Thing Adjacent

This is my actual favorite piece of advice to give everyone, regardless of brain chaos or not.

It helps you when you’re depressed, it helps you when you need to challenge your anxiety, and it enables you to stay on track when your executive function refuses to touch the task you need to do.

But Del, what is it?

Thing – Adjacent.

Do the thing that sits beside what you need to do.

I know, that sounds weird. Bear with me.

What does Adjacent mean? It means next to OR adjoining something else.

‘Thing’ is the placeholder, like X in algebra.

If ‘write the article’ feels impossible, ‘organize your notes’ is thing-adjacent.

But Del, doesn’t that just mean not doing the thing?

Not quite. The point of thing-adjacent isn’t to give yourself a pass for not doing the task—it’s to sneak up on it. You’re dismantling your brain’s resistance while still staying productive.

This is how I finally made sense of the classic ‘break tasks down’ advice. It never clicked for me until I renamed those smaller pieces as ‘adjacent.’ My brain couldn’t split a task into parts—it was all or nothing. But when I reframed it as, ‘What’s one small piece that’s still useful but not the whole thing?’—suddenly, I could move forward.

But Del, I don’t know what’s adjacent to that thing.

That’s okay. This is where my favorite advice always comes in: make lists.

Sit down and consider the tasks you struggle with most. Write them down.
Now start a new list—or build off the first one. (We can never have too many lists, and I’ll fight you on that point.) Ask: what are the tiniest ways to almost do that task without taking on the whole thing?

Here’s an excerpt from one of my own recurring lists:

• Main Task: Write 1,000 words
→ Adjacent Task: Revise what I wrote last. Make a list about what might come next. Choose my top 3 next things.

• Main Task: Fold the clean laundry
→ Adjacent Task: Sort items by where they go (towels, mine, my son’s). If that’s still too much, start with just the towels.

• Main Task: Wash the floors
→ Adjacent Task: Pick up garbage, toys, or anything in the way first. Clear the space to make the actual task easier.

• Main Task: Budget out the next two weeks
→ Adjacent Task: Write down all upcoming bills, subscriptions, and deposits—without totals yet. Totals can trigger stress, so save them for last. By then, you’ll often be ready to finish.

Some helpful tools

• Use a three-column pad: one for your main tasks, and two for one adjacent task each.
• Change your wording: if ‘thing-adjacent’ feels too silly, try calling them Action Steps instead.
• Leave yourself reminders that adjacent still counts. You’re not lazy, broken, or avoiding—you’re building momentum.

Final Thoughts

This tactic has simplified so much of my life—and not just for chores. I’ve wanted to study psychology for years. When I finally had the chance, I failed year one twice in a row. That’s when I was diagnosed with ADHD. I’m not giving up, but I know I need to be in the right space long-term to tackle it again.

In the meantime, I do this—I help fellow neurodivergent creatives find systems that work for them. It’s not therapy, but it’s adjacent enough to make me happy while I prepare for my next (and hopefully final) attempt at school.

Even if I’m not a psychologist yet, helping others hack their chaos is perfectly thing-adjacent to that dream.