The Stopwatch Clicks On
Alright, folks. Got this idea stuck in my head: 10,000 seconds. Sounds wild, right? Roughly 2 hours and 46 minutes. Decided, screw it, let’s just live normally for exactly that long and jot down every darn thing I actually do. No plan, no fancy goal. Just… life. Grabbed my battered old notebook, my phone stopwatch, a big glass of water, and hit ‘start’ right there in my kitchen at 9:14 AM sharp.
The “Productive” Phase (Yeah, Right)
The first chunk? Felt like I could conquer the world. Or at least my inbox. Sat down, opened the laptop.Bang!
- Emails: Answered like 5 real ones? Spent ages deleting promotions and unsubscribing from that wine club I never ordered from.
- Dishes: Hey, standing up felt good! Washed yesterday’s plates, got distracted by a cool bird outside the window for… maybe 3 minutes? Stopwatch doesn’t judge.
- Groceries: Needed milk. Real milk. Opened Instacart, scrolled, added milk… then saw cookies. Added cookies. Saw expensive gourmet cheese. Closed Instacart. Made a mental note to just GO later. Felt… inefficient.
The Reality Sinks In Phase
Okay, the initial burst faded. The chair felt comfier.
- Scrolling Trap: Meant to look up that dishwasher error code. Ended up watching cat fails on YouTube. Then a video on fixing washing machines. Which I don’t have. Closed laptop feeling vaguely ashamed. Checked stopwatch – over 45 minutes gone. Just poof!
- Body Demands: Nature called. Grabbed another glass of water. Stood staring at the fridge magnets for a minute, thinking… nothing much. Seriously, 10k seconds includes peeing and zoning out. Important discovery.
- Social Media Ghosting: Phone buzzed. Scrolled Insta. Liked a pic of my friend’s dog. Saw a political rant. Felt annoyed. Closed app. Checked Twitter, saw more noise, closed it faster. Felt like digital junk food – unsatisfying.
The “Embrace the Mess” Phase
Realized trying to be a superhero was dumb. Leaned into the drift.
- Cat Interrupt: My furry idiot demanded pets. Loudly. Spent a good 15 minutes just scratching his ears while he purred like a maniac. Not “productive,” but felt pretty damn good. Better than emails.
- Mini Walk: Legs were stiff. Walked around the block. No headphones. Just listened to the neighbourhood sounds – kids yelling, a lawnmower somewhere. Took about 12 minutes. Didn’t solve any problems, just felt the air.
- Coffee & Staring: Made a fresh cup. Sat at the kitchen table. Just sipped it. Thought about nothing and everything. That dishwasher error code popped back in. Googled it properly this time (5 min max). Felt like a tiny win.
The Final Countdown & Tally
Heard the phone timer alarm blare. 10,000 seconds done. Felt… weirdly anticlimactic and super eye-opening.
Sat down with my scribbled notebook. Looked at the absolute chaos of entries:
- A few small tasks mostly started, rarely finished perfectly.
- Plenty of distractions and dead ends (looking at you, Instacart cheese).
- Mindless scrolling – a depressingly significant chunk.
- Essential bodily functions – can’t skip those!
- Unplanned moments of actual presence (petting the cat, that walk) felt the best.
What did I really get done? Honestly? Not a huge tangible project. No novel written. No room completely cleaned. But I lived 2 hours and 46 minutes. Some bits felt wasted, some felt necessary maintenance, some felt genuinely peaceful.
The main takeaway? 10,000 seconds is both longer and shorter than you think. You can spin your wheels hard on nonsense, or catch moments of simple being. It’s mostly messy, human stuff. Planning to conquer it all is a recipe for feeling like a failure. Maybe just noticing it is enough. Though next time, I might hide my phone.
