Man, 2017, what a year that was for work. I remember starting that year feeling like I needed to get my shit together, big time. My job felt like it was just eating me alive, pulling me in a million different directions, and I was just trying to keep my head above water. Every single day, I woke up with this knot in my stomach, wondering what fresh hell the inbox had waiting for me. I was deep into this project that just seemed to snowball, and by January, it was already a monster.
I distinctly remember thinking, “Okay, this isn’t sustainable.” My days were just a blur. I’d roll out of bed, usually too late because I’d stayed up stewing about work, grab some coffee, and just dive straight into emails. There was no gentle start. It was always a full-on sprint from minute one. I’d open up my laptop, see the endless list of unread messages, and just sigh. My desk was always a mess, even though I tried to keep it clean, because new papers and notes just piled up faster than I could sort them.
My main gig back then was in project coordination, which sounds pretty straightforward, right? But it wasn’t. It meant I was the go-between for like, five different teams, all of them with their own demands and deadlines. I was constantly pulling data, trying to make sense of conflicting reports, and then trying to translate all that mess into something coherent for the boss. Every morning kicked off with me sifting through what came in overnight. I would open my task list, and instead of feeling organized, I just felt a wave of dread. I’d scan for urgent stuff, the “fire drills” as we called them, and usually, there were a few, just waiting to derail my perfectly laid out plans.
The whole thing felt like I was constantly trying to plug holes in a leaky boat. I’d spend hours in meetings, trying to get everyone on the same page, but as soon as I walked out, someone would inevitably send an email contradicting what we just agreed on. I’d sit back at my desk, head in my hands, wondering why it was so hard to get things to stick. I tried to be super methodical, you know? I’d make these detailed to-do lists, color-code everything, even got myself a fancy planner. I’d write down every single thing I needed to do:
- Follow up with Marketing on the Q1 report.
- Check in with Engineering about the bug fix ETA.
- Prepare the weekly summary for the big boss.
- Schedule the team sync for next Tuesday.
- And like, a million small things in between.
I really pushed myself to keep all those balls in the air. I’d make mental notes during calls, scribbling away furiously in my notepad, trying to catch every detail. I was so focused on not missing anything, on doing everything perfectly, that I ended up just stressing myself out completely. I remember one particular week in March when everything just blew up. Two different teams had conflicting priorities for the same resource, and I was stuck in the middle. I tried to mediate, suggested compromises, even stayed late a few nights trying to rework the schedule myself. It was a nightmare. I just wanted everything to be orderly, to follow a plan, but people kept throwing wrenches into the works.
I started noticing that I was just exhausted all the time. My brain felt fried by lunchtime. I even started bringing my lunch from home because going out felt like too much effort, too much time away from my desk. I’d eat while I worked, just trying to power through. I kept telling myself, “Just get through this project, then things will calm down.” But they never did. As soon as one major milestone was hit, another one popped up, bigger and more complex.
Around summer, I really had to step back. I was getting snappy with my colleagues, losing sleep, and just generally being a mess. My partner pointed out how much I was bringing work home, not just physically, but mentally. That’s when I started to change things up a bit. It wasn’t some grand career move, just small, daily adjustments.
Changing My Daily Grind
First off, I just stopped checking emails the second I woke up. I forced myself to get ready, have breakfast, maybe even read a little bit of a real book before opening my laptop. It was hard, really hard, but it made a difference. It gave me a bit of breathing room before the chaos started.
Then, I made a point of blocking out “focus time” on my calendar. No meetings, no interruptions. Just solid chunks of time to tackle my most important tasks without constantly getting pulled away. I actually told people, “Hey, I’m unavailable during these times unless the building’s on fire.” Surprisingly, most people respected it.
I also started to be a lot more aggressive about delegating and pushing back. Before, I’d just take on everything. Now, if someone asked me to do something that wasn’t strictly my responsibility or that I felt was redundant, I started asking, “Why me? Who else can handle this?” or “Can we reprioritize?” It felt uncomfortable at first, like I was being difficult, but it really helped clear some of the clutter off my plate.
I even tried to build in little breaks. I’d walk away from my desk for ten minutes every hour, just to stretch or grab a glass of water. It sounds dumb, but those little resets actually helped me clear my head. By the end of 2017, things still weren’t perfect, not by a long shot. But I wasn’t that stressed-out wreck I was in January. I had started to figure out how to manage the monster, instead of letting it manage me. It taught me that sometimes, you just gotta adjust your own approach, even when everything else around you is still a whirlwind.
