When I was little, I used to tell people that I wanted to be both a ballerina and an astronaut when I grew up. I can’t help but smile at the naivety of this as someone who grew up to be extremely uncoordinated with zero proclivity toward STEM. But go off little me, dream big.
Even from a young age, I was somehow under the impression that it would be no problem to lead a lifestyle that let me dance the Nutcracker on Tuesday evening and shoot off into space when Wednesday came. Multitasking would be my religion.
Later on in life, I took a hard left turn into the humanities, and I later found myself thrown into the world of freelancing. A part-time job here, an hourly contract there. If you’ve been reading my newsletter for a while now, you know that my chameleon-like tendencies are both my strength and my weakness, so as much as I loved that freelancing allowed me to be the wearer of many hats, I’d be lying if I told you it’s not exhausting, too.
It’s funny, though. Every time someone asks me what I love about the type of work I do, I say how much I love getting to do a little bit of everything. No two days are the same. I avoid boredom at all costs, so it’s the god-honest truth. But, I’ve come to learn that there’s a fine line between intentionally diversifying what I do and allowing myself to be pulled in a million directions.
I’m sad to say, most of my waking hours are spent behind a screen of some sort. You’d probably be sad to say the same thing. I wake up, check my phone, pop open my work computer, and usually end the day watching some sort of trashy reality show. But, my screen-to-screen flow is anything but a linear, neat experience. It’s all happening at once…a quick ‘ping’ of a notification on my phone while I’m midway through answering an email during a virtual meeting. Multitasking is not only my norm, it’s my default. The story I tell myself is that this is the most efficient and logical approach, but the result is feigned productivity and massively heightened anxiety.
You know how it goes — doom scrolling, obsessively checking emails, me embarrassingly watching your Instagram story three seconds after you post it. The dress starts to wear me instead of me wearing the dress, so to speak.
Anxiety is not new to me; I’m actually an extremely anxious person (please, try to hide your shock). I have a few tried and true ways of managing my specific brand anxiety, which are not novel by any means. The old standbys: exercise, quality sleep, nutrition, vitamin D. But, the one that has been the most profound for me lately is monotasking. The antithesis to my nature.
In theory, it’s so simple, but in practice, it’s not so easy. Just do one thing at a time. That’s it.
These are the ways I’ve been trying it out:
Putting my phone on ‘do not disturb’ when I read
Using the Pomodoro timer at work (25 minutes on, 5 minutes off, repeat)
Scheduling things I normally don’t…my therapist’s suggestion was to put time on my calendar for overthinking (I’m not allowed to overthink outside of that time. I’m going to try it this week, so I’ll report back!)
Folding laundry, without a podcast as background noise
Going on walks without my headphones
Muting notifications
Monotasking has given my brain space to breathe. It has given it a structure that doesn’t feel constricting, but freeing instead. I’m retiring the badge of honor that Girl Bosses™ bestowed upon me for being the queen of multitasking, and I’m remembering that the world does not rest solely on my tired shoulders. I’m very much over the habit of handing my anxiety so many easy wins. It’s more than okay to do one thing at a time, and the world will keep spinning, even if I’m on ‘do not disturb.’
If you’ve made it this far, you’re a real one. The fact that you read my writing means the world to me. “Are you mad at me?” is a free publication, but, let’s be honest, I’m a working gal! If you’re so inclined to show the love via a pledge or paid subscription, I’ll name my firstborn after you.