3 experiments for 2025

In an effort to make less garbage, I'm gonna gamify my life.

In 2020 I challenged myself to buy no new clothes. I succeeded, but mostly by transferring the source of my dopamine hit from one method of shopping to another. I went from shopping in person and online to shopping only secondhand and online: primarily on Poshmark and ThredUp. (Also, I said 2020. There wasn’t much shopping going on in person).

Recently, I had an experience that led to an epiphany, if you will. The experience is so mundane, it’s a tragedy that I’m writing it down, but I want to illustrate the point authentically. So, I will tell you.

I needed some new bacitracin — it’s the ointment I always turn to when my earlobes react to shitty earrings. The tube I had in my medicine cabinet was expired and liquidy in a bad way, so a new batch was in order. I just about bought it on Amazon with a single click, but then I told myself to wait — why not just get it at the grocery store? I was going the next day.

When I browsed the first aid aisle, there was no bacitracin in stock (!!). Just my luck, harumph, etc. But right next to the empty slot was some other similar-seeming products, as well as neosporin. I whipped out my phone and googled the products, and also looked up “bacitracin alternatives.” Would you believe that neosporin was the first result? I knew we had neosporin at home. And so, I didn’t need to buy anything new.

This ~crazy~ lightbulb moment kept me from using Amazon and also prevented me from buying a duplicate product. It’s actually quite nuts to unpack, because I see how my thinking processes have been rewired by Amazon and convenience culture. Maybe even a few years ago, I might’ve googled “bacitracin alternatives” as my first step. But my first instinct in this instance (and surely many more of which I’m probably unaware) was to buy something new with the click of a button.

There are so many benefits to “convenience culture” and in many cases, for lots of people, it’s the right pick. But for me in this specific instance, my penchant for convenience led me down a wasteful path.

This all got me thinking: I’d like to experiment with being more mindful about what I need and what I could do without, especially when it comes to Amazon and the ease of 1-click purchases.

So, I’m going to see how long I can go without using Amazon in 2025. Maybe this is an astonishing act to you, or maybe you’re rolling your eyes. I started relying on Amazon as a crutch after having kids. Formula, diapers, wipes, something to entertain them on long car rides — the ability to have these non-negotiables delivered to my apartment when I was drowning in babies was incredibly helpful. And it widened my access to convenience: Beyond the baby essentials, I could get presents, sesame seeds, dried kale flakes (have you tried these? I’m so into them), shelf-stable tofu, protein powder, moisturizer, a tiny/adorable whisk, winter socks — you get the gist — delivered with the click of a button.

Would the world have kept turning if I wasn’t able to get my hands on these items? Indeed.

2025 experiments

I am SOMETIMES motivated by gamification when I get into a rhythm. Love seeing a 34 week streak on my Peloton app, for example (💪🍑) . Don’t really care how many days in a row I’ve done Wordle, however. So I’m going to apply the trick to goals I might’ve otherwise dubbed as resolutions, since resolutions have been proven unachievable for as long as we’ve tried them.

Experiment 1: Set a PR for days without Amazon

I don’t anticipate I’ll go 365 days without Amazon, but I want to explore what comes up as I try to go on a streak of some kind. I will report back what I notice. Jan 1 = Day 1.

Experiment 2: Cut down mindless scrolling

I’ve read a LOT of pieces on Substack that share a similar sentiment: I want to get offline (primarily social media, we’re talking), but it’s really hard.

Reading these stories (sharing some faves below) — and getting to understand various perspectives and experiments around the practice of living less online — has made me feel hopeful, less alone, and also a little depressed (this is no “how did we get here?” scenario. How we became addicted to our digital lives is really quite simple to trace.)

Living more life offline seems both like a fantastical luxury and a critical survival skill.

I don’t want to get into sentimental territory, so I will just say it briefly: We probably only get one life to live, so maybe I don’t need to watch every single person’s curly hair routine on Instagram.

More time offline means more time in person. The conversion isn’t 1:1, but it’s something.

This experiment will be more difficult to quantify than experiment no. 1. The daily screen time report isn’t necessarily the arbiter of truth, but it’s probably a good place to start.

Last weekend I didn’t look at my phone from 4 p.m. to 11 p.m. — I picked up my kids from daycare and then had some friends over for latkes. The half-day digital detox wasn’t intentional, but damn did it feel good.

I think in order to combat mindless scrolling, it’s valuable to replace the time with something else. I’m not always going to grate potatoes instead of look at TikTok, but it’s worth seeing what else I can do with my hands to keep my screen away.

Any suggestions? Knitting and similar crafts are not on the table for me.

I think forgoing Amazon will actually help bolster this experiment. I bought diapers in a real, actual store the other day, and in the baby aisle I met a new mom of twins. It felt quite special to be able to talk with her, assure her that she’ll be OK and wish her well. I deeply miss interacting with strangers — it’s something that has been absent from my life since the pandemic. Buying diapers IRL may be the first step to regaining this little life joy.

Some reads that inspired:

• “The utopia of a life offline” by

  Florencia Ornelas

• “Is scrolling the new comfort food?” by

  Break Free From the Internet

• “18 things I give zero fucks about since becoming a mom...” by

  Platonic Love

• “Posting less” by

  Anne Helen Petersen

Experiment 3: See how long I can go without buying *new* plastic toys for my tots

I’ve mentioned before how wonderful the resale/buy nothing communities can be when it comes to kids’ stuff. Parents cycle in new shit SO often, and we want to cycle out stuff at the same pace, but it’s tough. A circular economy around toys and playthings seems feasible, actually, and there are so many people willing to give and take.

I’ll take note of how this experiment goes, and I’m eager to watch it unfold for myself. Anyone know of a good app that could help track this goal, as well as the others I’ve listed (using technology for good here).

Would you be interested in a 2025 experiments check-in of some kind? Let me know in the comments. Is it embarrassing to write a resolution-type post at this point of my life? Also let me know in the comments.

byeee

Yo! Thanks so much for reading all the way down here! If you enjoyed this read, please like and/or leave a comment, which can help this publication grow. If you are reading this as an email, click the heart button at the top or bottom of this email: You’ll be directed to the Substack website where you can also leave a comment. If you are reading it online, just click the heart button at the top or bottom of this post. I’d truly love to hear from you. Thank you!