I overbooked myself this month
Not accidentally. Not because someone forced me to. Not because I don’t know better. But because it was January last month.
And January does weird things to high-functioning women.
Beginning-of-the-year slowness hit. Revenue felt quieter. The natural winter pause started whispering, “You could do more.” And instead of just sitting in that discomfort like the emotionally regulated adult I try to be… I responded. I applied to part-time jobs. And I got one. It’s funny how quickly “I’ll just explore this” turns into onboarding paperwork. January Reagen was looking for stability.
On the other hand, February Reagen is looking at her calendar like… interesting choice.
My new job started this month. It requires me to be in person once a week which is mildly comical considering I haven’t worked in an office in five years. Five. Years. I’ve built my life and business around autonomy and flexibility, and suddenly I’m picking out real outfits again.
At the same time, another job moved from full-time to part-time, just for right now. We made the strategic decision to pause and fully restructure the business instead of forcing momentum that wasn’t there. Which is the right call. The mature call. The long-game call. And we have SO many good things in the works that we are already seeing positive results. But restructuring a business isn’t exactly “light work.”
On top of work life I had three vacations that were booked before any of this (poor me), I’m training for a half marathon, I had a guest coming to visit, and my ongoing commitment to being a reliable villager in my community, and the cherry on top: my cat has a non-emergent medical issue that is just flat out ANNOYING and taking the better half of a month to get better. It’s never just one thing. It’s always the tiny, unglamorous things that tip the scale. The extra vet call. The extra errand. The extra mental tab open in your brain. The definition of high-functioning overwhelm.
Here’s the part that matters: Nothing on my calendar is bad. Nothing is toxic. Nothing is misaligned. It’s just… a lot.
High-functioning overwhelm rarely comes from chaos. It comes from stacking too many good things at once. Opportunity, responsibility, health goals, relationships, growth, income, restructuring, momentum. All reasonable. All justifiable. All technically “manageable.” Until your nervous system says, “Hey! This is a lot.” (Why did I do this to myself?)
If I’m being honest, part of it was security. When business slows at the beginning of the year, even if you know it’s seasonal, even if you teach clients not to panic, your brain still wants to create certainty. A part-time job feels like certainty. More structure feels like certainty. Filling space feels like control. And high-functioning business people love control.
I also underestimated the transition cost. Going back into an office environment, even for one day a week, isn’t just a schedule shift. It’s a mental shift. It’s social energy. It’s wardrobe energy. It’s commute energy. It’s context-switching energy. All of that matters.
What is all of this teaching me? Capacity is not just about hours. Transitions require margin. Even strong people need a buffer. I didn’t burn everything down. I’m not in a crisis. But I can feel the tightness. The reduced white space. The shorter fuse. The “just get through this week” energy creeping in.
And that’s my cue, not to panic or quit everything or freak out. But to recalibrate.
Here’s what I’m actively doing:
Protecting my scheduled recovery days after high-output weeks. Lowering the bar on non-essential perfection (harder said than done.)
Being honest with clients about timelines when needed.
Being honest with my village about if I am available for their needs, as well as allowing them to help me in my crazy moment as well.
Letting some social expectations soften.
Remembering that training for a half marathon is optional suffering so I don’t need to create additional emotional suffering on top of it. (again, WHY AM I RUNNING!)
Most importantly? I’m reminding myself that being reliable does not mean being endlessly available.
Notice what I’m not doing: I’m not quitting everything, I’m not spiraling, I’m not pretending I can out-discipline biology.
Instead, I’m adjusting before resentment sets in. Competent women don’t usually crumble dramatically. We tighten. We push. We handle. We make it work. Until one day we realize we’ve been white-knuckling “fine.” I don’t want to live in white-knuckled fine state. I’ve organized my whole life so I never have to white-knuckle it.
So this month isn’t a failure. It’s data.
It’s showing me where I still default to stacking instead of spacing. Where I respond to uncertainty with action instead of patience. Where I forget that winter is allowed to be winter. Even for me.
If you’re reading this and your calendar feels tight … If you said yes to too many good things…If you’re restructuring, pivoting, training, traveling, showing up, and still trying to be the dependable one…You’re not weak.
You’re capable. But capable people still need margin. And sometimes the most high-functioning thing you can do…is admit you overbooked yourself and adjust before your body forces you to. March is almost here.
And instead of asking, “What more can I add?” I’m asking, “Where can I give myself space?”