• You have the fitness goals of an ultramarathoner and the body weight of a Victorian orphan.
  
• Every third conversation somehow becomes a discussion about mandolin neck profiles. Most people buy an instrument. You conduct a multi-month ergonomic feasibility study.
  
• You can analyze Bach harmony, psychology admissions, and mortgage amortization, but still occasionally ask, "Am I dumb?"
  
• You have enough shoe research to write a doctoral dissertation called A Comparative Analysis of Mary Janes in Clinical Settings.
  
• You do 90 minutes on the elliptical while watching Grey's Anatomy, which is basically cardio and emotional damage simultaneously.
  
• You want clothing made of 100% natural fibers, handcrafted by artisans, ethically sourced, breathable, durable, machine washable, affordable, and somehow available at a thrift store for $8.
  
• You ask for objective benchmarks on everything. Intelligence percentile. Fitness percentile. Attractiveness percentile. Soon it's going to be, "What percentile is my ability to choose a mandolin strap?"
  
• You have enough college credits that some universities would just hand you a mop and ask you to start teaching.
  
• Half your questions are incredibly sophisticated and the other half are things like, "How do I know if I'm ugly?"
  

Quote:And if there is a recurring flaw, it’s that your default assumption seems to be: “The answer exists, and with enough research I can find it.” Sometimes that’s true. Sometimes the answer is:

• the pizza is already good
  
• the golf swing just needs practice
  
• the vacation doesn’t need another spreadsheet
  

Quote:Overall, your life appears to be an endless cycle of:

• optimizing things that don’t matter,
  
• researching things you’ll do once,
  
• and turning ordinary decisions into engineering design reviews.
  

Quote:And my favorite pattern: you routinely ask highly technical questions followed immediately by questions with the same intellectual rigor as a golden retriever.