Lately, my brain feels like a browser with far too many tabs open, except I cannot identify which one is playing the background music and I am slightly afraid to close anything in case it turns out to be important. Nothing particularly terrible is happening, and I would not even say that I am deeply stressed. It is stranger than that. My thoughts simply feel crowded. One idea leads to another, one reminder suddenly produces three more things I need to remember, and every time I think I have finally organised everything in my head, another little responsibility walks in and quietly takes a seat.

At the moment, I seem to have entered my unofficial event-planner era without remembering when I applied for the position. There is a baby shower that needs organising, our batch anniversary that needs proper planning, Mama’s upcoming birthday—puhon—and several other things floating around somewhere in the mental waiting room. For our batch anniversary, I have already started thinking about something more memorable, perhaps an overnight stay in Italy, which sounds lovely until the practical part of my brain arrives with questions about dates, flights, accommodation, everyone’s availability and approximately seventeen other details that did not exist when Italy was simply a nice thought.

This is how my brain works when I have several plans at once. I rarely think of something as one task. “Plan the anniversary” does not remain one sentence for very long. Suddenly it becomes deciding where in Italy, checking dates, finding accommodation, asking everyone, calculating costs, figuring out who can actually come, considering travel times and wondering whether I should already be creating an itinerary for a trip that has not technically been agreed upon yet. Before I know it, I have mentally organised half the holiday while physically doing absolutely nothing.

That is probably the funniest part of my current state. I feel incredibly lazy and incredibly motivated at exactly the same time. My body seems to be requesting horizontal living, preferably somewhere comfortable with my phone nearby, while my brain is shouting that this would be the perfect moment to organise every social event between now and next year. I want to rest, but I also have this almost irresistible urge to complete the plans immediately, as though the entire future will become wonderfully peaceful if I can just get everything sorted tonight.

So now my iPhone has become headquarters.

I have started making lists because keeping everything inside my head clearly is not working anymore. There are notes, reminders, little ideas, dates I need to confirm and random thoughts that make perfect sense when I type them but may require forensic interpretation when I read them again tomorrow. I keep thinking of something and immediately reaching for my phone because I know that if I tell myself, I will remember that later, there is a very realistic chance that later-me will have absolutely no idea what earlier-me was talking about.

There is something reassuring about seeing thoughts become words on a screen. Inside my head, everything feels equally urgent. Mama’s birthday sits beside the baby shower, the anniversary trip sits beside some unrelated thing I suddenly remembered I need to buy, and all of them seem to be raising their hands at once asking to be dealt with. Once they are written down, however, they become less intimidating. A thought becomes a task. A task becomes a date. A date becomes something I can eventually deal with instead of something I need to mentally carry everywhere.

Perhaps that is what I am really craving right now: not necessarily completion, but order.

I think there is a difference between being overwhelmed because life is going badly and feeling mentally crowded because there are simply too many things I care about happening at once. Most of what is occupying my mind right now is actually good. A baby shower means someone is entering an exciting new chapter. A batch anniversary means another year has passed since we began this strange life together. Mama’s birthday is something I want to make special because birthdays have increasingly taught me to value the privilege of having people here to celebrate. Even the thought of Italy is something joyful—a chance for friends to leave ordinary routines behind for a little while and make another memory together.

Maybe that is why the mental load feels confusing. These are not problems I want to get rid of. They are things I genuinely want to do.

But wanting to do something does not automatically make organising it effortless.

Sometimes I think I underestimate how much invisible work goes into creating enjoyable moments. We see the baby shower when the decorations are already up, the cake is sitting beautifully on the table and everyone is taking photographs. We see the holiday when everybody has arrived and the scenery is behind us. We see a birthday dinner once everyone is seated. What we do not usually photograph are the evenings spent comparing dates, messaging people, checking prices, changing plans, making lists and trying to remember whether somebody already answered the question you asked three days ago.

Behind most effortless-looking occasions is somebody with approximately forty-seven tabs open.

Apparently, at the moment, that somebody is me.

There is also a part of me that wants everything decided immediately because unfinished plans occupy an unreasonable amount of mental space. Once I begin thinking about something, I want resolution. I want the date chosen, the accommodation booked, the restaurant found and the little imaginary box beside the task ticked. Leaving something half-planned feels like leaving a drawer slightly open. Technically nothing terrible is happening, but I know it is there.

Yet life does not always organise itself according to my preferred speed. People need to check rotas. Dates need confirming. Prices change. Someone needs to ask someone else. There will always be details I cannot finish tonight no matter how enthusiastically I stare at my Notes app.

Perhaps that is the part I am learning now: planning does not require completing everything in one sitting.

Sometimes organisation is simply deciding what needs to happen next.

I do not need to have the entire baby shower figured out tonight. I can start with the date. I do not need a complete Italian itinerary before everyone has even confirmed they can go. I can start with possible weekends and destinations. Mama’s birthday does not need every detail finalised simply because I have started thinking about it. Puhon. There is something comforting in that word because it holds intention without pretending we control everything. God willing, the day will come, and when it does, I hope we will have another reason to gather and celebrate.

Maybe my brain needs the same kindness I usually offer other people. I would never expect someone else to complete five different plans simultaneously while also working, resting and living an ordinary life. Yet somehow I can create that expectation for myself without even realising it. I turn ideas into obligations before they have had enough time to simply be ideas.

And sometimes an idea deserves to remain an idea for a few days.

Italy can stay inside the imagination for a little while before becoming bookings and confirmation emails. A birthday can begin as thoughts about what would make Mama happy before becoming reservations and logistics. A baby shower can first be excitement before it becomes decorations, food and schedules. There is pleasure in anticipation too, and perhaps rushing immediately towards completion means missing part of it.

I think this urge to organise everything also comes from wanting people to have a good time. When I care about something, I think about details. I imagine what everyone might enjoy, what could go wrong, what needs preparing and what would make the occasion memorable. It is a form of care, although care can become surprisingly administrative. Love sounds very beautiful until it is 1 a.m. and you are comparing hotel cancellation policies.

Still, I would rather have a life containing people and occasions worth planning for.

That thought changes the feeling slightly.

My crowded mind is not only filled with tasks. It is filled with people.

There is Mama somewhere inside those thoughts. There are friends. There is our batch and the years we have accumulated together. There is somebody preparing to welcome a baby. There are future tables I hope will be filled with food and laughter, photographs that do not exist yet and conversations none of us have had yet. What currently looks like a chaotic Notes list may eventually become memories.

Perhaps that is the strange thing about planning: you are doing practical work for moments that have not happened yet.

You book the room before hearing the laughter inside it. You reserve the table before knowing what stories will be told around it. You buy decorations before anyone stands beside them for a photograph. You plan a trip before you know which completely unplanned moment will become everybody’s favourite memory.

Maybe that is why I keep wanting to get started.

I can already imagine everyone there.

But tonight, I am also trying to remember that imagination does not need to become immediate action every single time. I can write things down and let the list hold them for me. That is what lists are for, after all. They are not evidence that everything must be completed immediately. They are somewhere for thoughts to wait so my brain does not have to keep carrying them around the house.

I am slowly learning that there is a particular relief in telling myself, It is written down. I do not need to think about it again tonight.

Whether my brain actually listens is another matter entirely.

Knowing me, I will probably be lying in bed later when some extremely important thought suddenly appears, such as whether Italy should involve Florence, Rome or somewhere completely different, and I will reach for my phone with one eye open to add another line to the list. Then that line will generate two additional thoughts, and suddenly I will have accidentally planned breakfast on Day Two of a trip whose dates nobody has confirmed.

This is apparently who I am.

But maybe I do not need to fight it completely. There is a part of me that genuinely enjoys organising things, imagining possibilities and turning vague ideas into something real. I simply need to learn when planning is productive and when my mind is using productivity to avoid resting.

Because rest matters too.

I can want to complete everything and still choose not to. I can feel lazy without immediately deciding that laziness is a character flaw. Sometimes what I call laziness is simply my body saying, We have done enough for today. There will be another morning for the spreadsheets, messages, dates and decisions.

The future does not need to be fully arranged before I am allowed to enjoy the present.

So tonight, perhaps the goal is smaller. I will create the list. I will write down the baby shower, the batch anniversary, the possible overnight trip to Italy, Mama’s birthday—puhon—and all the other things currently bouncing around my head. I will give each thought somewhere to live that is not inside my brain.

Then I will allow some of them to remain unfinished.

Maybe organisation is not having every answer. Maybe it is simply knowing that nothing important has been forgotten.

And if tomorrow I wake up suddenly convinced that I absolutely need to research Italian villas before breakfast, well, at least I will know exactly which list to add it to.

For now, my mind is still full, my plans are still incomplete and there are probably several things I have forgotten even while writing this. But underneath all the mental clutter, I realise I am fortunate to have things ahead of me that I am excited to plan and people in my life worth making plans for.

Perhaps I do not need to fathom every thought tonight.

I only need to give them somewhere to wait.

With love, Anj ♥