The Unexpected

Shelving overwhelm when you could *really* do without it

My laptop is on fire. Not literally - though I don’t know how this is possible because its whole being feels hotter than the core of the sun - and not metaphorically, because I am currently struggling to write anything very rapidly at all given the glacial pace at which this clunk of a machine is functioning, but somewhere in the middle: it is very, very hot and very very loud. Constantly. Even when switched off and laid gently on a hard, flat surface. And in my experience (RIP Laptops I, II, III, IV and V) I know that neither of these attributes bode Good Things. They bode - half-hourly appearances from the Spinning Rainbow Wheel of Death being my third clue - The Beginning Of The End. (‘You are so far past The Beginning Of The End, I fear you are closer to The Very End of the End,’ my boyfriend tells me.)

But I am too busy to explore getting a new one right now and, more pertinently, we are mid-way through a house renovation entering its - weep - fourth year, and therefore have minimal spare change down the back of the increasingly dusty sofa with which to obtain one. We are finally beginning work on the solitary bathroom next month after three years of living with a half-demolished, half-functioning one only very rudimentarily plumbed in and with so many expansive holes in the floorboards I am genuinely surprised our toddler hasn’t plummeted straight through one, so I cannot dip into the pot for a new MacBook right now (particularly with HMRC having just helped themselves to most of said pot) lest it spanner these extremely crucial waterworks. So on I plod, grinding my way through a huge writing project on which I am currently working, burning my fingers on the scorching keys, and praying to the big Apple gods in the sky that the little silver bastard on my lap doesn’t explode in my arms within the next four months.

Photo does not convey: horrible sound of laptop dying drowning out pleasant sound of cat purring

I have not got a good relationship with technology or with machinery - my car still bears the scars (read: cavernous dent) of the time I reversed round (read: directly into) a hospital car park pillar when I was nine months pregnant and perilously low on spatial awareness back in the autumn of 2023 - so the laptop is my ultimate nemesis. I also have a tendency to get VERY suddenly and VERY profoundly VERY OVERWHELMED by things (mainly tech, often machinery) glitching or breaking or needing any sort of medical attention, because I am totally allergic to admin, particularly admin of the sudden and unexpected variety, and so the laptop crumbling to dust has the potential to send me into total tailspin in the very near future.

The overwhelm I feel when things unexpectedly go wrong comes, I think, from a) a curious belief that it surely spells the end of the world as I know it, and b) the general sense of panic I feel when I have too much on my plate and almost certainly not enough time in which to do it all, even when it’s just a lot of fairly rudimentary things. It is why I cannot sit down to write until the house is tidy and the laundry is done, and why I suddenly decide it is imperative I spend the day cleaning up the frozen garden in late January when my tax return still hasn’t been filed; I cannot fully concentrate on the big things while littler things flitter about in the background. And unexpected things are total bloody litter. My mother, who believes everyone in our family and quite possibly everyone in the world has ADHD, would cite this as proof, and perhaps she’s right. Or perhaps it’s just anxiety plus procrastination. (Perhaps, my mother would say, ADHD is a heady mix of anxiety plus procrastination.)

Either way, I have been thinking a lot about The Unexpected recently, and my historic inability to handle it, as a bunch of unexpected, unwelcome situations have cropped up of late that I have had to handle while also getting on with the business of working and parenting and living and eating and sleeping and generally focusing and not imploding. I have not liked it, but I have managed; I am getting better at not letting overwhelm completely cripple me, and I think there are a few reasons for this that I wanted to share in case anyone else is feeling similar and would like some proactive tips that have helped me shelve at least a modicum of the panic:

1. Write A List

Not a to do list, per se, although one of these obviously helps, but a list of all your current worries and grievances and panics. Writing them down helps you see clearly that there probably aren’t as many as you think, that some of them are completely out of your control, that all of them will be resolved eventually.

2. Read More, Watch Less

One of my big goals this year is to watch less TV and get back into books. I adore books, and when I find a good one I inhale it voraciously, but I am also, as my boyfriend says, a total trashbat who loves television, can root out crap like a truffle pig and then absorb it, agog, for hours (days, weeks, months) on end without coming up for air. The trick, for me, is to start a new book the second I finish one, to write a list of everything I’ve finished reading to cheer myself on, and to have an audiobook on the go simultaneously for car journeys and long walks. Embedding myself in words makes my mind feel sharper and helps me find the ones I need to untangle my own dilemmas. I’m currently rereading The Secret History by Donna Tartt and listening to The Past by Tessa Hadley, both of which are successfully restraining me from watching the entire back catalogue of the American, Australian and Irish versions of The Traitors, simultaneously.

3. Delete Instagram

I wrote about this last week, and am sticking firmly to it, with only very occasional uploads to post about my sourdough classes and have a minute-long flick before deleting it again. The peace! The absence of chaos! The time I’ve recouped! The renewed optimism! It has been nothing short of transformative.

4. Get The Bigger Picture

Since deleting(ish) Instagram, whenever muscle memory makes pick up my phone for a scroll I am redirected instead to The Guardian or The New Yorker. While global news this year has been nothing short of fucking harrowing, reading a select amount from selected sources has given me a sense of expansiveness that has made my problems feel infinitely more manageable. Not so much in the sense of ‘others have it worse’, but in the sense of ‘look how big the world is, a roasting hot laptop should not be the biggest thing in yours’.

5. Stroke A Pet

On Monday it will be two years since my furry little familiar Olive died, and although our new kitten Owl has not yet fully cemented herself in our hearts - we’ve only known the feral little fur-ball eight weeks and we all look like we’ve been exuberantly self-harming throughout - when she finally does sit calmly on my chest and purrs, eyes closed, claws for once tucked away, I almost feel a physical weight lift.

6. Stop Procrastinating

I did my tax return during an extremely generous four-hour toddler nap yesterday (having successfully put it off for exactly 10 months) with 48 hours to spare, and although I was dreading the doing of it (admin, yeugh), the dread I felt for 10 solid months was infinitely worse than the actual four hours of spreadsheeting.

7. Make Bread

Always meditative, always nurturing, always calming, always rewarding, always delicious.

8. Stop Drinking

Sporadic periods of sobriety have always helped me focus more, sleep better, wake earlier, be calmer and generally have more energy for the tasks, even the unexpected ones. This year I intend to do not just Dry January but Dryish 2026, and so far my general levels of panic and overwhelm in the face of some very tricky situations have been lower than they possibly might have otherwise been.

9. Classical Music

Ever since I heard Richard Osman say he only listens to wordless classical music while writing novels I have switched off Fip Radio (it’s French, it’s fabulous, go listen) and turned on a voiceless, violin-heavy playlist. My word count has risen at precisely the same rate at which my time spent humming has diminished.

10. Get Wet

Ideally by plunging yourself into the icy depths of the sea or a freezing barrel of water following a sauna on Margate beach during the middle of winter. Shout out Sea Scrubs Sauna, keeping Thanet’s mental health bobbing merrily along the surface.

11. Speak With Friends

My god, the importance of good friends cannot be overstated. Cherish them, go out of your way to find new ones if you don’t feel nourished by yours, speak to them IRL and on the phone, WhatsApp is never, ever enough.

12. Hug A Baby

With thanks to friends who keep churning out these squishy little nuggets - most generous. Perhaps this is the generation to save the world. They smell like they might just be.

13. Chat To A Toddler

The cure for most things, I find. These funny little creatures bubble over with joy and excitement and hope and optimism and wit and laughter and silliness. Oh, to bottle this essence and keep it with me (and with her) always!

14. Save Up For A New Laptop

Because, honestly, the constant grinding whirr of that blessed fan is enough to send anyone straight back over the bloody edge, even after a freezing cold dip in the ocean.