How to waste time.

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As always, check out the audio version of this post to hear me read this essay and talk in more detail about this week’s essay subject (which you can subscribe to on your podcast feed so it populates automatically when it goes live, by the way!). And a reminder for paid subscribers that my March 2024 Month in The Life content is currently live! PS: You can pre-order my debut novel SUCH A BAD INFLUENCE now! And stay tuned for the end of this essay to find out how to get a signed bookplate and friendship bracelet with your pre-order of SABI!

I like to consider myself a seasoned professional at wasting time. In my 30-plus years, I have procrastinated in basically any way you can imagine. More than once, I have seriously pondered the question, “But wouldn’t it be so much easier and more satisfying to type if my nails were done?” I know, I know. I’m not saying it’s my best trait. And yes, I also know we’ve been over all of this. What I want to talk about today is different. What I want to talk about today is the difference between wasting time in a way that feels, well, like the opposite of wasting or losing anything, and wasting time in a way that feels exactly how it sounds, like I’m letting time, joy, and contentment slip through my fingers, or more accurately, just kicking it all out the door, despite knowing better.

I would say I want to offer you some “better” ways to waste time today but really, as always, this is all just a giant reminder to myself. There are better ways to relax, unwind, or zone out than the ways I often choose to. I know this. But sometimes I need to remember, so here we are. Consider this a set of possible alternatives to wasting time, a choose-your-own-adventure guide map to feeling, maybe, marginally better than you would otherwise.

Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling.

Sure, you could spend anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour scrolling through social media and tell yourself it’s just for fun. That it’s all just silly, really. Mindless entertainment. A way to check out of real life for a few minutes. You could tell yourself that you’re not absorbing everyone else’s face and life and body, that none of it is sinking under your skin, not even a little bit. You could remember that it’s all a highlight reel, more performance than reality, really, and this will comfort you for a minute, maybe, before you forget again. You’ll wonder why it’s so easy to forget, and then you’ll wonder if maybe it doesn’t matter that so much of it is altered, enhanced, optimized, because at the end of the day, your life/face/body is never going to look like that, no matter many times you crop or edit or airbrush it into submission. You’ll feel a little rotten then, and you’ll tell yourself the problem is you instead of the hyper-addictive, made-for-you algorithm. If you had more willpower, you’d put the thing down, go read a book. If you had more interesting things to do, you’d delete the app, go create something meaningful. If you had that life/face/body, then none of it would bother you so much at all. Deep down, you’ll know better, of course, but the feeling will remain, the rottenness clinging to you the rest of the day like smoke.

Alternative: Pinterest, Substack, or literally anything else please, I beg of you.

One “north star” for me this year has been to create more than I consume when it comes to social media. It’s not so much that I’ve stuck to this rule (hence, this essay), but it’s a reminder that has felt really good to me. I don’t necessarily mean posting more than I scroll, either, but rather putting more time into creating my own world and life than absorbing everyone else’s. This means writing, sure, but also working on my Substack, getting dressed, cooking meals, designing rooms… the list goes on! I feel better when I stick to this. I think this is why opening Pinterest or Substack instead of Instagram sometimes helps me (I almost never scroll on TikTok anymore, which is a development I feel great about). Not only is scrolling on Pinterest or Substack less compulsive, but it often leaves me feeling more inspired and excited about my own life than other apps. Can Instagram inspire me too? Of course. There are so many people I follow who inspire me. But it’s just way too easy for me to spend way too much time consuming so many other people’s lives, getting lost in comparison spirals. If you’re sitting there thinking, “Man, if she struggles with scrolling on Instagram so much why doesn’t she stop posting, too?” then that’s a fair question, I guess. But I love sharing. I want to continue sharing. I want to continue following other people, too. I just don’t want to find myself in that deep, dark, compulsive scrolling spiral as much anymore.

The 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. dead zone.

If you’re anything like me, then you probably find yourself arriving at 6 p.m. each evening with the overwhelming urge to power your brain down. It doesn’t matter what kind of day I’ve had, 90 percent of the time, I will get to the end of the work day and crave nothing as much as I crave sitting on the couch with dinner and turning on the TV and turning off my brain. Most of the time, I eat and watch television, and then I scroll on my phone and watch television, and I’d probably tell you in the moment that it feels good, that nothing would feel better, really, but the truth is that it’s never really about feeling good as much as it’s about feeling nothing. I rarely think about how my food tastes, or what I’m watching, really. If I’m honest, it’s not about true relaxation. It’s about numbing myself. And look, maybe you have small children and the Dead Zone is the only thing you can imagine for yourself at the end of the day, or maybe it’s exactly the thing you need – that’s fair. To each their own. But for me, the truth is that this is a form of wasting time that doesn’t really give me anything. Often, it just makes me feel worse. It sends me off on a nightly scrolling fiesta, one that continues from the couch to the bathroom while I get ready for bed to the bed itself. It’s not that I want this time to be productive, but I do want it to be actually relaxing. And this pattern? It’s many things, but truly, deeply relaxing is not one of them.

Alternative: Intentional entertainment.

I am a firm believer that life could use less busy-ness and more fun, more rest. I really do think that pretty much all of us, regardless of career or lifestyle, could use more of both of these things. But the Dead Zone is not fun for me, nor is it restful. It’s just… well, dead. If there’s any section of my life that I feel is truly wasted, it’s this. And I don’t want that! I want fun! For a long time, I imagined my ideal post-dinner wind-down routine as involving things that were really, truly relaxing – dinner and conversation at the table with Jake, reading a book with a cup of tea afterward. But the truth is that it’s been hard for me to do that every night. My brain is hardwired to want the Dead Zone, to turn on the television, and I’m not trying to shame myself for that at all. After all, I love TV! I love entertainment! Something that I’ve found helps is to actually consider what will actually entertain me, rather than numb me. Movies, in particular, have been something that I’ve found fit this bill. First of all, there’s a concrete start and end point. You can’t just watch an episode then try to find something else. You can’t binge-watch late into the night. You have to be paying attention most of the time. It feels like more of an “event.” I am more likely to put my phone away and really sink into the story, less likely to switch it off and find something else to watch. It’s a small thing, I know, but it’s representative of what I’m trying to change about the Dead Zone. I want to reach the end of every day and lean into true relaxation, not oblivion. We’re working on it.

Trying to use other people’s careers as a benchmark, guidebook, or punishment.

Over time, I’ve realized that there is a particularly competitive edge to the publishing industry. To be clear, I’ve met and connected with dozens of supportive, kind authors who have helped me along my own journey, but there seems to be a sort of inward comparison game that every writer is playing, almost all the time (at least with most writers I’ve talked to, anyway). Sure, we all know better, but the questions are there, anyway. You wonder if you would sell more books or make more money or get better reviews if you were doing X/Y/Z. And it makes sense. Writing is a solitary job, and a vulnerable one. It’s a volatile, unpredictable industry, too. There’s no guarantee for career longevity, no way to ensure a viral BookTok sensation, an instant best-seller, but you search for ways to confirm your own value as an author, anyway. You search for signs that you are good enough, or marketable enough. It becomes the easiest, most tempting thing in the world to look at another writer’s work and compare and contrast. I’ve done it dozens of times since SUCH A BAD INFLUENCE was announced last summer, trying to find something to cling to that says I’m good enough, or my book is good enough, or that there will be another book, or one after that. It’s a rabbit hole that feels worse the deeper you go, and the more you dig, the easier it is to keep digging. It never helps.

Alternative: Radical, earnest, borderline annoying gratitude.

My goal for this year was to publish my first book and to be grateful for the experience more than I was prone to comparison. Gratitude over comparison. I even have a sticky note in my phone case that says G > C. I see it every day, which is apt because I have moments of comparison every day. In the worst moments, I close my eyes and I tell myself I’m grateful, but don’t feel it at all. I basically yell it at myself, really. I’m grateful to be writing every day. I’m grateful to have a dream fulfilled. I’m grateful for a platform. I’m grateful that I’ve found something I love so much. I’m grateful, I’m grateful, I’m grateful. And at first it’s obnoxious. Earnest and cloying and cheesy. I want to say, “Yeah, well, gratitude doesn’t sell books.” Because it doesn’t. I know that. But neither does comparison. Obsessing over someone’s career path and how it lines up with mine never made me work harder or create something better. It just distracted me from joy and inspiration and contentedness. And sure, I want to be a full-time author. I want a career that spans decades. I want to be able to write all the time, to create every day. But I don’t want to do that at the expense of joy and inspiration. If I’m honest and rational, I don’t think that comparing myself or my career more often will actually make me more successful at all. It’s a good reminder that when it comes to anything, comparison isn’t really about rationality at all. It’s about fear and shame. And what good did those two things ever do anyone?

One last thing: My publisher is doing a super fun preorder campaign right now! Folks who preorder SUCH A BAD INFLUENCE and submit their receipt will get a signed bookplate and a bookmark. The first 200 entrants will also receive a friendship bracelet that says ‘BAD INFLUENCE.’ This preorder campaign will be US only, 18+, and will end a week after the book's release on 6/11. More info below! You can sign find details here.

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