👋 Hi fellow dumdums,

You know that junk drawer in your kitchen? The one with four dead batteries, three expired coupons, a lone chopstick, and a mysterious key that unlocks… deep personal confusion?

Yeah. That drawer is your brain.

We like to believe we’re above all that. Too evolved, too mindful, too on top of things to be thrown off by minor clutter.

But then there’s the unopened emails. The dying houseplant we’ve decided is “in recovery.” The group chat we muted six months ago but still scan like we’re deciphering a hostage note.

“It’s fine,” we tell ourselves. “These are small things.” Right. And termites are just tiny bugs.

The truth is, little things pile up. And pretty soon your brain feels less like a sleek thinking machine and more like a garage where your best ideas are buried under a moldy beanbag and a box labeled “Misc.”

So today, we’re going to explore the deceptively dumb, but effective ways to declutter your brain and give you:

✓ Clarity
✓ Momentum
✓ Mental space for creativity and courage
✓ A fighting chance at being the version of you that doesn’t doomscroll while microwaving sad leftovers

Let’s Marie Kondo Your Brain, but With Jazz Hands

1. The One-Sock Rule

If you found a single sock in your drawer with no match, would you keep it?

No. You’d briefly wonder where its partner ran off to (Cuba?), shrug, and toss it.

Same goes for brain clutter.

We’re not talking about the weird little idea you had for an app that rates public benches (that’s gold, keep it).

We’re talking about emotionally stale thoughts like:

• The pressure to “finally figure out Excel”

• The social dread of a text you never answered

• That inner monologue about becoming a better person that only shows up in the shower

These are your one-sock thoughts. No plan. No pair. Just mental lint.

Challenge: Write one of those nagging thoughts on a sticky note.

Now:
→ Crumple it
→ Toss it
→ Burn it (safely)
→ Or fold it into a paper plane and launch it toward the nearest trash can like it’s a message from your past self saying “let it go.”

Physical action = mental closure.
Even if it’s silly. Especially if it’s silly.

2. The Ghost Tab Test

Every open browser tab is a tiny responsibility your brain is still babysitting.
Now imagine your mind is doing the same thing.

Ghost tabs look like:

• “I should learn French.”

• “I need to fix my posture.”

• “Should I start meditating or just hydrate more aggressively?”

They linger. Drain you. Pretend to be important.

Challenge: Create a “Mental Tab List.” Jot down your top 5 recurring thoughts.
Next to each one, write the tiniest possible action you could take to:

→ Close it
→ Move it forward
→ Or officially snooze it for later

Now pick just one and take that action.

Just one.

Your brain will feel seen—like you finally clicked “Save & Exit” after years of leaving it hanging.

3. The Reverse To-Don’t List

(Still the GOAT)

Most people have a to-do list.

But only the truly enlightened (or slightly unhinged) keep a to-don’t list.

This is for the stuff you’re doing out of guilt, habit, or a lifelong commitment to making your schedule feel like a hostage situation.

Examples:

• Responding to every “just checking in” email within 90 seconds

• Finishing TV shows you secretly hate

• Attending meetings that could’ve been a nap, a sandwich, or literally nothing at all

Challenge: Write down 3 things you’re officially giving yourself permission to not do this week. Draw a big, satisfying ✖️ next to each one. Then reward yourself with a cookie. Or an intentional nap. Or a minute of silent rebellion.

Dumb Word of the Day: Ragbag

(noun) – A confused mix of unrelated stuff. Originally a literal bag for storing rags. Now, your brain.

Used in a sentence:
“My brain today is a ragbag of song fragments, half-finished emails, and one persistent thought about whether ducks have knees.”

A ragbag doesn’t look like much—just a pile of junk, until you realize you’ve been weirdly sentimental about a single unmatched sock for six years. Thoughts are the same. You keep them around, not because they’re useful, but because they’ve been there so long they’ve started paying rent.

But every now and then, it’s healthy to dump the whole thing out, hold each piece up to the light, and ask, “Is this useful? Or is it just a mental tube top from 2006 I’m afraid to throw away?”

Dejunk accordingly.

P.S. Ducks do, in fact, have knees. They're just super low-key about it. Cool. I’m going to dejunk that now.