It’s time for my annual “What’s In / What’s Out” list — otherwise known as: a user manual for how I’m living this summer, until further notice.

Also just kidding, it’s not annual. I’ve never done one before. But the other day I realized I’d seen at least a dozen internet-things (spanning from articles to Instagram to TikTok) about what we all should or should not being doing. Apparently, gallery wall decorating is “out” and that sent me straight into outrage-land. Gallery walls, and more importantly, weird art, can never be out. Show me one minimalist beige influencer whose house wouldn’t be improved by a framed picture of a Victorian lady and her pet duck.

So, I decided to make my own list. And this list is for me. Not you. You can have your own list and do absolutely whatever you want. You can decorate your house in Chevron patterns that make my eyes cross, and I will applaud you. We get one life, one body, one family, maybe a couple of houses, and only a few summers. Make it count. So, here’s what’s in and out for me, this summer. Take what you want, leave what you don’t. Your mileage may vary. But please promise me that if you hang a picture of a woman and a duck, you’ll post it.

IN

• Inspecting my garden first thing every morning with a cup of coffee while wearing a mumu. 20 years ago I would have done the same thing while smoking a Marlboro Light, but not now because I choose life. Anyway, hot girl summer is now hot flash summer. I garden how I want.

• Reading books based on vibes, not virtue. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be re-reading Valley of the Dolls that was 50 cents at Goodwill. I will not be reading anything literary. I tried that and chose Rabbit, Run which is basically just 300 pages about a man having a midlife crisis in Pennsylvania. No can do. I want to be shocked by Jacqueline Susann or scared by Stephen King. This summer will not be a literary-growth phase.

• Texts responses are reserved for business hours only. If you text me before 7 a.m. or after 10 p.m., I assume it’s either an emergency or you’ve lost your mind.

• Saying “Let me think about that” instead of yes or no. The official fragrance of 2025 is called Buy Me Some Time and my brain needs more than 10 seconds to make a decision. Whether it’s a lunch invite or a heavy-duty-job decision, the neurological-synapse-turnaround-time in my noggin needs a buffer.
• Making weird little snack plates for dinner. Brie, pretzel chips, olives, one pickle, four grapes, three almonds. #chefskiss

• Recharging, even in a crowd. I am an introvert. I am never alone. This past weekend I told my family to stay out of the kitchen for one hour. I said, “I’m going to make meatloaf, so pretend I’m a ghost and do not perceive me.” I cooked meatloaf and listened to Sierra Farrell and did not speak for a solid hour and I felt reborn.

OUT

• Organizing books by color. I will never remember that the book I’m trying to find has a red spine, but I will be able to find it if I’ve organized by genre, as god intended.  #tellmeyoudontreadalotwithouttellingmeyoudontreadalot

• Five-step skincare routines. If moisturizer, SPF, and a pair of tweezers don’t cover it, it doesn’t need to be covered. I earned this face. I’m a human with pores, not a glazed donut.

• Forced gratitude. Sometimes life is weird, unfair, and messy. I can be grateful and mildly annoyed at the same time. Yes, I adore my children. I am endlessly grateful for them. But if one more person leaves a single square of toilet paper on the roll like it’s a decorative art installation, I might lose it.

• Apologizing for ghosting group texts. Sometimes I read a message, think “huh,” and then walk directly into the sea. Just kidding. But when you have ADHD you can only be on the receiving end of so much communication, and sometimes the meme-exchanges don’t hold the same urgency as feeding the dog, renewing a prescription, or remembering to say something kind to my husband that doesn’t sound like “why does the trash smell?”

• “Beach body” talk. If you have a body and you’re at the beach, you’ve solved the puzzle. Congratuations.

That’s my highly scientific, deeply researched list. I hope you still do whatever makes you happiest this summer, whether that’s gallery walls, chevron, snack plates, glazed-donut skin, or not. Just remember: one life, a few summers. I hope you make yours exactly what you want it to be.