47 Open Tabs, 1 Lost Game of Rock-Paper-Scissors, and Other Daily Survivals

If you could open my brain right now and inspect the browser history, you would probably wonder how I am still functioning in society instead of resting comfortably in a quiet padded room.

On any given day, my mental tabs look something like this:

• Tab 1: Client 1 deliverables.
• Tab 2: Client 2 deliverables.
• Tab 3: Client 3 deliverables—wait, did I send that progress report or did I just imagine sending it?
• Tab 4: What time is it? Do I need to transform into a school bus driver now to fetch my daughters?
• Tab 5: What are we eating for lunch? (I lost rock-paper-scissors with my mom today, so kitchen duty falls on me.)
• Tab 6: Doctor’s appointments.
• Tab 7: My eldest daughter’s college applications.
• Tab 8: Updating my Solo Parent paperwork at the LGU.
• Tab 9: Why does my foot still hurt from that 1-liter shampoo bottle?

And those are just the high-priority tabs. In the background, there are about thirty other micro-tabs playing random music, reminders, and daily household errands.

Being a working single mom handling multiple clients while keeping a household running means my brain is constantly running at 99% CPU capacity.

People often ask me how I manage it all without losing my mind. Honestly? It’s only by God’s grace and guidance that I’m surviving and keeping my head above water.

When the overwhelm inevitably hits, I don’t freeze. I don’t have the luxury of time to sit back and stare at a cold cup of coffee. Time is far too precious when you’re managing a million and one things.

Instead, my immediate instinct is to open a physical notebook and write.

I write, and write, and write. I dump the mental chaos onto paper until my brain feels a little less crowded.

Sometimes, after filling a few pages, I catch myself and think: “Lynette, why are you writing when you have twenty deadlines waiting for you?”

I used to kick myself for wasting precious minutes. But over time, I realized that writing isn’t a waste of time at all. It’s therapeutic. It’s the exact reason why, even in the middle of a crazy schedule, I still make space to write my essays and keep my blog alive. Putting words on paper isn’t extra work—it’s how I untangle the wires in my head so I can keep going.

And when writing isn’t enough to close the open tabs?

I hit pause and watch a K-drama.

There is something wonderfully restorative about stepping into someone else’s scripted world for an hour, letting my brain rest, and enjoying a simple storyline where I don’t have to manage anyone’s schedule or cook lunch.

We live in a culture that tells us we need to have every single tab resolved, organized, and closed by the end of the day. But that isn’t realistic for most of us.

Some tabs are going to stay open overnight. The laundry might sit there a little longer. The college forms will get done step by step. Lunch will get cooked (even if you lost the hand game to your mom).

Finding calm isn’t about clearing your browser history completely. It’s about knowing which tab needs your attention right now, letting the rest buffer in the background, and giving yourself permission to take a breath—or watch an episode of your favorite show—before you get back to work.