More Sh*t I Need to Learn in 2026

January 8, 2026

Nothing like taking stock of a year well lived to uncover what else would help my life! So here are this week’s ideas for a quality of life upgrade. Free for the taking. 

Goals for 2026 - Part Deux. 

They are modest. They are practical. They are overdue.

1. Learn Not to Catastrophize

Catastrophizing is my brain’s favorite workout. It’s also highly, highly immature of me. According to a study done by the University of Michigan, 73% of people ages 25-35 “overthink,” which is just catastrophizing-light. But only 52% of those 45-55 do this and a mere 20% of older adults 65-75 engage in worst case scenario preoccupation. If I don’t want to end up in that 20%, I need to get on this STAT! No more assuming I’ve offended someone if they don’t get back to me in 18 hours. No more wondering if Pepe, our family dog, is preparing to die because he is desperate to sleep in a hole he dug in the backyard.

No surprise, I don’t just casually imagine worst-case scenarios. I commit to them. I furnish these one room barracks. I move in, I start unpacking.

In 2026, I want to learn how to interrupt the reflex that does this. I need to stop drafting the documentary called How Everything Fell Apart daily. It’s exhausting. Unlike my peers from whom I constantly hear the phrase, I have no f*cks left to give.” I have them. I’m just very tired of paying attention to them. 

This doesn’t mean pretending bad things don’t happen. I have receipts. I know they do. But it does mean learning to pause before my thoughts sprint ahead like they’re being chased by Wile E. Coyote.

I’m practicing asking myself questions like:

  • “Do I actually know this is true?”
  • “Is this happening right now, or am I just a creative genius?”
  • “What if, stay with me for this absurdity, this turns out fine?”

I’m not talking about “toxic positivity.” I’m talking about fewer internal emergency meetings over things that haven’t happened yet.

2. Drink More Water (Yes, This Is Apparently Still a Goal)

I wish I could say this was a metaphor. It is not.

I will strain my brain trying to figure out how to get an Excel doc to calculate something, listen with wide eyes to a myriad of people’s problems, powering through entire days fueled by coffee and David Bars, and then wonder why I feel like I need to lie down STAT.

So in 2026, I am committing to drinking more water if the boredom of it kills me. Which it won’t because I’ll be so hydrated. 

Water is not fun. Drinking it does not come with applause. But it does prevent headaches, brain fog, and that weird feeling where it feels like your joints are talking to you in a panic, Hello? Are we being abandoned?

Drinking water is the smallest possible way to acknowledge, “I am a person who requires maintenance.” That’s not entirely true. Breathing is the smallest way. Deep breaths and water. Nothing extravagant, just simple conscious breathing and conscious hydration. Easy peasy. Full disclosure, consistency is one of my personal challenges. Drinking water regularly will be my first big leap into addressing this. 

Also, every time I drink a glass of water, I am better than my former self, with whom, like most people, I am very competitive.

3. Make Friends with AI

I did not greet AI with open arms. I greeted it with suspicion, slight panic, and a lot of questions that began with, “But what about human connection?”

And then I realized something. Resisting AI was taking way more energy than learning how to use it.

So in 2026, I am making friends with AI. Not best friends. Not “tell it my secrets” friends. Yet. More like the smart coworker who never tires and is almost disturbingly good at organizing thoughts. 

AI is not going to replace creativity, a sense of humor, or human connection. If anything, it highlights how irreplaceably odd and emotional humans are. AI can help with drafts, ideas, and logistics—but it can’t replicate lived experience, intuition, or that very specific feeling of laughing at the wrong moment.

I don’t want to be the person yelling at the future from the porch. I want to be the person who learned the tool and kept her soul.

The Resolution Beneath the Resolutions

What these three goals have in common is simple: they make life lighter. Thank god I’m staying on message! Levity for the win through:

Less panic.
More hydration.
Fewer unnecessary struggles with the new normal.

If I can do these things imperfectly but, dare I commit to it, consistently, 2026 doesn’t need to be the greatest year I’ve ever had in my lifetime. But there’s hope that it can be calmer, clearer and better hydrated.