Errands seem like they should be easy.
Everyone else treats them like a normal part of life. Groceries, post office, pharmacy, done. But for ADHD brains, errands can feel like a full-body boss battle.
You’re juggling mental checklists, time blindness, overstimulation in public spaces, parking anxiety, forgetting the ONE THING you actually went for, and trying not to impulse-buy seven weird snacks and a throw pillow. (Is that just me?)
You feel like this because you’re trying to do errands with ADHD.
For years, even one errand could derail my entire day. I’d spend the day of, and even the day before, dreading the errand.
My stomach would be in knots, obsessed over the details of doing mundane things like saying my name or remembering where I parked.
Then, once it was finally done, I’d come home mentally fried, with nothing left in the tank for anything else.
This whole ordeal made me feel like I was just bad at “being an adult.”
But I’ve learned some small, sneaky strategies that help me get through errands without the meltdowns or mental crashes. Here’s how I do errands with ADHD.
The first step to doing errands with ADHD is to figure out what you’re even doing in the first place. A “master errands list” helps you to accomplish this.
This isn’t your weekly to-do list. It’s your always-there, reusable brain backup.
Every time I realize I’m out of something or remember a task (returning that Amazon package that’s been in my trunk since July?), I throw it in my Notes app.
I break it down by location:
That way, when it’s time to run errands, I’m not staring at a blank screen wondering, “What am I forgetting?”
One time, I went to the grocery store three days in a row because I kept forgetting one crucial thing. If I’d just had my master list, I could’ve spared myself the parking lot rage and general frustration.
If you also struggle to keep track of groceries, this ADHD shopping list method changed everything.
Errands feel less daunting when they’re part of a routine my brain already expects.
For example, I do groceries right after therapy. My brain’s already out of the house, I’ve got emotional momentum (or emotional leftovers?), and it feels like less of a gear shift.
Why it works: Starting is often the hardest part for ADHD brains. If you can hitch the errand to a habit you already have, you’re more likely to follow through.
Trust me, this works. I used to cancel errands constantly. Once I started pairing them with things I already had to do (commuting to work, appointments, etc.), I actually started following through without melting down.
I used to plan marathon errand days with six stops, thinking I’d be so productive. In actuality, I’d get through two, hit a wall, and go home defeated with a slice of cake and a headache.
Now, I cap it at three. Maximum.
If I have more than three errands, I either:
Why this is effective: It saves energy and cuts the shame spiral when you inevitably hit a wall.
I once hit four stores in one trip and ended up tearing up (I didn’t let the tears fall) in the car outside the pharmacy. Three is the magic number.
RELATED: ADHD Shopping List: How to Build One You’ll Actually Use
Sneak up on me at any given time, and I have earphones in or headphones on. This is especially handy when I’m doing something I don’t want to do.
Errands are boring. Boring equals low dopamine, which results in major avoidance.
My workaround? I use audio body doubling:
My brain needs something interesting to hang onto while I’m hunting down the right kind of almond milk.
Listening to a murder podcast while walking the aisles of Trader Joe’s might be sorta weird, but it keeps me focused and moving.
Am I the only one who really dislikes fluorescent lights, loud carts, screaming children, cold freezer aisles, etc.?
Errands are sensory obstacle courses, so to make these conditions as pleasant as possible, I prepare.
My prep list includes:
Why this helps: It pre-buffers your system so you’re not on edge before you even get to aisle five.
I’m not too proud to admit that I’ve left stores several times because I was hangry and irritated (my waistband was digging into my soul, okay?!) Now I don’t leave the house without a granola bar and stretchy pants.
I am the queen of doing errands super early in the morning or relatively late at night. This way, I can complete my errands in peace and with as little human interaction as possible.
I avoid stores between 11 a.m. and 6 p.m. like the plague. If I’m feeling extra fancy and my schedule allows, I go mid-afternoon on weekdays.
Quieter stores equal less chaos, which results in less executive dysfunction.
I accidentally went to Costco at noon on a Saturday once. It took me three business days to recover emotionally.
RELATED: The ADHD Subscription Trap (Why We Forget to Cancel)
One of my biggest annoyances is getting somewhere and realizing that I don’t have something that I need.
I’ve driven 15 minutes to the post office only to realize the package was still on my kitchen table.
After experiencing this one too many times, I have a checklist I run every time I leave:
I tailor it to whatever my errands consist of that day, and it really does help.
It feels silly, but it saves me from the panicked “I forgot my return receipt” moment.
ADHD spirals start when tasks don’t end.
You can find yourself wandering around a store for way longer than you intended because you didn’t plan the ending.
The day I went into the store for toothpaste and left with $87 worth of fall decor, I knew it was time to set some parameters.
So I pick my goal before I leave:
Why it works: Boundaries protect your bandwidth when you’re doing errands with ADHD.
I walk into stores with a plan, and I stick to the plan.
ADHD novelty-seeking is real, and it will trap you in the candle aisle for 20 minutes. I have the wasted time and credit card bills to show for it.
I once bought a disco ball planter on a whim because it was shiny and on clearance. Cute? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely not.
My brain wants to wander. I gently tell it: “Not today.”
If you know, you know, but the errand isn’t over when you get home. It’s over when the bags are unpacked.
One time, I left canned beans in a bag for so long that they became a science experiment. Never again
So, I set a timer for five minutes now. I put away:
If you’ve completed an errand that doesn’t have physical items to put away, you can still unload. Whether you need to sit down and rest, take a nap, write down things to remember, or do anything else that could be helpful after errands, feel free to do whatever feels right.
ADHD brains crave dopamine. So, after actually completing what I said I would, I give myself a reward:
Even basic errands deserve a gold star. Finishing *one* errand totally counts as a mini win.
I swear by this, and I once treated myself to a cookie after surviving the DMV. It tasted like triumph.
Errands aren’t just errands when you live with ADHD. They’re multi-layered, sensory, logistical puzzles that drain energy like a phone on 3%.
But when you prep well, pair them with familiar routines, protect your senses, and celebrate the little wins, they get more manageable. Some days, errands with ADHD can even be easy.
If errands melt your brain too, you’re not alone. These ADHD overwhelm tools help refill your tank.
And if all you did today was pick up toilet paper and survive the checkout line? That totally counts. Then go light a candle, eat your cookie, and call it victory.

ADHD-friendly hacks for surviving the checkout line.
Roxy is the creator of The Everyday Flourish, a relatable personal growth blog for women who are tired of burnout, chaos, and hustle culture.
A recovering overthinker and unofficial life guinea pig, she shares honest self-care strategies, ADHD-friendly productivity tips, and mindset shifts that actually feel doable.
Around here, personal growth comes with grace, not pressure - and a lot fewer to-do lists.