Optimization paralysis is killing me

Catch me nothingmaxxing

I have one or two nights a week to myself to relax, recharge, and get my life administration tasks done well enough to function. I get off work around 4:30 pm and go to bed around 11 pm, which leaves 6.5 precious hours for me to get groceries, do laundry, work out, cook, clean, watch tv, respond to texts, and do whatever other tasks come up. This is if everything goes according to plan, which it rarely does.

Feeling the pinch of limited time has inspired a madness-inducing desire to optimize my every free moment. My thought process on a given night looks something like this:

“I desperately need to work out tonight while I have the chance because I’ll be too busy later in the week to go to the gym. I could work out at my apartment gym which would be free or I could go to a yoga class for $15 and then I won’t have to worry about planning my workout. Either way, I need to have dinner before I work out and I don’t want to eat out because I should try to save money, but I don’t have all the ingredients I need for what I want to make. So I should go to the grocery store, but if I go to the grocery store, I might as well stock up on some other items but at that point it’ll be a $100 grocery trip so maybe I should just pick up Chipotle and eat my leftovers tomorrow? And if I go get groceries, the library is on the way so I should also turn in my overdue library book but I didn’t plan to return the book so I need to stop at my apartment to go get it and I should also grab my reusable bag and I should also probably put in a load of laundry while I’m there so I guess I’m running errands now so now I won’t have time for the yoga class…..”

And on and on like this. The constant need to prep, plan, and prioritize begins to weigh on me and I feel defeated, exhausted, and stressed before I’ve checked a single box on my to-do list.

This line of thinking is rational to a fault. I’m convinced that if I just keep the train of thought going until its logical conclusion, that the problem of how I can best spend my evening will be solved.

But how we spend our time is not a problem to be solved at all, is it?

Life is meant to be lived, not optimized or maxxed but I can’t seem to break out of my obsessive thought loop about making the most efficient choices possible. Maybe if I had more alone time, I wouldn’t feel this way? Maybe if I standardize my routines then I won’t have so much decision fatigue? But isn’t variety the spice of life? I want to spontaneous and who knows what I’ll want tomorrow for dinner anyway?

I could shift my efforts toward eliminating choice to reduce my decision fatigue but I’d be lying if I didn’t find a thrilling element to having free time and planning it as I see fit. Before I get to the paralysis phase, I’m enraptured by the idea that I could do anything I want with my time! I could waste it scrolling on Instagram or I could immerse myself in a book. I could cook myself an elaborate meal or I could eat takeout until I want to puke. I could go see a movie or hang out by the pool. I could make a cocktail or start a journey of sobriety.

What’s most frustrating for me is that sometimes I just don’t know what it is I want. In an hour of desperation, I once asked ChatGPT what I should do with my evening because my decision fatigue got so bad. I’m not proud of it. Man is free but everywhere is in chains. My personal chains? Free will, the 40 hour workweek, and too many fucking salad dressing options at Whole Foods.

Instead of picking making a choice and sticking to it, I explore the possibilities until I’m worn out by the thought of doing anything.

I’m always “shoulding” myself. I should go to the gym. I should work a few extra hours. I should go on a walk. I should call my friend. I should clean my cabinets. The truth is that the work will always be there.

I have to remind myself all the time: I don’t actually have to make the most rational or efficient choice. And I can’t. Every choice I make means the other options are no longer possibilities. It’s hard for me to accept that. I grieve the small choices I don’t make along with the big ones.

I put a lot of pressure on my choices. I want to live a long healthy life, but I want to squeeze the juice out of every experience and sometimes those two don’t always run in tandem. I suppose it’s all about balance or embracing the seasons of life or whatever.

Either way, it doesn’t have to make sense. It can be inefficient. I can take my time to meander instead of taking the fastest route. Maybe I should. I miss the scenic route.

I want to move with languor because I can. I’m allowed to move at my own pace. No one is looking over my shoulder, chastising me for my idleness, other than me. And I can tell myself to shut my damn mouth!

My free time doesn’t have to be productive, but I must make a choice, my choice, any choice, about how to spend it.