That Awkward Mirror Moment
Okay, so last Tuesday, it hit me hard. Found myself just staring at my phone, scrolling mindlessly through stuff I genuinely dislike seeing, you know? Like binge-watching Tiktok for hours instead of doing literally anything else. Felt that familiar wave of disappointment crash over me. Not the first time, obviously. Felt lazy, unproductive, and kinda… stuck in my own bad habits. The worst part? Knew exactly what I was doing while I was doing it! Sat there thinking, “Man, this ain’t me.” Or rather, this is the me I really don’t wanna be.
Actually Writing it Down
Had this old notebook gathering dust – the nice leather one Sarah gave me for Christmas. Cracked it open, grabbed a pen that actually worked (miraculous!), and just started scribbling. Didn’t filter. Didn’t judge the handwriting (which is terrible). Just dumped everything I could think of that bugged me about how I handle stuff.
Here’s what poured out:
- Procrastination King: Putting off calls, emails, even washing dishes till the sink screams.
- Negative Spiral: Letting one tiny setback ruin my whole dang afternoon.
- Phone Zombie: Reaching for the stupid rectangle every five minutes, even when nobody texts!
- All Talk, Little Action: Got tons of ideas swirling, actually starting them? Nope.
- Internal Critic on Steroids: That nasty voice in my head telling me I’ll screw up before I even try.
Staring at that list was rough. Like seeing the worst parts of myself, all bullet-pointed and undeniable. Felt heavy. But weirdly, also a tiny bit relieving. Like naming the monsters under the bed.
Digging for Solutions, Not Just Whining
Fine, wallowing done. Time to actually do something. Didn’t want fluffy motivational quotes. Needed concrete, dumb-simple things I could actually do. Took a break, brewed some disgustingly strong coffee (instant, because of course), and got back to the notebook. Made myself come up with at least five potential fixes, things that felt small enough to maybe not fail at.
The 5 Baby Steps I’m Trying
Alright, here’s what I landed on. No promises they’re genius, just stuff I’m testing out:
- The 2-Minute Rule: If something takes less than two minutes? Just bloody well do it NOW. Putting away laundry, answering that quick text, filing that paper. Honestly shocked how much clutter this clears, mentally and physically.
- Phone Jail & Scheduled Scrolling: This one’s brutal. Bought a literal small lockbox with a timer (found it dusty in a cupboard). After waking up, phone goes in for 90 minutes. Period. Also set specific times to check socials/email (like 11am, 4pm, 8pm). No sneak peeks. The withdrawal itch is real, lemme tell you.
- One Thing, Then Break: Instead of staring at my giant “write a blog post” task and freezing, I break it down. Write the intro paragraph? That’s it. Goal met! Reward? Five minutes staring out the window or a quick walk around the block. Makes big stuff feel less scary.
- Gratitude Grab: When the negative voice starts ranting (“This will bomb,” “You suck at this”), I force myself to stop. Literally stop. Then grab the notebook and scribble down three small, stupid things I’m grateful for that moment. Hot coffee. Sunlight on the floor. My dumb dog snoring. Doesn’t fix the problem, but dials down the internal rage-machine long enough to breathe.
- Accountability Shout: Texting my buddy James every damn morning with ONE thing I WILL do that day. Not “might,” not “should” – WILL. Even if it’s tiny. Like “Today, WILL send that email to Dave.” Knowing I have to tell him I did (or didn’t) keeps me honest. Sometimes embarrassing, always effective.
One Week In: Real Talk
The hell with rules, I ain’t perfect at this. Slacked on the phone jail twice already. Got sucked into a negativity vortex yesterday over a spilled smoothie (yep, that dumb). But, some things stuck. Knocking out the tiny 2-minute tasks feels surprisingly awesome. Seeing the phone locked away gives me actual physical calm sometimes. Told James I’d write this post snippet today, and here I am, doing it. That’s a win, however small.
This wasn’t some instant magic fix. Still got all those things I don’t like staring right back at me. But now, it feels like I’m poking them back. Experimenting. Trying tiny moves instead of just sighing on the couch. The notebook stays open. Baby steps, right?
