You know that feeling when you just… refuse to look? Like, you see a tiny discoloration on the ceiling, probably from a slow drip, and your brain just goes NOPE. Not today, Satan. And you’re knee-deep in toddler-induced chaos, wiping snot, dealing with a partner’s existential crisis—so you just don’t. You ignore it. For weeks. Now it’s not a stain, it’s a crater. A literal, gaping, EXPENSIVE hole where the ceiling used to be, and all I can think is, what the hell is wrong with me? Why do I do this? It’s not even denial, it’s… willful blindness, a complete failure of executive function, and now my house is falling apart because I just couldn’t. And it’s not even the money—it’s the sheer stupidity of it all. God.