the fixer

i moved to the apartment downstairs, much to the chagrin of my emergency fund.

come to think of it, a month before the christmas holiday is a bad timing to make decisions like moving a place or buying a house or getting rid of the old stuff and replace them with new ones… from the bed to the gas stove to the rugs and the mops and curtain rods.

i honestly do not know what is wrong with me.

every sound financial decision i make is countered by an impulse boredom retractor. it is almost as if i complicate everything just so i have something to concentrate on, something to worry about, something to fix.

something to fix. perhaps, that is why i can never function in a fully operating environment; it is so easy to find opportunities and challenges in chaos. or perhaps, the long years of always having something broken restricts me from realizing that it is actually alright if everything is smooth sailing.

what is it that i deeply fear? the realization that my significance is insignificant? or the realization that the moment i do not have anything to fix i would lose my sanity?

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