marie

Meals That Work When Your Brain Won’t

June 3, 2025 by marie Leave a Comment

Sometimes even ordering pizza sounds like work.

Some days, survival is an achievement. Forget gourmet – there are days when even ordering pizza feels like an Olympic sport. If you’re living through chaos, overwhelm, loss, burnout, or just ordinary life (because, honestly, life’s chaotic without any extras), this is for you.

Ordering takeout sounds easy in theory, but then you remember:

You have to find your wallet.
You might have to talk to someone.
Pants. Gross.

And on those days, cooking from scratch sounds about as appealing as bathing a cat.

But whether it’s delivery pizza, Chinese, or your sacred, greasy fish and chips, takeout adds up fast—financially and physically. You know that. I know that. This isn’t a post about why you should cook. You already know home-cooked is better.

This is a post for the days when the people just need fed and your brain is somewhere in a blanket fort yelling, “I live here now.”

Prepping on the Bright Days

Because Future You deserves a hug. Or at least a casserole.

But here’s the trap.

You feel amazing. Motivated. Productive! So … you roast a turkey. Heck, maybe you throw a ham in the oven while you’re at it.

Look at you go. So much meat. So many meals. You’re unstoppable.

Until you are.

Because now you have to let that meat cool, debone it, pack it up, maybe boil the bones for broth (which has it’s own steps). But you’re no longer unstoppable. In fact, your brain’s screaming “lol nope” and your body has filed a formal complaint with HR.

So you shove the whole roaster into the fridge and promise that Future You will totally deal with it.

Tomorrow.

Spoiler: You used up tomorrow’s spoons today. And now that glorious turkey might as well go straight to the compost heap, because no one’s eating it unless it’s sliced and prepped, and you are NOT up to that nonsense right now.

So there are two really good options.

Option one: Do less.

Yes, I said it. Do less. Roast one chicken. Just one. Make it your goal to get it cooked, cooled, deboned, and get those bones into the freezer.

Don’t even think about making broth unless you’re riding an ADHD hyperfocus wave and have nothing better to do. (Even then, I don’t recommend it – the freezer’s your friend)

This is not the time to turn into some Victorian kitchen martyr.

Option two: Drag a friend into the chaos.

This one’s my favorite.

Liv comes over with her grocery bags and whatever she’s contributing to our mutual “let’s not starve later” session. We cook, we bag, we label (if we remember), we chat, and we caffeinate like our lives depend on it – which, tbh, they kind of do. By the end, we both have stocked freezers and we haven’t burned out because we split the workload. It’s like productive socializing with bonus food.

Batch Cooking: Soup Is Love in a Pot

You don’t have to be a gourmet. You don’t even have to be fully awake. Make a big ol’ pot of soup, stew, chili, spaghetti sauce—whatever you can dump in a pot and ignore for a few hours. It won’t win awards, but it’ll reheat like a dream. Corn chowder is a win around here. Baked beans and wieners, if your family eats them. And when everything sucks? That leftover spaghetti becomes the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Freezer Stash: Lazy Genius Mode

Freeze. The. Things.

Casseroles, pasta bakes, rice-and-beans, even just cooked meat you can zap and throw on something vaguely edible.

Pro tip: you can thaw things properly in the fridge. Will you? Debatable.

Add an hour to the cooking time and accept your fate.

Also, let’s not pretend I always remember to take things out of the freezer on time.

Snack Hacks: Weaponized Laziness

My children are living proof that if food is visible and easy, it will vanish.

Apples hidden in the crisper? Rotting sacrifices to the fruit gods.

Apples on the coffee table? Gone.

Same goes for sliced meat, mini sausages, boiled eggs – if it’s prepped and grabby, it gets eaten. It’s like magic. Lazy, chaotic magic.

It’s cheaper to cut up your own veggies for this stuff, but if you pay the pre-cut, I’m not judging. Just don’t hide them in the veggie crisper until they’re rotten.

Zero Brain Cells, Zero Spoons, Still Gotta Eat

Some days you need a meal plan. Other days you need a panic button. Welcome to that section.

This is your permission slip to keep some “not ideal but still real” food around.

Not gourmet.

Not pretty.

But edible, filling, and more nutritious than staring blankly into the fridge until you cry. And the best part – if you spend a little bit of time on your good days to teach them, even an eight year can make most of these.

And someday you’ll hear “Maman, I know you don’t feel well, but will you eat a cheese omelet if I make one?” (Say yes and bask in pride because you deserve it.)

Here are my go-to options for when I’m mentally rebooting and just trying to keep everyone alive:

Bagels + Cream Cheese

Soft enough for kids, filling enough for adults. Add sliced cucumber or lunch meat if you’re fancy. If not? Still counts.

Campbell’s Tomato Soup + Milk

It’s not health food, but it’s warm and easy. Even an 8-year-old can heat it up while you lie on the floor making dolphin noises. Toast is nice, and easy to do. If you’ve taught the kids to make grilled cheese, you’ve got a full meal.

Canned Ravioli or Pasta

Judge all you want, but my kids will eat this without complaint. When I asked our pediatrician, he said, “Sometimes, it is all they will eat. Yes, of course keep some on hand always.” So there – a medical opinion. Heat. Dump into bowls. Done.

Tuna + Crackers

Tuna straight from the can or stirred with mayo. Pair it with crackers or shove it between two slices of bread. Instant lunch.

Baked Beans on Toast

Yes, it’s a British thing. But it’s also hot, filling, has protein and fiber, and doesn’t require any emotional commitment. And yes, that’s plain canned baked beans heated on the stove or microwave and scooped on plain white buttered toast.

Instant Rice + Canned Meat + Soy Sauce

Microwave rice. Dump in some canned chicken or ham. Splash on soy sauce. Pretend you made stir fry. It’s fine.

Instant Ramen + Egg

Boil water. Toss in a noodle brick. Crack an egg in. You are now officially a chef in college. Add frozen peas if you want to feel virtuous.

Eggs Any Way You Can Manage Them

Scrambled, fried, hard boiled in advance – whatever works. Eggs are protein magic and they cook fast. If you’re feeling energetic and want something that will make Future You very happy, boil a dozen eggs, peel them, and pop them into the fridge. Instant food.

Meal Replacement Drinks, Cereal, or Even a Dang Protein Bar

Listen. If all you can manage is a drinkable breakfast at 5 p.m., that’s still something. Don’t make it a moral issue.

These are not aspirational meals. These are the edible equivalent of putting on clean(ish) sweatpants and calling that self-care.

You don’t need to be thriving every day. Sometimes, you’re surviving. And that is more than enough.

When Ordering Out Feels Like a Boss Fight

Sometimes even summoning the will to open an app feels like a side quest you’re failing. (Have I been listening to the kids talk about games too much?)

Make a “Too Fried to Think” List

Stick it on the fridge. Keep it short. Include your go-to takeout places, what people actually eat, and which places you regret every single time.

You don’t need to be debating sauce choices when your brain is already wheezing into a paper bag.

App It Up: No Pants, No Problem

Bless the apps that let you order in total silence and ask for the food to be left on the porch like a feral raccoon.

Minimal human interaction. Maximum reward.

Honestly, we live in the future. Take advantage.

Ditch the Guilt, Keep the Grease

Yes, takeout is expensive. Yes, it’s not ideal. Yes, I said all that earlier.

But if it’s the only way to get calories into your meat suit today? It’s valid.

Fed is always better than not fed. I learned that over the years while breastfeeding (or not) my babies, and it’s just as valid when you’re fifty.

Just, you know – don’t let the pizza place know you better than your therapist does. Balance is key.

However, guilt helps no one.

Embrace the Chaos (and Maybe a Bit of Cheese)

This isn’t about becoming Meal Prep Royalty™ or always having dinner on the table at 6:00 with cloth napkins and a side of smug.

This is about feeding yourself somehow, anyhow, even when your brain feels like scrambled eggs.

Every time you shove something vaguely edible into your face instead of collapsing into a pit of self-loathing? That’s a win.

Every frozen lasagna you remembered to thaw, or at least stick in the oven early enough to thaw+cook before dinner time? Victory.

Every time you avoid the DoorDash spiral? Gold star.

So here’s to surviving the rough days – pants optional.

Here’s to the frozen meals, the grabby snacks, the greasy takeout, and the tiny acts of brilliance that keep us fed through the fog.

Because some days, just getting fed is an act of defiance. And you, my chaotic little genius, are doing just fine.

The Midday Reset Checklist (for When Your Brain Stops Braining)

June 3, 2025 by marie Leave a Comment

Let’s set the scene.

You’re halfway through the day. You’ve got 57 tabs open, physically and mentally. The kitchen’s a crime scene, there’s laundry breeding in the hallway, someone needs something again, and your brain?

Your brain just said, “What if we thought about that super awkward conversation from 2009 right now?” And you’re like, “Sure, sounds productive.”

Before you spiral further into becoming a feral goblin, let’s hit pause and do a midday vibe check. Because sometimes – especially if you’re sleep-deprived, overwhelmed, or your stress level just cranked up – you forget the basics that keep your squishy meat suit operating.

So here it is. A totally unserious, completely essential checklist to keep your day from nose-diving into chaos.

Future Me and Past Me Have a Problem

Future Marie and Past Marie are in a bit of a toxic situationship. Present Marie is just sitting in the middle like a beleaguered therapist. Can you relate?

“Okay, Past Marie, why didn’t you boil those eggs yesterday?”
“Because I was busy disassociating in the laundry room, okay?”
“Well, Future Marie is now low blood sugar, dizzy, and hissing at the children.”
“Not my problem.”

THE NEUROSPICY DAILY RESET CHECKLIST
(Because Present Me is sick of being the rope in this time-tug-o-war)

Have I eaten? Like, real food? Coffee doesn’t count unless it contains at least one egg.
Have I peed in the last 4 hours?
Do I know where my water bottle is?
Has the salt gods been appeased?
Do I feel more like a raccoon than a human? (This might be fine. You do you.)
What’s one tiny thing I can do to make Future Me say “oh yay” instead of “oh no”?
Did I move? Even a wiggle? Even dancing to one meme audio?
Do I need a nap, or do I need protein? (Flip a coin if unsure.)

Screech. Halt. Coffee with an Egg?

You know, I always feel weird when I tell people about this, but it’s delicious and it keeps me going for a long time. If a keto bro, a Vietnamese auntie, and a Hogwarts potions professor collaborated, this is what they’d make.

Here’s how I make my coffee:

Crack 1 (sometimes 2) egg in a large mug. Stick my immersion blender in and beat it well. Add 1 teaspoon monkfruit, 1 teaspoon MCT Oil, 1 teaspoon butter. Beat that in really well. Slowly add hot coffee while pulsing with the immersion blender. Don’t blend too much or it’ll swoosh over the top of the mug.

With one egg, it’s about 150 calories, 14 grams fat, 6.6 grams protein, and only 1 gram carbs.

Yes, you’ll still have to eat something solid during the day. I’m sitting here at 2:30 as the kids arrive from school and I realize that’ s the last thing I ate. Present Marie needs to go make some hardboiled eggs since Past Marie neglected to do the thing.

💦 If You Didn’t Pee, You’re Not Drinking Enough

Fun fact: The average human pees every 3–4 hours. If you just blinked and realized it’s been, like, seven… that’s a problem. Unless you’re doing a Lord of the Rings movie marathon and have just merged with the couch, you probably aren’t drinking enough water.

And that? That does bad things to your brain. Like, executive dysfunction levels go from “mild chaos” to “I forgot I was making toast two hours ago and now it’s a small black Frisbee.” Your body is 60% water, give or take. If you don’t refill it, your brain turns into a dusty attic full of squirrels and guilt.

So be kind to yourself. Pause. Pee. Hydrate. Repeat. Trust me – Future You will thank you (probably from the bathroom).

🫙 Where’s Your Water Bottle?

Let’s not get bogged down in semantics – maybe it’s a water bottle, maybe it’s a chipped mug that says “World’s Okayest Human,” maybe it’s an old jam jar with vibes. The point is: WHERE IS IT?

If you haven’t peed recently (see above 👀), I bet the thing that holds your water is not within arm’s reach. This is not a coincidence. Out of sight, out of bladder.

So go on. Find it. Refill it. Give it a little rinse if it’s starting to smell like last week’s regrets. Then put it next to you like a loyal hydration goblet. Because yes, your water bottle loves you. It just wants to see you succeed, glow, and pee at healthy intervals.

🧂 All Hail the Salt Gods

Let’s be real: Without salt, you will die. No, that’s not dramatic – it’s biochemistry. Your muscles need sodium to contract, your nerves need it to fire, and your cells need it to not shrivel up like raisins in the sun. So yes, you NEED SALT.

But somehow, we’ve built this weird cult of fear around salt – like it’s the white powder devil sneaking around in your food waiting to give you a heart attack.

And look, that might be true… if your entire diet is frozen pizzas and shelf-stable spaghetti in a can. That’s not appeasing the salt gods—that’s sacrificing yourself on their altar.

If you eat anything close to real food – heck, even if you just try to eat real food most of the time – especially on keto, carnivore, or anything low-carb, you need to actively chase salt just like your ancestors did. You’re flushing it out faster than a toddler with a new water gun, and if you don’t replace it, you’ll feel like death.

Headaches.

Fatigue.

Crankiness.

Nausea.

Your body will scream, “Please, I am just a humble bag of meat and water, and I crave the sacred crystals.”

So go ahead – honour the Salt Gods. Bless your roast with sea salt. Whisper sweet nothings to your electrolytes. And stop feeling guilty for salting your eggs.

🦝 Racoon or Human? (Honestly?)

It’s midday. You’re disheveled, mildly twitchy, and just made a weird noise when you stood up. You’ve been hunched over your tasks like a gremlin. Your hair is doing that thing. You know the one. How do I know – because I hit hyper-fixation mode and do the same thing.

So let’s pause for a second and ask: Is your body throwing up any engine lights?

Shoulders up around your ears?
Eyes dry?
Spine making “Rice Krispie” sounds?
Heart doing that fluttery “I drank coffee but forgot to eat” thing?
Emotional state: ✨feral✨?

Cool cool cool. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed at being a person. It just means it’s raccoon o’clock, and it’s time to make some choices.

Here’s what you can do:

🛌 Nap
Video games can wait. Your soul cannot. Go pretend to be a dramatic Victorian lady (regardless of gender). “I must to my bed!”

🎮 Or play that game.
The cozy one. The chaotic one. Mine is Sims 4 and I make their lives miserable. Or sometimes I lose an hour getting that porch just right. EJ prefers vampire games where he kills all sorts of digital bad guys. Whatever. You know what you need.

☀️ Or – and this is bold – step outside.
No, really.

Outside.

Touch grass.

Let the sun hit your skin.

Stare blankly into the sky like the solar-powered cryptid you are. (Not at the sun, at the sky.) Even five minutes of daylight can reset your brain. It’s like hitting Control-Alt-Del on your mood.

🙈 Or do absolutely none of the above and doom scroll until your brain resets.
Look, I’m not here to shame your coping methods. But if you do choose this route, at least get some water while you scroll, yeah? And set a timer because that stuff can suuuuuuuck you in.

Midday vibe checks aren’t about judgment – they’re about noticing.
Noticing that you’re running on fumes, that your inner raccoon is steering the ship, and that maybe, just maybe, it’s time to kindly tuck her in for a nap and let the human drive for a while.

🔮 Do Something for Future Me

Here’s the deal. We’re not aiming for grand gestures here. No one’s asking you to organize your taxes or alphabetize your spice rack by terroir. (Unless that sparks joy, in which case … I see you and am amazed by you.)

We’re talking tiny, merciful acts of kindness for your future self. The kind that make you stop mid-chaos tomorrow and go, “OH bless you, Past Me, you absolute legend.”

You know what I’m talking about:

☕ Prepping the coffee pot the night before.
Morning Me is a mess. Morning Me has no fine motor skills and really doesn’t want to be awake this earlier anyway. So Past Me, in her 10pm glory, scoops the grounds and fills the water. All hail her.

🍽️ Throwing supper in the slow cooker early.
Future Me at 3pm is spinning like a Sims character about to pee their pants. But Present Me? Present Me fried the steaks this morning and dumped them in the Crock-Pot. That’s right. Dinner is handled. Chef’s kiss. Kids can do the dishes.

👟 Putting shoes by the door.
Because Future Me will absolutely spend 10 minutes yelling “Where are my shoes?!” at a wall. This avoids that. Also applies to hanging up my purse on the hook my husband put up just for my purse. You’d be surprised how hard it can be to find a giant purple purse.

🧻 Refilling the toilet paper.
This one’s heroic. Truly. Past You deserves a statue.

💻 Closing tabs. Writing a sticky note. Plugging in your devices.
They’re all love letters to Future You, signed: “I remembered you exist.”

And hey—some days, “doing something for Future Me” might be:

🧸 folding two towels
🥚 boiling three eggs
🧂 refilling the salt container
🛏 pulling the clean sheets back before bedtime

So take a moment. Scan your world. Ask:
“What will make Future Me breathe a little easier?”

Then go do just one thing. That’s it. That’s the magic.

💃 Did You Move That Booty (Even a Little Bit)?

Look, I’m not here to shame anyone for fusing with the couch. I love that couch. That couch knows all my secrets.

But also: our bodies were not designed to sit in the same exact position for seven hours straight like a depressed gargoyle with WiFi.

Have you moved today?

No, not pee movement – we covered that and it’s not enough. I mean, did you:

Stretch even slightly?
Stand up for two minutes and shake out your limbs like a wet dog?
Do a kitchen dance while waiting for your coffee to brew?
Run up the stairs with the smug energy of someone who remembered laundry before the mildew kicked in?

Because your muscles? They’re petty. They hold grudges. If you ignore them, they go full union protest like:

“No glute activation today? Cool, we’ll just hurt tomorrow when you reach for a pencil. Good talk.”

They’re big on “use it or lose it” – which is a crap retirement plan if you ask me, but here we are.

And let’s not forget the other kind of movement. Yes, I’m talking about… 💩 poop.

Movement (body-type) helps with movement (bathroom-type). It’s all connected.

Feeling a little clogged up and cranky? Shake your tail feathers. Take a walk. Do a lunge. Wiggle weird in the kitchen while your cat judges you.

So, vibe check:

Have you stood up recently?
Have you moved anything that isn’t your scrolling thumb?
Can you do literally one stretch right now? Arms over head. Big breath. Shake the tension out. Boom. You moved. You did it.

Future You’s hip joints thank you.

😤 Do You Need Protein, a Nap, or to Go Poop?

There comes a point in every day – usually sometime between “the coffee wore off” and “why is my skin itchy and reality bendy” – when the world stops making sense and your brain just starts screaming like a haunted fax machine.

Come on, admit it. I’m not the only one who experiences that.

When that happens, pause and ask yourself:

🥩 Do You Need Protein?

Low blood sugar is a sneaky little gremlin. It doesn’t always show up like hunger. Sometimes it’s:

Crying over a commercial about cheese
Sudden rage at the way someone is chewing
Forgetting how to do things you literally do daily

Especially if you’re low-carb, keto, or carnivore, you need a solid hit of protein + fat to get your brain back online. Not a rice cake. Not air. Not vibes. Real food.

Old Mom Wisdom™: Pre-boiled eggs are magic. Slices of cold steak soothe your nerves. You can literally eat peanut butter by the spoon and no one will stop you.

🛏️ Do You Need a Nap?

Listen, I know. Naps are for kids. Except they’re not. They’re for overstimulated, exhausted meat robots running on cortisol and iced coffee. That’s us, babes.

Sometimes your body isn’t hungry or sick or broken – it’s just TIRED. Like, “system shutting down, please plug in brain for updates” tired. A 20-minute lie down can work miracles.

Make it a blanket burrito with cat attachment. Maximum recharge. Everyone knows a purring cat heals everything.

🚽 Do You Need to Go Poop?

This one’s the sleeper agent. You think you’re having an existential crisis, but really your colon just has unfinished business.

Kids get cranky when they need to poop. So do adults – we just get weird about admitting it.

You don’t need therapy, a breakup, or to burn your life down. You just need to go poop.

💩 Seriously.

If you’re pacing, annoyed, uncomfortable in your own skin, and nothing’s helping – have a big glass of water, then go sit on the toilet. Bring your phone or a book. Wait it out.

It’s not always mental health. Sometimes it’s a biological process being very behind schedule.

This isn’t a joke. I’m an old mom. I’ve seen things. Trust me – when in doubt, try pooping.

So next time your whole vibe goes off the rails?

Pause. Ask yourself: “Do I need protein, a nap, or to go poop?”

Odds are, the answer is yes to at least one.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s what gets you through the day instead of rage-quitting life and becoming a forest cryptid.

🧚‍♀️ Final Thoughts

You don’t have to do it all. Just check in with yourself like you would a kid you love.

Are you fed? Hydrated? Warm? Uncrunched?

This is not a productivity checklist. It’s a survival vibe check. Because sometimes your brain stops braining and you forget that you are a creature with needs, not just a floating anxiety ghost with thumbs.

So if you’re reading this in a half-dissociated haze, unsure where the day went—pause.

Do one thing from this list.

Then maybe another.

Then maybe take a nap.

And if you’re still overwhelmed, remember: You can always become a forest cryptid. But you don’t have to do it today.

The Daily Spark: How I plan and actually do things

June 2, 2025 by marie Leave a Comment

I have a love-hate relationship with planners. That is, I love to buy them, look at them, fill out all the pre-made pages, maybe even add in a few dates … and then by the time I’ve made a mess of a page or two, or perhaps left a week (or three) blank, it’s screaming at me:

You haven’t finished anything.
You wasted money on another planner.
It’s ruined—so much for your new perfect system.
Why did you think you’d get your life together?
When’s the last time you filled out that year-in-pixels chart? Don’t bother starting now.

If you’ve ever been there—buying another planner in January, full of hope and pastel tabs, only to abandon it mid-March because you missed a week and couldn’t bear to see the failure—you are very much my people. And what you need is an IMPERFECT system that’s impossible to mess up.

Why Traditional Planners Don’t Work for Brains Like Ours

Look, most planners are built for consistency. For people who have regular sleep schedules and remember to eat lunch and don’t get derailed for three days after a surprise phone call. (Yes, you should definitely text to warn me before you call.)

They assume if you didn’t check off your water intake or write down what you’re grateful for today, it’s because you forgot. Not because your brain glitched so hard you couldn’t decide whether to wash dishes or cry in the laundry basket.

And when the blank days start piling up, they don’t feel neutral. They feel like tiny little failures—evidence that you “can’t stick with anything.”

So you stop. Again. And maybe you whisper to yourself, “I’ll try again next year.”

Another planner gets dumped in the trash or tucked away on a shelf.

The Dopamine Drought and That One Person Who Just “Does It”

Ever heard someone say:

“Oh, I just know what I need to do and then I do it, even if I don’t want to.”

Cool, cool, cool. So do I. I know what to do. I’m not lazy. And yet sometimes, DOING THE THING feels like putting my hand on a hot burner. It’s just not going to happen.

Brains wired with ADHD or Autism often have a weird relationship with dopamine, serotonin, and other neurotransmitters. The systems meant to provide motivation, focus, and a sense of accomplishment don’t always work the way they’re supposed to.

That’s why even basic tasks—like remembering to brush your teeth or drink water (or pick the teens up from their after-school program!)—can feel frustratingly inconsistent.

Let’s tear this apart. Yes, it’s messy. Filled-in means I did it. An arrow means I’ve rescheduled it. A line through means that I decided against doing it at all. Both still tell my brain that I did a thing! There’s a box around stores so that I can see at a glance where I need to go. And a lot of those things were written after I did them.

The Dopamine Hack? Write it Down. Check it Off. Get the Boost.

Your brain craves reward signals, but it often fails to give them for routine tasks. Writing something down and checking it off (or colouring in a box) forces a small but tangible dopamine hit—tricking your brain into feeling accomplished, even for simple things like “Get dressed” or “Make coffee”.

That tiny reward loop makes it easier to engage, focus, and build momentum.

Can you see how messy this gets? How I decided to go through my spices instead of work on the blog? And how “tidy bathroom” turned into actually cleaning the room?

Why This Works (Even If It Feels Silly)

✔ Your brain loves patterns and systems—tracking tasks helps create a structure, making it easier to remember things naturally.

✔ When you physically check something off, it reinforces the habit, improving task memory and motivation.

✔ Even micro-wins (like ticking off “Sit up in bed”) provide dopamine fuel, helping you move toward bigger goals.

It’s not cheating, even if you’ll feel like it is at first—it’s brain hacking.

When motivation is unreliable, small intentional dopamine boosts help bridge the gap between “I need to do this” and “I actually did it.”

💡 Pro tip: If you didn’t write it down before hand, you can to write it after you do the thing, even the next day. Instant dopamine boost, no shame required.

My New Imperfect System: The Daily Spark

I didn’t come up with this. My friend Elizabeth told me to grab a notebook and write down “Make coffee” and “Drink coffee” while I was drinking my morning coffee.

I laughed—how could that possibly work?

And yet, all day, she kept nudging me: “Did you write that down?” And we DID things!

Now it’s what we say at my house all the time. Did you write that down?

I’ve modified it since, taking some stuff from bullet journalling. And by the way, I love the idea of bullet journalling – I just know I won’t do it. Here’s what makes the Daily Spark different:

The day is broken down by hour—but only when I need it. Why bother scheduling when I don’t need it?
I write things down after I do them. Feels weird, sure, but it’s key to making this work.
If I don’t use it for a few days? No shame. Turn the page and start where I am.
Blank space is not failure. It’s breathing room.

Here’s a day with a lot of time-specific events. I tried putting the tasks on a second page except … I apparently don’t see them when I do that. So, I squish them in, and it still works. And that big space where I have nothing? It’s because I knew I’d be on the move from 3:30 until 9:30 and if I didn’t have serious downtime during the day, I’d have had a meltdown.

Want to Try It?

I made a printable that matches what I use, but it’s not necessary. I’m not selling you anything here. A $1 scribbler from the dollar store is perfect for this – it’s flexible, disposable, and doesn’t come with any guilt.

The magic isn’t in fancy layouts or pre-printed boxes. It’s in the act of writing, colouring, and reinforcing tiny wins.

Woke up.
Didn’t die.
Snuggled the cat.
Got out of bed.
Made coffee.

You’re not broken. You just need a system that sparks with your brain.

Download the Daily Spark Printable Here

You’ve got this.

Interoception and Why You Might Not Feel Pain

June 2, 2025 by marie Leave a Comment

🧠🔧 Interoception is your brain’s ability to notice what’s going on inside your body.

Or in real-life terms? It’s your body’s dashboard — the warning lights, the fuel gauge, the “hey, you forgot to eat and that’s why you’re crying at laundry” alert.

But for those of us with neurodivergent wiring — ADHD, Autism, trauma history, sensory issues — that dashboard is glitchy as hell.

Sometimes the lights don’t come on.

Sometimes they flicker randomly.

Sometimes they scream “ENGINE FAILURE!!” when you just need a snack.

Sometimes they say nothing… until you’re halfway unconscious.

🧩 What’s Interoception Actually supposed to do?

It’s what lets you know:

You’re hungry
You need to pee
Your heart’s beating faster
You’re starting to get sick
That pain in your leg? Yeah, that’s bad.
You should lie down before you throw up or punch someone

Basically, everything that keeps you alive and functioning. If you’ve ever wondered how someone can forget to eat or not notice a broken toe — it’s probably glitchy interoception.

By the way, even if this confuses you and doesn’t apply to you, keep reading. About 30% of the population is neurodivergent, which means you almost certainly know someone who deals with interoception problems.

🚨 Glitchy Dashboard Syndrome

When your interoception is off, the internal messages get scrambled. Like:

“I’m not sure if I’m anxious or hungry or have to pee. Let’s just scroll TikTok and dissociate for a bit.”

Or:

“This migraine doesn’t feel that bad — I’ll just finish writing this blog post, pick up the kids, do the dishes… oh no I’m on the floor.”

And because the signals are either too quiet or too chaotic, you start ignoring them.
You start thinking:

“That warning light is always on. It’s probably fine.”

Until it’s very much not fine.

Real Life Examples from My Personal Circus

Let me just drop a few highlights:

🤕 Aonghus tripped and hurt himself on grass.

Literally nothing there. No rock, no stick. Just grass. He didn’t cry — just stood up and carried on. I only found out because his toe was all cut up (as though he had kicked a rock HARD) and bleeding, and he couldn’t explain how.

🔥 Eve grabbed a hot water pipe and blistered her hand.

Didn’t flinch. No tears. Just calmly showed me the damage. She once walked into the ER with a nail in her leg and was more curious about how weird it looked than concerned about the whole “impaled” thing.

😵 I’ll belch all day (and not even notice that) until someone reminds me to take a Tylenol.

That’s pain. But I rarely feel it. I burp it. My friend and massage therapist (hi, Elizabeth) says I should warn doctors that my pain scale is unreliable at best and misleading at worst.

🤕 I work through migraines all the time.

Mine are usually triggered by sinus pressure, which is bad enough — but I also have a recurrent brain tumour (astrocytoma), so when that area gets irritated, I get next-level migraines. My neurologist once asked, “Do you need to lie down in a dark room when these happen?” and I said, “Well, I could, but that’s not life, is it?” Apparently, most people don’t keep on living life when this happens, though.

🧠 What Happens When Pain Signals Go Weird?

Here’s where things get fun. When your brain doesn’t know how to say “hey, something hurts,” it improvises.

Here are a few weird, but totally legit, glitchy pain signals:

😆 Giggling (instead of crying or reacting appropriately — very common in kids)
🤢 Nausea (your stomach says “maybe I’m the problem?”)
🚽 Urgent poop run (hello vagus nerve)
🥶 Feeling cold/shivery/clamy (your body reacts like it’s in fever mode)
😐 Going emotionally flat or dissociating (can’t feel it if I’m not here)
🛏️ Sudden exhaustion (shutdown mode: activated)
🧴 Breaking out in rashes or hives
😡 Irritability (pain = pissed off and no one knows why)
😴 Sleepy for no reason (spoiler: there is a reason — your body just won’t say it out loud)

🧂 Why This Matters (Besides It Being Wildly Inconvenient)

If you can’t accurately interpret pain, hunger, illness, or stress … it’s really easy to ignore your needs. Or get dismissed when you do speak up, because your body isn’t reacting the “right” way.

“She’s not crying, it can’t hurt that bad.”

“He said he was fine.”

“They laughed, so it couldn’t be serious.”

(Ahem. Let me direct you to the 4-year-old bleeding from the face who said he was fine after falling on the pavement and the school just went with it. We changed schools. Immediately.)

🛠️ Living With a Glitchy Dashboard

We’re not broken.

We’re not being dramatic.

We’re just running an operating system that doesn’t send clean signals.

And learning to translate your body’s weirdness — and advocate for it — is a big part of neurodivergent survival.

You might need:

Pain scale translations (“If I say 4, it probably means 7”)
A partner/kid/friend who says “hey, you look pale, sit down” or “you’re belching again, take a Tylenol”
Schedules (or timers) with snack/pee/water breaks even if you “don’t feel like it”
To trust the data, not the feels

Final Thought

Interoception isn’t about being “in tune” with your body. It’s about having a working feedback system. And when it’s scrambled? You’re doing your best with unreliable tools.

This blog — like our lives — isn’t about being perfect. It’s about figuring it out as we go. Glitches, brilliance, body weirdness and all.

Want to Share Your Weirdest Glitchy Body Signal?

Drop it in the comments. I want to hear all the best “I walked on a broken ankle for three days and thought it was a cramp” stories.