic crept in: If I don’t go to bed now, I’ll be useless tomorrow. I have a lot to do. Why do I do this to myself?
Cue the anxiety spiral. Cue the not-sleeping. At 5:30am I finally fed the dogs and laid down, just as Kelly was getting up.
“I’m wasting the day,” I thought. “I’m wasting time.”
And then I slept for two hours. Glorious, deep, redemptive sleep. And a dream that basically called me out.
Dream sequence: Life as a Whack-a-Mole Road Trip
I’m on a family trip—my dad, my kid, a black cat. I decide to be efficient and stop for an oil change. We drive through a car wash. Everyone gets out. My dad goes for a run. The dogs and cat go rogue. People scatter. Chaos reigns.
And I’m sitting in a concrete lot thinking: This is not efficient. This is a disaster. Where’s the cat? Did they even change the oil? Oh—and they didn’t. Because I had the keys.
The goal had been to check off the to-do list. But the more I tried to check things off, the more things came undone.
Whack-a-mole. Only it’s my life.
And then I woke up.
To a literal shit show. The plumbers arrived to begin a 5-day job of replacing every pipe under our house. Jackhammering. Barking dogs. A smelly basement. We’ll be out of town all next week. The dogs will be at daycare. Would it have been more gentle to wait a week? Yes. Obviously. Did I wait? No. I scheduled it for the first available slot because: “Let’s get it done!”
But is this what life has turned into? A relentless series of days to get through?
Who lies on their deathbed and says,
“Wow, I really got a lot done.” Life well lived.
And still—there was a moment.
I packed my laptop and ran from the jackhammers. Tried to write outside. Then the plumbers loaded concrete into the truck. I ran to the third floor. Barking. Jackhammers. Kelly shouting: “We have 5 minutes of water left! Hurry up and poop!”
This is not it. This is not how I want to be.
So I shook my head, packed up again, and left. I walked to the coffee shop.
On the way, I slowed down. I noticed a brilliant flower. I smelled it. It was a Rose of Sharon—light purple, radiant. It felt like a treasure. Like a reminder.
Rose of Sharon, a beautiful gift in slowing down
At the coffee shop, I received the most beautiful cup of coffee. I didn’t just taste it. I saw it.
Latte @TazzaDoro, beautiful and delicious!
On the table: an article about 10 remarkable museums in Pittsburgh. What?! A tattoo museum in our neighborhood—and it’s free. Yes, please.
I sat. I sipped. I noticed a mom playing with her kids. I watched, not in a creepy way, but a “this is life” kind of way.
And then the barista walked by wearing a Naruto shirt and TomboyX boxers—just like me.
I complimented the shirt. Their face lit up. (I decided not to mention the boxers. That’s weird, right?)
So here we are.
It’s still Monday. The house is still a mess. The water is still off. The dogs are still confused.
But I’m here. Not just getting through it. Living it.
And that’s the shift.
From “how fast can I get this done?” To:
“What do I want to experience this week?” “What would feel kind today?” “What might delight me?”
P.S. If you missed Monday’s post on dopamine, serotonin, and nachos vs. salad—you can read it [here]. (← insert your Monday link)
And if you’re in your own jackhammer Monday today, I see you. You’re not alone.
🌪️ Too Much Monday Joy Menu
(Not for checking off. For checking in.)
Appetizers
Lie down on the floor. Breathe like no one’s watching.
Rub your feet on something soft. That counts.
Sip water. Slowly. Let it matter.
Nourishment
Journal one sentence that starts with: “This is a lot…”
Ask someone for a favor (even a small one). Receive it.
Make food you’d give to someone recovering.
Sweetness
Scroll on purpose to find one queer joy post and smile at it.
Doodle in the margins. Color outside the lines.
Wrap yourself in a blanket like a burrito of resilience.
Digestif
Tell someone, “It’s a lot, but I’m doing what I can.”
Loved this! Such a great reminder! And for the record, you are not alone, lots of mess over at my place too! Hang in there!