Life Hack

Get 'er done.
Zach Hively

I suspect we all struggle to Get Things Done. I know I do.

Thank goodness.

As a person with no external guiding structure in place, such as a trained manager or surveillance cameras, I also benefit from little to no internal motivation to Get Things Done, at least until they are due or a person (besides myself) is coming over. And that doesn’t happen every season.

I love things getting done. I just would, by and large, like other people to do them. This isn’t feasible for me—leastwise, not in this economy, and not with my chosen professions.

This means I end up every now and again creating to-do lists with sub-lists of ways to revamp my approach to life. However, doing so mighty quickly starts to feel like adding More Things to Get Done, Without Adding More People To Do Them.

So. Instead. I try a new brain hack.

There is ALWAYS a new brain hack I haven’t tried hacking yet. And let me tell you, I will do ANYTHING to bust out of the rut of my to-do lists, so long as I don’t have to do anything.

My hacks have included: Turning to-do lists into “want to do” lists. Adding check-off boxes to transform to-do lists into dopamine-hit-lists. Reward systems. Penal systems. Mild electroshock reinforcement. Tomato timers. Egg timers. Alarms. Gamifying things. Ungamifying things. Using Sharpies to make lists instead of boring old ballpoint pens.

Still. My things don’t Get Done. Even things I want to Get Done, up to and including being willing to Do Them Myself. They just devolve back into typical, ineffective, food-stained, pen-written to-do lists.

This constant regression wears on a man. I don’t know which man, but I’m sure it wears on him. Better him than me! When my things don’t Get Done, I don’t fret—and this is my life hack for you, dear readers:
I block these things from my version of reality, which is always accurate, and I go to the pool with my friends.
This is so much better for my health and wellbeing, and frankly for my bank account, than the usual American way of getting further and further behind on one or another of my unresolved lists.

At the pool, I let go of all lingering sense of responsibility and obligation, and for two or three or seven hours I hang with a handful of the people on this planet who don’t mind being seen with me. I eat their snacks, and in exchange they cover my admission fee. I tell them what’s happening in my life, then they go jump in the pool near where all the loudest kids are.
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This kind of quality time cannot be reduced to a checklist of duties. It’s what keeps us afloat when the world drags us down and we realize we don’t actually know how to swim, and there’s no lifeguard at this pool anyway, and boy my friends can sure hold their breath for a long time.
And you know what? That night, I slept great, thanks to not worrying about a damn thing. The next morning, I got up feeling rejuvenated and sun-kissed and ready to hack this piece into existence entire hours ahead of deadline, for once. This is the power of abandoning to-do lists for these more important moments.

My editor will vouch for me when I say, “Sorry that didn’t work out as planned.”

Zach’s Substack is free. The free stuff today will remain free tomorrow. Someday, he might offer additional stuff. Zach+, as it were. You can tell Zach that you value his work by pledging a future paid subscription to additional stuff. You won't be charged unless he enables payments, and he’ll give a heads-up beforehand.