Most of the things we avoid are not hard. They are unfinished. And unfinished things take up more space in your head than they ever take up in your day.

Imagine my surprise when it took five minutes to put my bed back together after the frame broke over a year ago. (It is broken again now, and I do need to call a carpenter, but let’s focus on the point.)

That broken bed lived in my head for 14 months. Fourteen months of “I should really fix this.” Fourteen months of avoiding the sound it made every time I sat on it and promising myself I would get someone to handle it. And then, one random day, it took five minutes.

       Five.

Right before going to bed, my mind replays the list of things I have not completed. I lie there staring at the ceiling, half annoyed, half guilty, wondering where the time went. Meanwhile, the unfinished tasks just sit there, open, like the Chrome tabs I refuse to close. And somehow, they manage to make me feel like I’m failing at life.

So, I tell myself I will wake up early and tackle everything. Tomorrow, I will lock in. For now, I will rest. Work hard, play hard, right?

But how much time do these tasks actually need?

I once followed a TikTok series by Christi Newrutzen, who documents how long it takes her to complete tasks she has delayed. In the first video I saw, she cleaned out four junk drawers she had avoided for a year and a half. It took 31 minutes.

Thirty-one minutes to end a year-long mental argument with herself.

In another video, she timed how long it took to clean out the dust vent under her fridge. It had been clogged for ages and contributed to the fridge breaking down. Cleaning out the coils once every six months would have helped prevent the damage. So she cleaned it to see how long the “prevention” version of the task would take. 24 minutes.

She has made dozens of these videos now: clips of emails, calls, small repairs, doctor’s appointments, decluttering corners, cleaning out bins, and donating clothes she has not been able to fit into for five years. Most of these tasks don’t take up to an hour. And yet she’s held off on doing them for years.

The comments on her posts are often similar, and they are always funny in the saddest way: people confessing that the things they’ve been avoiding for months took only minutes to sort out.

An email: five minutes. Replying to a message: two. Booking a dentist’s appointment: three. (By the way, you should visit your dentist and stop putting it off until you have a cavity. Don’t be like me.) 

Here’s what I’ve learned: what we avoid is rarely as time-consuming as we imagine. What it really consumes is mental space.

That’s why procrastination feels heavier than it actually is. Unfinished things are usually ‘loud’. They sit quietly in the background and still manage to dominate your mood, interrupt your sleep, and make you feel behind even when you’re technically “doing a lot”. 

And the longer a task stays unfinished, the bigger it seems. It turns into a character flaw in your mind and becomes “something about you” instead of “something I need to do”. You start telling yourself stories about yourself that may not be true: I’m lazy. I can’t focus. I’m indisciplined. I never follow through. I always start but don’t finish. Despite the self-flagellation, the task is never done if you don’t move the muscle to do it.

There is something powerful about timing yourself to do what you avoid. It strips the drama away and forces you to confront the truth: that many of your open loops are small. They just feel huge because you’ve been carrying them for too long.

The task is probably shorter than the guilt.

I need you to take note of this: your mind treats unfinished tasks like unresolved danger. It keeps reminding you of the things you’re “supposed” to do that could embarrass you later, as if that will protect you. But that’s a terrible strategy.

Instead of compelling you to do the task, it just reminds you that you haven’t done it, repeatedly, sometimes at the worst possible moments. Like at 1 a.m. when you’re watching reels instead of sleeping.

So here is an experiment: write a list of everything you have been postponing. Brain dump. You can add to the list as time progresses. Every day, set a 15-minute timer. Pick one task. Do it. Record how long it actually takes. That’s it.

You’re not trying to become a new person in seven days. You’re trying to collect proof that your mind has been exaggerating. And if 15 minutes feels like too much, start with seven. Or the duration of a song you like. And the rule is that you don’t have to finish. You just have to start.

You may find out that what has been stressing you for months only needed a few minutes of courage. And you’ll feel so much lighter for it.

By the way, here are some “adult tasks” people often delay until they become emotional baggage:

Replying to the email you keep rereading.

Booking that appointment (dentist, doctor, pap smear, therapy, driver’s license, passport, etc).

Giving away that item you already know you won’t use.

Cancelling the subscription you forgot you’re still paying for.

Sending the invoice / following up for payment.

Calling the artisan (carpenter, plumber, electrician).

Clearing one drawer, not your whole house.

Filling the form you’ve opened ten times.

Going through your bank statement for five minutes.

Responding to one message you’re avoiding because you “don’t have the energy”.

Most of these tasks are not hard. They are not awkward. They only require a tiny moment of courage. And that moment is what we keep postponing.