Solving problems that can be solved
My feet are almost always cold, especially when I get into bed at night. If they’re still cold by the time I try to fall asleep, I contort myself into a little ball, trying to warm them on my calves or tuck them up into a warm spot under the covers. All of this can be avoided by putting on some socks.
But once I’m in bed, do I want to get up and walk ALL THE WAY to the closet and get those socks? Hell no. Wouldn’t that just make my whole body cold for twenty unbearable seconds? Better to lie here and hope my feet magically warm themselves.
At the tender age of forty-nine, I’ve finally ended my misery with the ingenious idea of putting some socks in my bedside table.
This is, I know, a truly banal story. For me however, it’s become symbolic of something I’m aiming to do more of: solve problems that can be solved.
My cold feet are a perfect example of the kind of little irritation we get so used to that we don’t even bother trying to do anything about it. We just live with it and vaguely wish it was some other way, but don’t really take any action to change it.
In 2025, I’m trying to identify more of these everyday friction points and troubleshoot them. I know I’m not going to smooth my life out into a totally seamless experience where no frustrations ever intrude. I also know that not every problem can be dealt with as easily as sticking some socks in a drawer. I have a sneaking suspicion, though, that there are many easily-fixed annoyances that I’ve been in denial about. So why not make things a tiny bit easier for myself (and hopefully others around me, e.g. my partner who doesn’t want my cold feet against his) with some attempts to minimize iritations?
Sometimes these fixes are free, like moving something to a place where it’s most needed in your house. Sometimes it means having two or three of something so you don’t have to go upstairs or downstairs to get, say, your hand lotion or an Advil. If you’re like me, that barrier might mean having cracked skin or a dull headache for way longer than you need to.
I don’t like to suggest that rushing out and buying things is always the way to solve problems, but sometimes you might have to admit that a cordless vacuum would mean you can deal with scattered cat litter in seconds, you could actually vacuum the damn stairs, and you might even clean the basement once in a while if you don’t need to lug the big corded machine down there. (This message is brought to you by the Dyson I bought after I tripped and fell down several steps with my corded stick vac).
Suffering is inevitable in this life. I get it. But there’s no law that says we have to create and endure our own suffering. There is plenty of suffering out there looking for you; you don’t need to add to it by having cold feet and chapped hands and dirty little cat litter trails all over the house. What problems around you don’t actually need to be problems?
What I’m reading: I’m extremely late to the Annie Dillard party, but I’m reading The Writing Life and starting to understand why she has a Pulitzer.
What I’m watching: The Law According to Lidia Poët on Netflix. Very sharp and entertaining so far! Her outfits are also amazing.