Multitasking Myself Into Oblivion

The alarm clock screamed at me like I owed it money. I groggily reached for my phone, smacked it off the nightstand, and let it blare from the floor like a siren of doom.

I took a deep breath, stared at the ceiling, and considered my options. Option A: get up and attempt to function like a real adult. Option B: ignore everything and let my problems sort themselves out.

Option B was tempting, but unfortunately, rent didn’t pay itself.

Today’s agenda was overwhelming, as usual:

• Suffer through my pre-scheduled Fitness+ workout because past me was a psycho.

• Record a Yu-Gi-Oh! video before my actual job crushed my soul.

• Work my real job, where I stood for hours and questioned my life choices.

• Find something resembling food in the city without going broke or consuming pure regret.

• Edit my video before YouTube’s algorithm forgot I existed.

• Maybe—just maybe—acknowledge my friends’ existence before they filed a missing person’s report.

I sighed and rolled onto my yoga mat, launching the Fitness+ app with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to his own execution.

The Fitness+ Regret Spiral

My instructor was way too energetic for 8 AM.

“Alright, let’s CRUSH this workout today!” he chirped, practically glowing with motivation.

I was in no mood to crush anything except my phone under a dumbbell. But I hit play because I was responsible (and also because my knees were two weeks away from a full-blown rebellion).

Fifteen minutes in, I was drenched in sweat, contemplating my mortality, and absolutely certain this app was created by someone who hated joy.

The only thing getting me through this nightmare was the promise of overpriced caffeine.

Overpriced Breakfast & Financial Ruin

I dragged myself to Starbucks, handed over my life savings, and received a coffee that barely qualified as “medium.” I stared at the receipt.

“$7.95 for this?” I muttered. “What am I drinking? Liquid enlightenment?”

Next up: food.

I considered my options.

• Daily Provisions had chicken so aggressively plain it made hospital food look seasoned, and yet, they charged $22 for the privilege.

• Joe & The Juice had a ginger shot, a strawberry protein smoothie, and a sandwich—arguably the healthiest option—but at $20, it felt more like an investment than a meal.

• A deli or pizza joint was the cheapest and easiest choice, but the inevitable regret that followed eating an entire pepperoni slice the size of my face was a guarantee.

In the end, I sighed and walked into a deli, knowing full well I was about to consume 80% grease and 20% self-loathing. Breakfast, lunch or dinner, having any of these at work was pissing my wallet off.

The Corporate Grind (AKA Standing For Eight Hours & Contemplating My Existence)

Work was the usual soul-crushing experience. No coworkers, just me, my boss (if he hadn’t already disappeared), and a steady stream of guests asking the same five questions on repeat.

Guest #1: “Where’s the bathroom?” (Directly behind you. Turn around. Please. I beg you.)

Guest #2: “Do you work here?” (No, I just wear this uniform for fun. It’s my passion.)

Guest #3: “Can you call me a cab?” (Sure. You’re a cab.)

By lunch, my stomach was demanding another meal, but my budget had other plans. I reached into my bag and pulled out my emergency baby carrots.

Nothing humbles a man like eating plain baby carrots for sustenance while watching someone else casually spend $18 on avocado toast.

At least I had a can of sparkling water. Unfortunately, it was from a brand I hadn’t tried before, and it tasted like sadness with a hint of expired battery acid.

I sighed. Just a few more hours to go.

The YouTube Hustle (AKA Why Do I Do This to Myself?)

By the time I got home, my energy was at zero, my motivation was negative, and my Yu-Gi-Oh! video still needed to be done.

The thing about being a content creator is that it’s like having a second full-time job—except this one pays in exposure and occasional disappointment.

It was a good thing my face isn’t in the shot or I would have to harsly judge what I saw while editing.

“Hey guys, welcome back to the channel! Today we’re talking about—”

DING. A notification popped up.

Boss: Hey, can you come in 15 minutes early tomorrow?

I stared at the message. Contemplated my life. Thought about running away to the woods to live a simpler life where my biggest concern was which berries were poisonous.

Then, like the responsible adult I was, I hit “like” on the message (which in corporate-speak meant “I acknowledge my suffering”) and got back to filming.

Once I wrapped up, I flopped onto the couch, grabbed another can of sparkling water (knowing it was probably going to taste like television static), and scrolled my phone.

Mark: Dude, are you alive? Or did you finally get kidnapped by an MLM recruiter?

Ah yes, the guilt of being a terrible friend.

I considered responding with my usual “Busy week, man. Let’s catch up soon!” but even I was tired of that excuse.

Something had to change.

The Ultimate Survive-It-All Strategy™

I opened my laptop and typed out an emergency plan:

1. Schedule EVERYTHING. My planner was my lifeline. If it wasn’t scheduled, it didn’t exist.

2. Meal Prep or Financial Ruin. If I wanted to stop spending my paycheck on Starbucks and overpriced chicken, I needed to actually cook. Even if that meant eating chicken and broccoli until I lost my mind.

3. Micro-Workouts to Trick My Body. If I couldn’t do a full workout, I’d break it into ten-minute chunks.

4. Time-Locked Socializing. Instead of ignoring my friends for weeks, I’d schedule short meet-ups. Even a quick (overpriced) coffee was better than radio silence.

5. One Thing at a Time. Multitasking was a lie. No more editing while eating and answering emails while having an existential crisis.

The Results: Still Overwhelmed, But Slightly Less Likely to Have a Meltdown

Did my plan magically fix my life? No. Did I still feel like I was barely holding it together? Absolutely. But at least now, I wasn’t actively drowning.

By the weekend, I even managed to schedule post my Yu-Gi-Oh! video. A rare victory.

Then I checked the comments.

User101: “Dude, your upload schedule is more consistent than my Wi-Fi.”

You know what? Fair.

But at least I was still here.