I start my day by hiding protein powder in black coffee.

Not because I’m a fitness influencer.

Because I don’t trust my body anymore.

The coffee is laced with collagen because apparently I’m at the age where joints have opinions, skin has demands, and if I don’t sneak nutrients into my morning routine, my knees will file a formal complaint by noon.

I am old enough to want to hang out with my twenty-something daughters…

And young enough to think I still could.

But also tired enough that by 9 p.m. I want a puzzle, soft pajamas, and silence that feels earned.

This is the contradiction I live in.

I am the kind of woman who can:

• Fix her computer when the internet stops working

• Diagnose a DNS issue like I’ve done it professionally

• Repair appliances

• Replumb parts of a house

• Solve complex problems the moment I find the right “for dummies” book

Give me instructions once and my brain goes, Oh. I see the whole system now.

Thank you, ADHD.

But then there are the simple things.

The things that should require no instructions at all.

Like boxed mac & cheese.

Somehow, I will overthink it.

I will question the butter ratio.

I will improvise.

I will ruin it.

I have:

• Set my hair on fire

• Glued my hand to my head

• Turned “this should take five minutes” into a small emergency

And yet, I can do overly complicated things with terrifying confidence.

I don’t need intuition, I need a map.

Once I have it, I can build, fix, troubleshoot, and solve just about anything.

But ask me to do something “easy,” and I will absolutely make it harder than necessary.

This is the oxymoron I am.

Capable.

Resourceful.

Exhausting.

I can take on anything  as long as someone, somewhere, once wrote it down in a way my brain understands.

And honestly? I kind of love that about myself.

Because it means I’m not helpless  I’m just wired differently.

It means competence doesn’t always look graceful.

And it means my confidence comes with a side of chaos and a very specific need for instructions.

So yes, I hide protein powder in my coffee.

Yes, I fix my own internet.

Yes, I ruin boxed mac & cheese.

And no  this blog isn’t about my kids today.

Sometimes it’s just about me.

And the beautiful, ridiculous contradiction that keeps this whole thing running