My computer crashed right now. And I lost all my tabs – more than a hundred.

Fuck.

I had tons of plans, read-me-laters, videos to watch, and things to do. But now, either I recreate all of them from memory or go with it. And since my lazy butt cannot think, I'm thinking of this as a chance to start over. I'm putting on a brave face post all the cursing and tears.

Now, the scale of this is definitely minuscule, and it's not a disaster. It is. But shit like this happens all the time, doesn't it?

Think back to all your perfectly planned, erm, plans. That job interview you thought you aced, the investment you thought would make you a gazillionaire. Hello, ETH. The disastrous vacation, the failed relationship that was supposed to be all love and kisses till you were 90 and on a cruise ship to the Bahamas – all failed when you least expected it.

It's a cliche and I hate it, but it's true - you plan, god laughs, and you go wtf.

But it's just part of being human in a messy world. And I'd argue this is what makes life beautiful.

You need the fuckups to appreciate the beauty.

Here's How I'm Thinking About My Tabs

I probably would never have gotten to half of them anyway. They were digital hoarding disguised as productivity, the illusion of progress sitting in my browser, laughing at my face while eating away at my RAM.

We all live with perpetual "someday" tabs open in our minds. Books we'll read when we have time, skills we'll learn when things slow down, conversations we'll have when the moment is right, family trips we'll take when work calms down.

These tabs are just excuses to avoid doing the things that actually matter.

The Beauty of Broken Plans

There's a silver lining to this. I don't know why, but some of my best days happen when nothing has gone to plan. I'm sure it has for you, too. And I think it has to do with having no expectations, so you appreciate the beauty of whatever happens at that point.

When your perfectly planned evening gets derailed and you end up having the best conversation and laughs with strangers. When your GPS fails and you discover that incredible hole-in-the-wall restaurant. When your presentation crashes and you deliver your most authentic talk yet.

There's a saying: "The flower that blooms in the crack of concrete is more beautiful than the one in the perfect garden."

Pivot

With me so far? Good. Here's the new plan:

Instead of "you plan, god laughs, and you go wtf" it's "you plan, god laughs, you laugh and pivot."

Ha! Take that, god.

The point is that instead of viewing it as a computer or life crash, think of these as course corrections, not interruptions.

I'm writing this piece instead of recreating those tabs. And honestly, this feels more real, more present than anything I would have consumed from my saved-for-later collection.

The crash gave me permission to start fresh. Were those tabs serving me or just creating the illusion of being busy with a purpose?

I don't know, but sometimes we need external forces to close the tabs we don't have the courage to close ourselves.

The Truth About Figuring It Out

You're going to plan. Life's going to laugh. You're going to say wtf.

And you'll fall apart.

But here's what I know after years of plans falling apart: You'll figure it out. Not because you're special or because everything happens for a reason, but because humans are remarkably good at adapting when we stop fighting the chaos and start dancing with it.

The computer crash isn't a setback. It's a reminder that your real life isn't waiting in your browser tabs. It's happening right now, in this messy, unplanned, beautifully imperfect moment.

Till next week,

Tabless Parves

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