Episode 82 - Nothing but Buying Time

Mike runs his mouth about how much of our day is spent buying time—scrolling, sitting in your car, standing in the shower replaying conversations, and pretending to be productive just to avoid what’s actually sitting over your head.

He gets into fake productivity, mental exhaustion, losing momentum, and how you can know exactly what would help and still not do it—realizing it might not be laziness, just a lack of clarity.

From shower comebacks to opening the fridge like it’s gonna fix your life to surviving a normal work week, it all comes back to the same thing: you’re not stuck—you might just be stalling because you don’t have the answer yet.

If you would like to share your opinion, send an email to lnbemedia@gmail.com and don't forget to follow me on Instagram and TikTok @thelnbepodcast.

Transcript

Tiny Escapes And Tension

Mike 0:09

Aight fam. Do you ever notice how much of your day is just small escapes? Just little moments where you're not really doing anything, you're just buying time. You ever catch yourself doing that? You open up your phone, not to check anything specific, you just open it, you scroll a little, and then you just close it, and then 30 seconds later, you're right back at it again just to see the same video you closed out of because you didn't give the app enough time to refresh. Like, what the hell am I even checking for? Did my life change in the last 30 seconds? No. Still the same problems? Sick. Or you sit in your car before you go inside somewhere, and you just sit there for a minute, like you're mentally preparing for something. I gotta give myself a little pep talk just to walk into the front door at work. Oh, these past few weeks have been a rough one. You're just sitting there, just like, today's the day I'm not gonna crash out. Today's the day where I'm just gonna let something roll off my back. I'm not gonna react. I'm just gonna stay level. I'm gonna breathe in for four seconds. And exhale for six. But then the more things that you just let roll off your back, the tighter your jaw clenches. I swear, the next time I go for a cleaning, my dentist is gonna look at me and just go, Do you grind your teeth at night? No, I just work a standard 40-hour work week. And it's funny too, because I used to bartend, right? And I used to think people at bars are idiots. Like the stuff you'd hear, the decisions people make, the conversations. You're like, there's no way these people function in real life. And then I started working a normal job, and I realized oh, these people don't disappear, they just clock in, they leave the bar, get a little sleep, throw on a collared shirt, and now they're in meetings, sending emails, making decisions, and I'm sitting there like, oh, these idiots gotta work somewhere, and that's when it really hits you. Like it's not even about one place or one job. People are just people, which is almost worse because now there's no escape. It's not like, oh, once I leave here, I'll be different. No, it's the same personalities, just in different outfits. The bar version of them is just more honest, the office version is filtered, and somehow that makes it more exhausting because now you're not just dealing with the behavior, you're dealing with the version of it that's trying to pretend it's professional. And that's the part that gets me. Because you don't even deal with it in the moment, you just hold it, like you leave work, leave that conversation, leave whatever annoyed you, and you don't actually process it, you just carry it into the rest of your day. Like, all right, cool, let me just bottle this up real quick. We'll circle back to it never. And that's why those little escape moments hit so hard, because it's the only time your brain actually gets a second to catch up, and that's when it all starts coming out, not when it happens, but later, like in the shower. That's a great place to rehash an argument or a conversation that you had. You ever just stand there longer than you need to? Like you're already done, but you're just not getting out yet. You're just letting the water run because it allows you to just feel something. Because once you step out, you gotta deal with everything again. And yet somehow that's where your brain decides to just lock in. Like now you're thinking about everything work, life, random stuff from like three days ago, and you start replaying conversations. Like, why did I say that? Or even worse, you think of the perfect thing you should have said, like the elite comeback, the one that should have landed, the one that could have changed everything, and you're just standing there like, oh, that would have gone crazy, but now it's 45 minutes later, and you're just alone in the shower. But in the moment, you went blank, you froze, or if you didn't freeze, you said something dumb, or you just let it go. Is there anything worse than the shower comeback? Like you're already in there winning arguments that already ended, wet, naked, and somehow less vulnerable than you were in the actual conversation. None of that is random. That's just you buying time. And when you actually think about it, your whole day is kind of built around those moments: bathroom breaks, random scrolling, standing in your kitchen doing nothing, going to the fridge, opening it, going back into the living room, 30 seconds later, going back into the fridge, opening it. Nothing's changed. It's not like the answers to life are right behind the orange juice. You're not even hungry. You're hoping something in there speaks to you. Like, what am I even looking for? Yogurt in a new direction, and then you close it, walk away, come back like four minutes later, do the exact same thing. Like maybe this time the fridge got its shit together, and the shit is you. You're not in there looking for a snack, you're looking for a pause. Just a little break between what you should be doing and what you feel like dealing with. And I think we do that more than we realize. Not even with just our phones, but with tiny fake tasks. You start cleaning something random, answering one text you don't care about, checking your email again, rearranging something on your desk. Like, bro, I'm not reorganizing, I'm hiding with purpose. That's what it really is. You're not being lazy in some dramatic way, you're being fake productive. So you don't have to face the bigger thing sitting over your head. And the bigger thing could be anything: a decision, a conversation, your job, your future, even yourself. Sometimes you're not tired because you did a lot, you're tired because something is sitting on you mentally all day. Even when you're doing normal stuff, it's still there in the background, just humming. And the weird part is when you get that overwhelmed, you don't even get emotional about it sometimes. You don't cry, you don't freak out, you just start laughing. You ever do that? Like something small happens, something that shouldn't even be funny, and you're just sitting there like, Why am I laughing right now? And it's not even real laughter, it's like your brain just hits a reset button and goes, Yeah, we're not dealing with this right now. Like, nah. Best I can do is a chuckle. We'll circle back to that later. Like you're stressed out thinking about everything you've got going on, and then something dumb pops into your head, and you just start laughing like an idiot. Not because it's funny, but because it's the only thing that's giving you a break. That's not humor, that's survival. And that kind of laughter is different too. It's not joy, it's your brain accidentally stepping on a rake and making itself laugh so it doesn't panic. You ever have one of those days where nothing is catastrophically wrong, but like 11 small things happen, and by the end of the day, you feel like you're one inconvenience away from just fucking losing it? Like I'm not asking for a lot, I just don't want to crash out because this fucking meeting could have just been an email. And that's when the dumbest thing becomes hilarious. Not because it's funny, but because if you don't laugh, you might actually just snap. And honestly, I think a lot of us are better at disguising overwhelm than dealing with it. We still go to work, still answer texts, still do everything that we're supposed to, but internally, you're held together by routine, sarcasm, and one decent conversation every few days. And maybe that's why those tiny escapes feel so good, because they're small enough that nobody questions them. Nobody questions a long shower, nobody questions sitting in your car, nobody questions you staring into your fridge like you're gonna solve the world's problems, but really you're just trying to come back to yourself for a second. And I think that's what's been messing with me lately is when you live like that for so long, everything starts to feel temporary, even your effort. Like you stop fully committing to things because part of you is already bracing for disappointment. So now you half try things, half believe in things, half show up, not because you don't care, but because caring fully feels risky when you're already drained. Like, let me not get too hopeful here, wouldn't want to ruin my brand, and that's a weird place to live. Because then you tell yourself you're being realistic when really you might just be protecting yourself. Because how much of your life is patience, and how much of it is fear, those are not the same thing, and then before you know it, days pass, weeks pass, and you don't feel like you move forward at all. Not because you did nothing, but because everything you did was kind of meant to avoid the real thing. And I don't know if you felt this too, but even the things that used to help don't really feel like they do anymore. Like working out. That used to be my reset, and now it's like I know it would help, I know I'd feel better, but I can't even bring myself to do it, and then I'll just sit there, like, oh, I'll go tomorrow. Like, tomorrow isn't gonna be the exact same version of today, and then you're just like, fuck it, we'll be on the Monday diet. I'll just start it up again on Monday, and then the following Monday comes, I'll start it up on Monday. It's not even laziness, it's like you're already drained before you even start. And what makes it worse is you know what it feels like when you're consistent. You've had those stretches where things are clicking and you're in rhythm, and then you fall off for a bit. Life gets busy, things get stressful, you miss a few days, and now it's like, damn, now I gotta work just to get back to where I already was. Bruh, I already unlocked this level. Why am I grinding it again? I'm not replaying the video game. And I don't even know if you've ever caught yourself doing this, but even with faith, I've realized that I've asked for outcomes more than guidance. Like, God, just give me something better, give me something that fits, put me where I'm supposed to be. And on the surface, none of that is bad. But if I'm being honest, sometimes what I'm really asking is you can fix this without me having to change first. Like, let's be real. I'm not praying for growth, I'm praying for convenience. Because I'll say I want clarity, but what I really mean is I just want some relief. But maybe that period of not knowing is the work. Maybe that's the part that changes you. Because it's easy to trust when everything makes sense, it's harder when nothing feels settled and you still have to show up anyways. Because deep down, most of us already know a few things that we should be doing. We just don't want to do them without a guarantee. And I think that's why all those little escapes happen. Because when you don't have clarity, when things feel off, when you don't know what you're working toward, you don't sit in it, you don't try to get out of it, so you scroll, you stall, you laugh at nothing, and you avoid things. You buy time, not because you're lazy, but because you're overwhelmed and you just don't have the answer yet. And maybe that's not laziness, maybe that's just what overwhelm looks like when it's quiet. So yeah, maybe you're not wasting time, maybe you're not falling behind, maybe you're just trying to get through it the best way you know how until things start to make sense again. And I'm literally sitting here saying all of this, and I know I'm gonna catch myself doing the same shit tomorrow. So, yeah, I don't think we're lazy, I just think we don't have clarity yet, so we find ways to escape instead. I appreciate you guys listening, and I'll catch you on the next one.