Welcome to what I like to call a “lazy day.” At the moment, I’m fishing in the Ash Heap in Fallout—semi-relaxing while conveniently ignoring a few things I should probably be doing. When I logged in this morning, I realized I hadn’t touched this week’s fishing challenge, so here I am catching up for those mini-season points. This despite already having cleared out the board for the season’s rewards.

Really, it all feels like what Chris Knight (Val Kilmer’s character in Real Genius) once said: “It’s part of a continued effort to avoid responsibility.” If you’ve never seen that movie, do yourself a favor—it’s a gem of ‘80s absurdity and definitely worth watching.

The Art of Avoidance
I’ve noticed—well, pretty much always—that I can find a diversion from my to-do list, whether I actually need one or not. Stroke recovery didn’t help much with that. I used to multitask like a champ; now, my brain is strictly one-track. It doesn’t take much for me to lose focus, and when I do, hours vanish. Case in point: by the time I got distracted while writing this, it was two hours later before I returned.

That cycle gets frustrating. I’ll set out with the best of intentions, only to derail myself and get angry because things don’t get done. A perfect example: back in June 2023, I told myself I needed to put the craft and sewing room back together. For nearly two years, I repeated that same resolution like a broken record. Every time, I walked back into the same mess. Is it because my brain doesn’t register it as a priority? Or because it really isn’t? I don’t know. All I know is it’s maddening.

Deadlines and Conditioning
Part of me thinks this problem comes from a lifetime of conditioning. In the workplace, everything revolves around deadlines and productivity quotas. After years of that grind, you internalize it—even after you’re retired or disabled. You start to believe that if you’re not constantly meeting goals, you’re somehow failing.

But here’s the truth: the house won’t collapse because I didn’t vacuum the bedroom today. Existence itself isn’t going to shatter because I didn’t tick every box off my list. Missing a deadline doesn’t make me a bad person. It just makes me human.

Redefining Productivity
I struggle with stamina for basic tasks, so it’s far too easy to put things off until “tomorrow.” Sometimes that’s a genuine lack of energy; sometimes it’s just a decision to let myself breathe. I’ve had to lean heavily on reminders and phone alerts. My calendar looks like a toddler scribbled on it with pop-up notifications for the most mundane things.

What used to be a 30-minute reminder before an appointment is now 45, because I need more time to get ready. That’s a hard pill to swallow—believing I can still do everything I once did, but realizing I can’t. Lists have become my new lifeline.

I laugh a little imagining “old what’s-his-name” (my late husband) smugly reminding me how I should always keep lists. He’d be pleased to know he was right.

Learning Curve and Kindness
If I’d known before my stroke what living with these limitations would really feel like, I think I’d have been a better nurse. I walked patients through recovery protocols but never had a real sense of the day-to-day frustrations of being on the other side.

Still, I’ve had kindness and support around me. My dog (currently asleep next to me) reminds me daily what unconditional support looks like. And if my mom were still here, she’d be the same. That’s a reminder to myself: when in doubt, be the person who offers kindness first.

Productivity, after all, isn’t about how many boxes you check off in a day. It’s about living in a way that feels right for you—even if that means scratching “vacuum bedroom” off the list in favor of “go fishing in Fallout.”