🔥 Life, but Louder – Caffeinated Chaos

I Was Just Washing One Dish…

Why can I go to bed at 1:30 a.m. on a work night and have to force myself out of bed at 8:45, but if I go to bed at 3 a.m. on a Friday night, my eyes pop open at 8 a.m. on Saturday like “Let’s go!” Apparently my body revolts against business hours.

I actually enjoy waking up early. There’s something about the quiet time as the world is also waking up around me. Don’t mistake that for me being a “morning person” because I am anything but. Seriously, don’t even speak to me until I’ve had a smoke and that first sip of coffee. Well, unless you’re cute and it comes with an, “I’ll start the coffee,” and a kiss 😘

It’s those early weekend hours when I say to myself, “Ooo, I have time to get so much done!” Then before I know it, I’m two coffees, half a pack of smokes, and three rabbit holes deep at noon and I’ve done absolutely nothing.

Is that ADHD? Because it sure feels like ADHD. Especially after I’ve done nothing all day then at 9 p.m. I wander into the kitchen, rinse out one dish, and suddenly I’m rearranging the cupboards or baking scones from scratch like I’m auditioning for HGTV or Food Network.

And, yes, I’ll stay there until it’s done, even if that means I’m only getting three hours of sleep. Or, the other route… I start, get overwhelmed by something as simple as there being an orphaned storage container lid, throw my hands up, and declare I’m done. Then I feel like it’s side-eyeing me for the next three weeks saying, “see, you never finish anything.”

If you know, you know.

That’s why when I meet someone who’s like me, who gets locked in where you can’t afford to look away for even a second or you’ll never get back into it, I get it. I don’t mind if they don’t text me right back or say they’re going to be late for plans. Even if my old abandonment and, “not good enough,” fears try to kick in (how rude of them 🙄), I can shove them aside long enough to respect the zone.

Part of me wants to get diagnosed to stop the noise (which, good luck, because apparently adult diagnosis is harder than landing a job on Wall Street), but part of me doesn’t want to lose the chaos. The chaos is when I’m the most alive and I’m not sure I’d even know who I was without it. I love me even if I make myself crazy.

Besides, if I become “normal,” who’s going to randomly organize the spice rack then make cinnamon sugar donuts at 2 a.m.?

Don’t Get Stuck in the Quiet

I love my alone time. There’s something empowering about being able to sit with yourself, breathe, and just… be. But I’ve learned that the quiet is supposed to help you heal and recharge, not become a place where you hide from life.

James Clear said, “If someone declared, ‘Tomorrow you must spend the day alone,’ the hope is that you would reply, ‘That sounds like a good day!’” And he’s right. But if you spend too much time in that quiet space, you risk getting stuck there.

The quiet is where I reset and figure out life. But at some point, you have to step back into the world and live it.

Where I Find Peace When the World Feels Loud

There’s a rare kind of magic in the quiet moments. The world never really stops moving, but sometimes there is calm within the chaos.

For me, it’s late at night when the air is still, the stars are bright, and no one’s around to fill the silence with small talk or distractions. Simply me, the breeze, and the moonlight. It’s as if the world disappears into the shadows, and I can finally breathe again.

I find it in the hum of airports, too. When I’m traveling solo, there’s this odd freedom in being surrounded by people yet answering to no one. Like I’m in my own bubble, quietly observing the stories unfolding around me while no one notices mine.Road trips carry a calm of their own. Just me, my car, and the open road. The sounds of nothing except my tires on pavement, music pumping through the speakers, and the voice inside my head can be both liberating and haunting. Then there are the road trips with the one you love, when the journey itself feels like an adventure waiting to unfold.There are memories, too. Sitting by the water as a teenager, watching the lake shift colors under the night sky. Walking beside someone who felt like home, especially when the destination didn’t matter.And then there’s the library, with the warm, papery smell of books in the air, knowledge and history at your fingertips. A soft corner where you can forget the world and lose yourself in whatever story you choose.Peace doesn’t always show up waving a white flag. Sometimes, it’s just hiding in plain sight, waiting to be found.