Hey everyone, Summer here.
And welcome to... well, I'm not entirely sure what day this is, honestly.Monday? I think it's Monday. Between Christmas and New Year's, so it could beany day. Time has lost all meaning. We've entered the void.
If you're listening to this right now, you're probably in the samestrange liminal space I am—that weird week between Christmas and New Year'swhere nobody knows what day it is, pants are optional, and breakfast might beleftover pie at 2 PM.
Welcome to the week that doesn't exist.
Let's talk about it. Because honestly, this might be my favorite week ofthe entire year.
Okay, so here's what happened to me yesterday. Or maybe it was two daysago. Time is a flat circle right now, so I genuinely don't know.
I woke up, looked at my phone to check what day it was, saw "Monday,December 29th" and my brain just... rejected that information. Mondaydoesn't mean anything this week. December 29th is a fake date. These areplaceholder numbers the calendar is using until real time starts again onJanuary 1st.
I've been wearing the same sweatpants for three days. I had cookies forbreakfast. I started watching a movie at what I thought was early afternoon andwhen it ended it was dark outside. I have no idea if I have plans tomorrowbecause tomorrow isn't real yet.
And here's the beautiful thing: this is completely normal. We're allexperiencing this together.
The week between Christmas and New Year's exists in this strange temporalbubble where normal rules don't apply. Work emails go unanswered becausenobody's really working—they're just occasionally checking their inbox betweennaps and leftover turkey sandwiches. Productivity is a myth. Ambition issuspended. The entire world has collectively agreed to just... exist for aminute.
It's like we've all been given permission to stop. And we don't get thatpermission very often.
Most of the year, we're running. Chasing deadlines, meeting obligations,staying busy, being productive, hustling, grinding, optimizing every moment.Even our rest is productive—we're supposed to rest efficiently so we can workbetter tomorrow.
But this week? This weird, timeless, in-between week? Nobody expectsanything from you. Your boss isn't expecting productivity. Your friends aren'texpecting you to have your life together. Society has collectively shrugged andsaid "eh, it's that weird week, nobody really exists right now."
And I think that's kind of magical.
I started calling this week "the void" a few years ago, and thename stuck. Because that's what it feels like—you've fallen into a void betweentwo years, floating in this space where past and future both feel distant andthe only thing that exists is right now.
And being in the void is actually... really nice?
Think about it. When was the last time you had days where you genuinelydidn't have to be anywhere or do anything? Where you could wake up without analarm, eat whenever you felt like it, wear whatever's comfortable, do whateversounds appealing in the moment?
For most of us, this happens maybe once or twice a year. And this week isone of those times.
So here's what I'm doing with my void week, and I want to give youpermission to do the same:
Absolutely nothing productive.
I'm not setting goals. I'm not making plans. I'm not using this time to"get ahead" or "prepare for the new year" or "organizemy life." That stuff can wait until January 2nd. Right now, I'm in thevoid, and the void demands nothing.
I'm eating leftovers at weird times. Christmas cookies for breakfast?Sure. Turkey sandwich at 10 PM? Why not. That cheese ball nobody touched onChristmas Eve? It's mine now. Normal meal schedules don't exist in the void.
I'm rewatching movies I've seen a hundred times. Not new movies thatrequire attention and emotional investment. Comfort movies. The ones that feellike a warm blanket. The ones I can half-watch while scrolling my phone orstaring into space.
