How to Tell If You're Dehydrated (and Fix It Fast)

Green Tea Is My Whole Personality

If you’ve ever spoken to me for more than ten minutes, you already know. Green tea is in my hand, in my bag, in my desk drawer, in the cup ring on every surface I own. I drink it from the moment I wake up to the moment I’m pretending I’m about to go to bed. I am, technically, very well hydrated. I am also, technically, addicted to a leaf.

The thing I had to make peace with is that green tea is just flavoured water. That’s it. That’s the whole reveal. For years I treated it like a separate, more sophisticated category of liquid, like I was getting away with something by sipping it instead of plain water. But it’s water. Lovely, antioxidant rich, slightly fancy water. Same with the warm water I drink throughout the day because it’s gentle on digestion and makes my whole system feel like it’s been given a soft little hug from the inside.

Once I stopped being precious about what counts and what doesn’t, hydration got easier. I’m not switching to plain water because I find it boring and life’s too short. I’m just acknowledging that every cup of green tea, every glass of warm water, every herbal situation I brew when I’m pretending to wind down, all of it is doing the job. Your hydration doesn’t have to be aesthetic. It just has to happen.

Stop Waiting Until You’re Thirsty

Nobody talks about thirst properly, so I will. By the time you actually feel it, you’re already behind. Your body has been waving little flags at you for ages and you’ve been ignoring them because you were busy answering emails or arguing with someone in your head. Thirst is the last warning, not the first. It’s your body’s version of, babe, we’ve been trying to reach you about your extended hydration warranty.

So you’ve got to drink before you need to. Build it into the scaffolding of your day so you’re not relying on your dehydrated brain to make sensible decisions. A glass of warm water when you wake up, before anything else touches your lips. A cup of green tea while you’re doing whatever passes for a morning routine. A bottle on your desk that you actually refill, instead of staring at it like it’s an art installation.

I keep a bottle in my bag at all times. Not for the aesthetic. For survival. Because I’m out and about, I don’t drive, and if I wait until I’m thirsty on a Brisbane summer afternoon at a bus stop, I’m going to be that woman dramatically draping herself across the bench while strangers wonder if they should call someone. We’re not doing that. We’re sipping pre-emptively like sensible women with foresight.

Notice What Dehydration Actually Feels Like

This is the bit I want you to pay attention to, because it changed everything for me. Dehydration doesn’t always show up as a dry mouth. It’s sneakier than that. It dresses up in other costumes and you don’t recognise it. You think you’re tired. You think you’re moody. You think you’re losing it. You’re just dry.

For me, brain fog is always the first sign. That fuzzy, slightly underwater feeling where I’m reading the same sentence three times and still couldn’t tell you what it said. Then the lethargy creeps in, the kind where standing up feels like a project requiring three separate funding applications. Then the mood goes. Suddenly everything is annoying. Lulu’s existence is annoying. The kettle taking too long is annoying. My own reflection in the window is annoying. And the wildest part is that two big glasses of water can reverse all of it within twenty minutes.

Once you start tracking it, you can’t unsee it. You’ll feel the fog rolling in and instead of spiralling about whether you’re getting old, burnt out, or quietly losing your mind, you’ll think, hang on, when did I actually last drink something. The answer will usually be embarrassing. Then you drink, and your personality comes back online, and you remember you are in fact a delight.

Make Hydration Stupidly Easy

If your hydration plan requires willpower, you’ve already lost. Willpower is a finite resource and most of mine has been spent making it through the work day without sending an unhinged email. We need systems, not discipline. Set things up so drinking water is the path of least resistance, not a daily test of character.

A bottle you actually like the look of helps more than you’d think. Glass, stainless steel, whatever. Something that doesn’t feel like a punishment to hold. Keep it filled. Keep it visible. If it’s in your eyeline, you’ll drink from it. If it’s hidden in a cupboard with good intentions, it might as well not exist. Same goes for the kettle. Mine is on the bench, plugged in, ready to go, because if I had to dig it out every time I’d simply collapse and dehydrate quietly.

Pair the drinking with something you already do. Cup of warm water before your first scroll of the day. Green tea while you check your calendar. A glass of water before every meal, not because it does anything magical, but because it’s an easy trigger to remember. Stack hydration onto existing habits and suddenly you’re getting it done without thinking. That’s the goal. We’re not aiming for impressive. We’re aiming for automatic.

It’s the Cheapest Thing You’ll Ever Do for Yourself

Look, I’m a fan of expensive self care. Facials, fortnightly nails, the works. But none of it lands the way it should if you’re walking around dehydrated. You can layer all the serums in the world on dry, depleted skin and you’ll still look like you’ve been mildly haunted. Your makeup will catch in places it shouldn’t. Your under eyes will throw their own little party of darkness. Your hair will be flat. Your everything will be flat.

Water is the most underrated tool in your entire wellness arsenal. It’s free, or near enough. It’s accessible. It doesn’t require an appointment, a postcode, or a personality. It just requires you to remember you have a body and that the body would quite like to be wet on the inside, please and thank you. The return on investment is genuinely ridiculous.

So this is your reminder. Not in a wagging finger way. In a babe, I’ve been there, please go fill up your cup kind of way. Drink the water. Drink the tea. Drink the warm water with the lemon if that’s your thing. Just stop waiting until you’re a cranky little raisin to take care of the most basic input your body needs. Go on. Go and drink something. I’ll wait.

We Need to Stop Clapping for Basic Decency – Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity

In today's episode of Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity, we're unpacking why we need to stop clapping for basic decency. You know the script. A man texts back within twenty-four hours and we're screenshotting it to the group chat. A man plans a date more than three hours in advance and we call him a unicorn. A man manages to listen, pay attention, and behave like a fully formed adult, and our nervous systems short-circuit because we genuinely don't know how to receive it.Here's the truth nobody is saying out loud. The bar has been dragged so low that Satan himself needs a chiropractor after a competitive round of limbo. We've been culturally trained to be grateful for behaviour that should not require gratitude. We've been told these things are bonuses when they're actually the entry requirement. And in the meantime, women have been quietly doing the basic decency thing forever, without applause, while men get standing ovations for outputs we generated for them.Today we're talking about why a great man is genuinely just an average woman, who benefits when the bar stays low, the invisible labour women have been performing for free for centuries, and the friend-test that cuts straight through every excuse we've ever made for mediocre men. Let's get into it.For more visit BryJaimea.com or follow over on IG @BryJaimea

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