I currently have several things that are almost done.
This sounds like good news.
It is not.
Almost done means the hard part is finished. The document is written. The form is filled out. The email is drafted. The appointment has been researched. The laundry has made it through both the washer and the dryer.
Look at us go.
Except the document still needs one small edit. The form needs to be submitted. The email needs an attachment. The appointment needs to be scheduled. And the laundry? We don’t discuss the chair.
None of these things requires very much actual work anymore. But every single one of them is still taking up space in my brain. Because almost done is still not done.
And apparently my brain would like to keep every unfinished thing running quietly in the background until further notice.
Almost Done Creates a Different Kind of Work
We talk a lot about the energy it takes to start something.
And we should.
Starting can be incredibly difficult, especially when a task is vague, overwhelming, boring, or has approximately 47 steps hiding inside it.
But there’s another part of executive function that doesn’t get nearly as much attention: closing things out.
Finishing the last step. Sending the thing. Putting it away. Following up. Checking the final box. Moving something from I still need to deal with this to this no longer requires anything from me.
That last part matters more than I used to realize.
Because until something is actually finished, some part of my brain is still responsible for it.
Your Brain Has to Keep the Tab Open
I’ve used the browser-tab comparison before because, frankly, it continues to be accurate.
Imagine every unfinished task is a tab.
Some tabs are important. Some tabs have been open so long that you’re now afraid to close them. Some are playing audio somewhere, but you can’t figure out which one. And some contain a form you started three weeks ago that you are absolutely, definitely going to finish.
Tomorrow. Probably.
Every almost-finished task requires your brain to remember something about it.
I still need to send that. I need to ask her one more question. I need to put that date on the calendar. I need to review that before Friday. I need to move the laundry. I need to –
Wait. What was I doing?
Even when you’re not actively working on those things, they’re still part of the mental inventory you’re trying to maintain.
And maintaining an inventory takes energy.
The Last Step Can Be Weirdly Hard
This is the part that can feel ridiculous.
You already did 95% of the work. Why can’t you just do the last 5%? Excellent question. Would also love to know.
Sometimes that last step requires a different kind of effort from everything that came before it.
Maybe you wrote the entire email, but now you have to find the attachment. Maybe you completed the application, but submitting it means reviewing everything one more time. Maybe you finished a project, but now you need to decide where the files belong. Maybe the task requires someone else’s response before you can close it. Maybe you have to switch away from what you’re currently doing to go finish something that no longer feels interesting.
And sometimes the last step is just boring.
There. I said it.
There is very little dopamine waiting for me at the end of put the folded towels in the linen closet.
Nobody applauds. There is no ceremony. The towels simply cease being on my bed.
Which, to be fair, is useful. But apparently not always compelling enough for my brain.
“I’ll Remember to Finish It” Is a Dangerous Game
This is where things get especially fun.
Because once I get something almost done, I’m very tempted to tell myself: “I’ll finish that later.”
Later is a magical place. I apparently have unlimited time there. I remember everything there. I am extremely motivated.
Future Jill is honestly incredible. Current Jill hands her things constantly.
The problem is that when I leave a task unfinished, I haven’t just delayed the final step. I’ve created another thing I have to remember.
Now my brain needs to keep track of the fact that the task exists, what remains to be done, when I need to do it, and whether there is a deadline attached.
That’s a lot of responsibility to assign to a brain that regularly walks into a room and forgets why it went there.
Almost Done Can Make a To-Do List Look Better Than It Feels
This is another sneaky part.
You can have a day where you accomplish a lot and still end it feeling like nothing is finished.
Maybe you worked on six different things. You made progress on all of them. Objectively, that was a productive day.
But if none of those six things actually crossed the finish line, your brain may still be carrying all six when you shut your laptop.
That’s a very different feeling from finishing three things completely.
I’ve had days where I’ve been busy from the moment I sat down until the moment I stopped, and somehow I still feel like I have twelve things hanging over me.
Because I do. They’re just all 80% done.
Progress matters. I’m not suggesting we only count something as worthwhile when it’s completely finished.
But there is a real mental relief that comes from being able to say: That is done. I don’t have to think about it anymore.
Sometimes closing one loop feels better than opening five more.
This Happens With Bigger Things Too
It’s easy to see this with emails and laundry, but it happens with much bigger things.
Paperwork. School assignments. Projects. Appointments. Household repairs. Applications. Financial decisions. Conversations we need to have.
Anything that stays unresolved can require some amount of mental tracking.
And sometimes we don’t realize how much we’re carrying until several of those unfinished things finally get resolved.
You submit the paperwork. Schedule the appointment. Have the conversation. Finish the project.
And suddenly there’s this little moment of: Ohhhhh.
I didn’t realize how much energy that was taking.
Not because you were actively thinking about it every second. Because your brain knew it wasn’t closed.
Sometimes “Finish One Thing” Is Better Than “Do More”
I am very capable of making a longer list. This is not a skill I need to develop further.
What I am trying to get better at is noticing when I have too many things sitting in the almost-done category.
Instead of asking: “What else can I get done today?” sometimes I need to ask: “What can I completely finish?”
Send the email. Submit the form. Schedule the appointment. Put the thing away. Do the final ten-minute step that means I no longer have to keep remembering the task exists.
It isn’t always the most important thing on my list. It isn’t always the most impressive. But sometimes closing one of those loops gives me more mental space to deal with everything else.
Get “Almost Done” Out of Your Head
Of course, not everything can be finished immediately.
Sometimes you’re waiting on someone. Sometimes the next step can’t happen until next week. Sometimes you genuinely don’t have the capacity to finish it today.
That’s fine.
But if something has to stay unfinished, I’ve learned that it needs somewhere to live besides my brain.
What is the actual next step? When do I need to come back to it? Am I waiting for someone? Do I need a reminder? Is there a deadline? Can I capture enough information that Future Jill doesn’t have to reconstruct the entire situation from scratch?
Because “remember to deal with that thing eventually” is not a system. It’s a threat.
This is one of the reasons we talk so much about capturing things at NeuroLocker.
The goal isn’t to create the world’s most beautiful task list. The goal is to give your brain permission to stop rehearsing information because it knows there’s somewhere reliable to come back to it.
Done Is a Surprisingly Powerful Word
I don’t think every task needs to be finished the minute we start it.
Life doesn’t work that way.
Sometimes progress really is the win.
But I do think we underestimate the mental weight of carrying too many things that are almost finished.
The email that needs one response. The package that needs to be returned. The form that needs one signature. The laundry that needs to be put away. The project that needs one final review.
None of them seems particularly significant.
Until there are fifteen of them.
Then suddenly your brain is running a small administrative department you never agreed to manage.
So if your head feels unusually full, maybe you don’t need to start something new. Look around for the things that are almost done. Pick one.
Finish the last annoying little step. Close the tab.
And enjoy the deeply disproportionate satisfaction of knowing you never have to think about that stupid thing again.
At least until the next load of laundry.
Talk soon,
Jill
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