Discover the hidden weight of “life admin” from Elizabeth Emens’ book Life Admin. Learn why everyday tasks matter, how admin identities shape us, and how naming them can lighten the load.
Life Admin: The Homework of Everyday Living
There’s a phrase Elizabeth Emens uses in her book Life Admin that immediately stuck with me: she calls it “the office-work—or homework—of life.”
Ugh. That’s exactly what it feels like. All the tasks that aren’t our jobs or our joys but still demand our time: paying bills, scheduling appointments, managing paperwork, organizing schedules, following up on emails, filling out forms. They are invisible and unending, and rarely do they bring a sense of cheer.
Yet when left undone, they pile up and become even heavier. And when done, they don’t just check a box—they act as the support of life itself. The bills get paid, the lights stay on, the appointment gets kept, the medicine is picked up. For those of us who are “neuro-spicy,” like living with ADHD, life admin can be both more challenging and more essential. Without it, things quickly fall apart.
The Hidden Weight of Admin
What struck me most in Emens’ book is how invisible this work often is. It doesn’t count as a hobby, an accomplishment, or even “real work.” But the cognitive load is enormous.
There’s the stress of not doing it, the shame of falling behind, the guilt of not doing it well. Even when you’re not sitting at the desk with the paperwork, the to-do list lingers in your mind, tapping your shoulder: “Don’t forget me.” That quiet mental hum drains energy and focus in ways that are hard to measure but easy to feel.
Admin Identities
Emens describes several different “admin personalities”:
- Super Doer – thrives on getting things done.
- Reluctant Doer – handles tasks but resents them.
- Avoider – lets things slide.
- Denier – acts like admin doesn’t exist.
- Overthinker – spends too long researching or perfecting.
If I’m honest, I don’t see myself as a Super Doer—though I’ve had moments. More often, I find myself as a Reluctant Doer, sometimes an Avoider, and often an Overthinker.
My pattern? Buying planners and notebooks, setting up a system, then abandoning it, only to repurchase a new one later in hopes that this will finally make it click. It hasn’t, of course—but I know I’m not the only one who’s fallen into that cycle.
Naming these tendencies actually brings relief. It helps me see patterns without shame and recognize I’m not alone.
Privilege, Outsourcing & Agency
Another point Emens raises is the role of privilege. Outsourcing life admin—whether to a partner, an assistant, or a service—is a luxury not everyone can afford. I don’t have the privilege to outsource, and while the idea sounds delightful, I was struck by something I came across in related reading: a man who declined to outsource his admin because, as he put it, life admin requires decisions. Even if someone else fills in the form or makes the call, the responsibility of choice still rests with you.
That idea connects with another reflection I had while reading. Outsourcing can lighten the load, but it also raises the question of agency. How much of our independence, our autonomy, even our free thinking, do we want to surrender when we hand over our admin? Life admin shapes the choices we make—outsourcing it doesn’t erase that, and sometimes, holding on to certain tasks preserves not just control but also clarity.
The “What If I Died?” Question
One of the most powerful takeaways for me was Emens’ reflection on the question, “What if I died?”
She describes how she began to think of admin not just as a burden for the present, but as a gift to those who remain. What would need to be in place for my family, my home, my work, if I suddenly wasn’t here?
That thought has stayed with me. It reframes life admin as having social value—an act of care for others, not just tedious tasks for myself. It also planted the seed for me to begin creating a Legacy Book—a binder with essential information, records, and instructions—so that if the time ever came, my loved ones wouldn’t be left with chaos.
Living with Life Admin
Reading Life Admin has given me language for something I’ve always felt but never named. The invisible weight of the “homework of life” is real. It’s stressful, unending, and often thankless. But naming it helps. And seeing myself within its patterns—Reluctant Doer, Avoider, Overthinker—helps too.
Life admin isn’t going away. But perhaps, with more awareness and gentler expectations, we can learn to carry it differently. To see it not as proof of inadequacy but as part of the hidden work that supports life, and sometimes, the work that helps us care for others long after we’re gone.
💭 Reflection Question
Which admin personality do you see in yourself most often—and how might naming it help you approach your tasks with more understanding and less shame?
– Laura