random things i did this week instead of doomscrolling

part 1 of trying not to live for the weekends anymore

I’ve been working a 9-5 for a few years now and I realised the other day that my life had turned into an endless loop of living for the weekends.

Every week had started to look the same: trudge through the week, feel my mood rise steadily as Friday approached, and then drop exponentially as I faced the dreaded Sunday scaries with Monday looming in the horizon.

It all came to a peak when I had my fifth quarter life crisis of the year;

“I feel like all I do is work and live for the weekends” I’d cried in exasperation after an hour-long rant on the phone to my mum.

And the thing is, it wasn’t even like my weekends were all that enjoyable. After spending all week wishing it were the weekend, when it finally did come I was too exhausted to do anything. I’d spend the majority of my time on my phone, blasting my brain with short-form content as a form of ‘relaxation’ before repeating it all over again the next week.

And I wondered why I was always tired.

My weeknights looked the same, I’d come back from work, flop onto the couch and open Instagram without a second thought. Except this time, I was able to justify it a little more because I’d just spent 8 hours at work and I was tired.

But frying my brain when I got back home probably wasn’t going to make the tiredness any better.

And in the moments where I asked myself why I had no hobbies, why I wasn’t seeing my friends or doing anything that brought me joy, a string of excuses always followed:

I have no time.

I’m exhausted from work.

I have no energy to go out.

But that’s the thing about these excuses - I couldn’t be surprised that I was always exhausted and low on energy if I wasn’t doing anything to bring my energy up.

And if I could spend four hours on my phone, despite having work and other obligations, I could find a couple of hours in the day to do something else. Something that actually brought me joy, broke me out of my daily routine.

And so my week of random side-quests began.

writing, but make it pointless

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sat down and given myself permission to write without any boundaries or expectations.

My writing to date had been limited to the dedicated Substack post (hello!) or email at work, and both of those things followed a set structure, outline, and had an end goal - whether that be to craft a complete story or message.

So I sat down with one goal in mind: to write freely. There were no rules, I didn’t need to complete anything, and I could write as my mind moved. I wanted to put back in the creative onus that comes with writing, to fall back in love with the craft.

I gave myself 30 minutes and in that time I alternated between a rant of the state of the world, a dump of my heightened emotions from the past week, and a short story loosely based on the characters from Ginny and Georgia. It was strangely therapeutic and actually how this article idea was born.

romanticising my life… starting with flowers

Upon reflection, I don’t think I’ve ever gifted myself flowers. I had seen people on the internet talking about the liberation of buying yourself flowers, of not relying on your partner or friends or family to buy them for you. So I challenged myself to go buy some after work one day. I had no other plans on this fine Tuesday evening (apart from doomscrolling on my couch) so I figured I had nothing to lose.

I felt silly as I walked in, quickly darting over to the flower aisle to witness a handful of slim pickings - wilted roses and un-bloomed lilies sat sadly in their buckets of water. I debated just walking out, dejected that this experience had not shaped out how I hoped it would, but eventually decided that even un-bloomed flowers were better than none at all.

And even though I felt a bit odd walking home with my flower-less bouquet, I realised at the end of this week that I quite liked the experience of watching lilies bloom.

a random wednesday night at a darts bar

I usually avoid going out on the weekdays after work with the exception of Friday night because I have to be up early the next day. But I realised this was probably one of the contributing factors to my doomscrolling and overall life crises so I went to a darts bar after work and dragged a friend with me.

The bar was really quiet (who knew the best time to go out was on a random Wednesday night) so most of the boards were free, save for a group of what I assumed were regulars based on their loud jests when someone missed the board. We bought a round of drinks (happy hour was still alive and well) and played several rounds of darts; (I also didn’t know there were so many games) 907 and cricket were among my favourites.

We ended the night grabbing dinner in the city before heading home, and the most shocking part of it all was that by this point it was only 10pm, even though I felt like we had been out for so long. Time really stretches when you’re busy, and if I were at home I would most likely still be on my phone.

remembering how to play chess (and how to lose again)

One of my favourite hobbies growing up was chess. I went to lessons before school, I played almost every afternoon, and for a while, I was even good at it.

My younger self would put me to shame now, most-likely check-mating me in a handful of moves. She was out there competing and winning in tournaments, thinking several steps ahead and anticipating her opponent’s next move.

Meanwhile, I had to sit and teach myself where each piece went, relearn how they all moved.

So I downloaded chess.com and played my first game against a beginner bot.

This is easy, I thought to myself, effortlessly defeating the bot in less than 5 minutes. I then played my first game against a human being and lost in 2 minutes.

But there was something about putting myself out there and opening myself up to failure that felt liberating.

While the first match I lost definitely took a hit to my self esteem, the next loss was easier to stomach.

The next one felt even easier, and the one after that.

And while I didn’t go on to win a game that night, I did come very close, and that in itself felt like a win. I came out of that night with a piece of myself that I had lost in the process of growing up - I was constantly protecting myself from failure, from the risk of trying and potentially not succeeding.

And not only had I lost multiple times and kept trying, but I felt a sudden fire under me to keep going.

a movie night without my phone

It was Friday night and I had no plans. And with a weekend full of activities ahead, nothing called to me more than a night on the couch.

As someone who can rewatch the same shows over and over without getting sick of them, my nights often looked the same: comfort show on, phone in hand and a wandering attention span as I mindlessly scrolled.

So I decided to do something different - I locked my phone in another room and forced myself to watch a movie.

My mind protested immediately, begging for another episode of Brooklyn 99. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sat through a film from start to finish, because somewhere along the way, I’d convinced myself that they were too long, too slow paced.

That’s how attached to short form content I was.

I decided to be extra fancy and pop my own popcorn (not just open a bag) and make myself a fun beverage which I put into a wine glass to feel fancy, before settling onto the couch, ready to be bored for the next 2 hours.

But the first five minutes turned into ten. Which turned into twenty. Then thirty. Then an hour.

And before I realised it, the movie had ended.

It was exactly what I needed- funny and a little predictable, but heartfelt in a way that held my attention. I had enjoyed it, and for the first time in a while, I wasn’t reaching for my phone every few minutes.

I think in the midst of endless scrolling and rewatching the same shows, I’d forgotten what it was like to sit with something all the way through, to give it my full attention.

And that’s why it felt so refreshing - not because the movie was anything amazing, but because I was actually present throughout it.

Now is my doomscrolling cured? Not quite.

But I have come out of this with a newfound appreciation for how much time there is to actually dedicate to yourself, if you only go searching for it.

None of these things were profound or life changing. They weren’t big, cinematic moments or adrenaline filled experiences like cliff jumping or skydiving. They were small and ordinary.

But I had fun, and was able to break out of the kind of rituals that left me feeling more drained than rested.

Perhaps the point isn’t to completely overhaul your life overnight, to become someone who constantly does something exciting.

Maybe it’s about doing the things you want to do just because, about remembering that life doesn’t just have to start on the weekends.