I glanced at my calendar mid-sip and nearly choked on my coffee. It stared back at me, whispering, “You really thought cramming in 37 meetings before lunch was a good idea, huh?” It was Tuesday, and I already felt like taking a nap. Again.
Putting the coffee down with a dramatic sigh, I wondered: Did I voluntarily sign up for my own bournout Olympics? My overly busy schedule wasn’t ambition—it was straight-up anxiety wearing nice shoes, sprinting away from imaginary disasters labeled "failure," "what-if-I'm-actually-incompetent," “I’ll-nerver-catch-up,” and the ever-popular "everyone-else-has-it-together-except-me."
Let’s get real: somewhere along the line, we all bought into the wild conspiracy theory that busy equals worthy. Like, if your phone’s buzzing nonstop and your calendar’s jam-packed, you’re clearly winning at life, right? Spoiler alert: No one is actually giving out medals for juggling social media pings and back-to-back Zoom calls.
Why are we like this? Control. It’s our misguided, kinda cute attempt at feeling like we’ve got life figured out—when in reality, life is laughing behind our backs, eating popcorn, watching us color-code ourselves into chaos.
Admitting my busyness addiction felt a bit like discovering I was frantically running in a race I never agreed to enter. Embarrassing, definitely, but mostly hilarious.
So maybe step one is admitting it, and step two? Scheduling absurdly realistic breaks like “snack-and-question-life-choices” or “procrastination-appreciation-hour.”
I’d love to say I've mastered the art of the chill calendar, but here I am, confessing this mess on a Saturday afternoon. Clearly, it’s a work in progress. But here’s the thing: your worth isn't tied to your ability to juggle fire while tap-dancing—sometimes it’s enough to just sit back and watch the circus. And trust me, that imaginary bear chasing us all? He doesn’t care how productive we are; he probably just wants popcorn, too.
Your turn:
If your calendar had a personality, would it be your friend, therapist, or frenemy?
How many of your meetings could've actually just been a well-written email?
What's the weirdest thing you've ever scheduled just to feel productive?
If "procrastination-appreciation-hour" was mandatory, how would you spend it?
Be honest: How many calendar alerts do you snooze daily, and why do we keep doing it?