Spoon Theory 101: Planning Your Day When Energy is Limited

Some Days Start at Zero

Some days I wake up and quite simply, I have zero spoons left. Ok, maybe one spoon. It’s hiding under the metaphorical couch cushions of my brain, covered in dust and regret, but it’s there. And yet, life doesn’t stop for zero spoon days. There’s still a cat to feed (Lulu is not subtle when hungry), voice notes from the bestie waiting like enthusiastic pigeons, websites to manage, and a fridge glaring at me like, “Ma’am, you need to cook something.”

The thing is, even on those one spoon days, I still expect myself to do everything. I look at my to-do list with all the hope of a child opening a Christmas present and then immediately burst into tears because surprise, it’s a lump of coal. Again. But learning to work with limited energy means learning to prioritise. What actually matters today? What can wait? And what, quite honestly, can be lovingly thrown into the bin?

On the roughest days, the answer is simple: Lulu gets fed, and I sit on the sofa with a hot cup of green tea and cry about capitalism. Planning your day when you’re running on empty isn’t about getting more done. It’s about doing less, on purpose. It’s about giving yourself grace and choosing what truly matters, spoon by spoon.

The One Spoon Strategy

When you’ve only got one spoon, it’s time to get scrappy. Think of it as your daily boss battle. You don’t waste your last sword swing on a side quest, right? You use it on the big bad. That means asking yourself one key question first thing in the morning: what is the one thing I absolutely have to do today?

Maybe it’s a work meeting you can’t reschedule. Maybe it’s cooking dinner. Maybe it’s brushing your hair for the first time in three days so you no longer resemble a forest witch (been there). The key is choosing your non-negotiable and letting the rest exist in a bubble of “maybe tomorrow.” Giving yourself permission to not do everything is half the battle.

And no, this isn’t laziness. It’s strategy. It’s survival. It’s giving yourself the space to rest and recover without guilt gnawing away at you. When your body and brain are already stretched thin, using your one spoon on something that actually nourishes you (physically or emotionally) is a radical act of self-love. Let your inbox wait. The world won’t end if you ignore it for a bit.

Spoon Triage: Decide, Delegate, Ditch

So what about the days when you’ve got two or three spoons? It’s time for Spoon Triage, my love. First: Decide. What needs doing today? Not in the vague stressy sense, but truly, deeply needs doing. Decide your spoon-worthy tasks like you’re the Queen of Priorities and all must bow before your wise judgement.

Second: Delegate. Can someone else do it? Can you half-arse it? Can you order DoorDash? Can Lulu eat the same kibble for one more day? Spoiler: yes*. This is not the time to be a perfectionist. This is the time to slap on a crown, appoint some loyal minions, and save your spoons for what really matters.

Third: Ditch. If it’s not essential and you’re already feeling wobbly, yeet it out of your mental space. Yes, yes, easier said than done. But ditching the non-essential is the only way you’re going to survive a low spoon day without combusting. And if anyone tries to guilt you about it? Hand them a spoon and tell them to try running your life for a day. Bet they’ll sit down real fast.

*Except for Lulu, he will be having words with the manager if he doesn’t get his fancy-pants pate.

Spoon Buffers and Rest Guilt

If you’ve ever used all your spoons by noon, you’ll know the post-spoon crash is real. You start the day thinking, “I can do it!” and by 1pm you’re sobbing on the kitchen floor because you opened one too many tabs. This is where Spoon Buffers come in. I always plan for less, not more. I leave space. I don’t fill every moment with doing.

We’re not robots. And if you are a robot, congratulations, please teach me your ways. But for the rest of us, rest is non-negotiable. The hardest part? Not feeling guilty about it. We’ve been conditioned to associate rest with laziness, but that’s capitalist brainwashing, and I, for one, refuse to subscribe. Rest is how we refuel our spoons. It’s not indulgent. It’s essential.

So build in your rest like it’s a VIP event. Light a candle, get under a blanket, and let yourself just exist. No multitasking. No guilt. If you need to call it “scheduled regeneration” to make it feel more official, go for it. But protect your rest like you would protect Lulu from a vacuum cleaner*. Fiercely and without compromise.

*I don’t actually have a proper vacuum cleaner, I have two rhoombas – one for upstairs, one for downstairs. One was free. The upstairs one is dumb, but quiet, and Lulu is fascinated by it and loves the watch it bump into anything and everything. The downstairs rhoomba, the one I paid for, isn’t as dumb but by damn is it one noisy mofo. Lulu avoids this one.

Emergency Spoon Kits

Sometimes the spoons just don’t show up. You wait, you hope, you drink a litre of green tea, and still nothing. That’s when it helps to have an Emergency Spoon Kit. Think of it like a grab bag for survival. Mine includes: dry shampoo, frozen meals, a pre-written out-of-office reply, and a playlist that makes me feel like I’m the main character in a sad indie film.

I also keep a stash of clean pyjamas, easy snacks (cheese stringers), and dank memes around for morale support. This isn’t about thriving. This is about making it through with as little effort as possible. When your brain and body are tapped out, future-you will thank past-you for preparing.

Don’t forget emotional tools too. Mantras like “this will pass” or “I’ve done hard things before” can be tiny spoons in disguise. And sometimes, your Emergency Spoon Kit might just be giving yourself permission to not show up, to cancel plans, to do absolutely nothing. Survival is enough. Truly.

Currently operating on one spoon, zero patience, and half a brain cell.

The Spoons Will Come Back

The beautiful thing about spoons is they do eventually return. Sometimes not as quickly as we’d like, but they trickle back in with a good night’s sleep, a long bath, or a decent laugh with a friend. It’s important to remember that one spoon days are temporary. Even if they happen often. Even if they feel endless.

I’ve learned not to panic when I’m in the depths of spoonlessness. I don’t try to fight it anymore. I treat it like a tide. It comes in. It goes out. I ride the waves, whisper sweet nothings to my energy levels, and wait for the moment I wake up and feel slightly more alive. Slightly more me.

You are not your spoons. You are not your productivity. You are not how tidy your house is or how many texts you responded to. You are a chaotic, magical, stubborn little star who keeps showing up, even when it’s hard. And that, my darling, is enough.

You Are Not Entitled to an Answer – Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity

In this episode of Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity, we're unpacking why you are not entitled to an answer. Specifically, we're talking about the strange little corner of modern dating where a few days of app chat somehow becomes an emotional contract, and suddenly a man you've never met believes your silence requires a formal explanation, a debrief, and possibly a follow-up meeting with management.I have two stories for you. One man who talked almost exclusively about himself, ignored the fact that I was sick, and then followed up a week later asking whether I'd reconsidered his "request for clarification". And another who became offended because I didn't respond to his selfie within two hours while I was lying in a dark room with a migraine. Sir. Please be serious.Because here's the thing. Before you've met someone, you do not owe them unlimited access to your time, attention, reassurance, or emotional labour. You don't have to justify why the vibes changed. You don't need a reason they'll consider reasonable. You are allowed to disengage because something felt off, because you changed your mind, because you met someone else, or because you're in your luteal phase and frankly the entire world can wait.Today we're talking about the difference between ghosting and simply disengaging, why demanding closure can become a boundary violation, the exhausting expectation that women should manage men's feelings for them, and why you do not need to JADE, justify, argue, defend, or explain, when you've already decided you're done. Let's get into it.Key Takeaways:A few days of chatting does not create a debt. Matching on an app, exchanging messages, or talking on the phone does not give someone a claim on your attention. Until you've actually built a connection, you are allowed to walk away without submitting supporting documentation.Closure is not something another person can demand from you. Asking once is one thing. Continuing to push after someone has clearly disengaged is not persistence or emotional maturity. It's refusing to accept the answer you've already been given.You do not need to JADE. You don't have to justify, argue, defend, or explain why you're no longer interested. The reason doesn't have to be good enough for him. It just has to be yours.Pre-date silence and post-date silence are not the same thing. If you've never met, disengaging is part of app dating. Once you've shared an actual date or developed a genuine connection, a simple goodbye becomes basic courtesy. Nobody needs a dissertation, but acknowledging another human being matters.Sometimes they don't miss you. They miss the audience. Someone can seem interested while actually being interested in having your attention. Real connection requires curiosity about you. If the only time they become deeply engaged is when you're leaving, pay attention to that.For more visit  ⁠BryJaimea.com⁠ or follow over on IG  ⁠@BryJaimea

1. You Are Not Entitled to an Answer 14:41
2. We Need to Stop Clapping for Basic Decency 11:56
3. The Wine Aunt Manifesto 16:21
4. Who Said Anything About a Crisis? 13:07

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