The Afternoon Slump Decision

It was one of those afternoons where the clock seemed to be moving through syrup. My brain felt fuzzy, and the list of things I could do just sat there, heavy and unmoving. The silence in my own head was the loudest thing in the room.

That awkward pause before picking

I’d stare at the screen, then out the window, then back at the screen. The debate wasn't about what was most important. It was about what felt possible, what wouldn't make the fog in my head worse.Choosing felt like a chore in itself. I’d almost convince myself to tackle the big report, then immediately feel a wave of resistance. The easier, smaller tasks felt like cheating, but the big one felt like a mountain.

Letting the wheel decide for me

So I started writing them all down—the big, the small, the mundane. Just getting them out of my head and onto a list was a relief. It wasn't a to-do list; it was a menu of potential states of being for the next hour.I made a little spinner on a website. The act of spinning it introduced a tiny bit of randomness, a break in my own circular thinking. The outcome mattered less than the fact that the decision was now made, and I hadn't agonized over it.It felt fair, in a silly way. Like I’d given each version of my tired afternoon an equal shot. The relief wasn't in getting the "best" task, but in being released from the burden of choosing.

The quiet relief of a closed door

Once the wheel landed on something, the mental door on the other options shut. That was the real win. The awkward silence was replaced by a single, clear direction, even if it was just for a little while.