I Don't Know What's Next, and That's Fine

It's been about five months since I last posted anything here.

I wish I could say I've been busy traveling the world, discovering myself, or finally becoming the kind of adult who folds laundry immediately after it comes out of the dryer.

Instead, I've mostly been working.

A lot.

The biggest change this year has been at work. Not because my responsibilities suddenly changed, but because the work I've been doing for years is finally becoming visible.

For a long time, I felt like I was constantly pointing out inefficiencies, gaps, and problems that nobody else seemed particularly concerned about. Then leadership changes happened, and I suddenly found myself in a position where I could start digging into how things actually operated.

As it turns out, I wasn't imagining things.

There were very few processes. Very few documented procedures. A lot of institutional knowledge lived inside people's heads. Many efforts were focused on visibility rather than measurable results.

That's probably the biggest lesson I've learned this year.

Visibility and effectiveness are not the same thing.

Anyone can point to a social media post with a lot of likes. It's much harder to answer whether that post actually helped someone find a service, schedule an appointment, or solve a problem.

The strange thing is that discovering all of this has been both validating and frustrating.

Validating because it confirmed many of the concerns I've had for years.

Frustrating because now I have to help fix it.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy solving problems. If anything, I've probably thrown myself into it more than I should have. I've spent much of this year creating systems, documenting processes, and trying to eliminate dependencies so things can continue functioning regardless of who is in a particular role.

The funny thing is that while I've spent years wondering whether I was capable of handling bigger responsibilities, I've spent almost no time thinking about titles.

I still don't have the title some people think I should have.

At the same time, I've realized that the title isn't the part I care about. What I care about is having the support and authority to improve things. The title simply comes with automatic credibility that makes some conversations easier.

Beyond work, life has been surprisingly uneventful.

For a brief period between late 2025 and my birthday, I somehow ended up with a small roster of guys I was seeing. Nothing serious. No dramatic love story. No reality TV-worthy plot twists.

Then, almost immediately after my birthday, they all disappeared.

One started dating someone else.

One slowly stopped responding.

One vanished completely.

Honestly, I wasn't heartbroken.

What struck me was how oddly synchronized the whole thing was.

It felt less like a breakup and more like a system outage.

These days, my attitude toward dating remains pretty much the same as it has been since my last serious relationship ended in 2022: if something happens, great. If not, that's fine too.

I don't spend much energy worrying about it.

The bigger thing occupying my brain lately is housing.

Not because I've suddenly decided to become a homeowner, but because I've reached the stage of adulthood where sharing a bathroom with roommates has started to feel less charming and more annoying.

I'm not actively apartment hunting.

I'm not actively house hunting.

I'm definitely actively browsing Zillow.

As for finances, I'm doing what most people seem to be doing these days: trying to keep up.

One unexpected hobby has been selling things from my collection.

I found a bunch of old toys, dolls, and collectibles and started listing them online.

The Barbie dolls from the 90s and early 2000s have actually sold surprisingly well.

The Ken dolls are a different story.

There is clearly demand for them. People want them. They just don't necessarily want to pay what they're worth.

Honestly, that's probably true for a lot of things.

Mostly, though, the selling isn't about nostalgia.

It's about reducing clutter and making a little extra money in the process.

Which brings me to the question people keep asking me:

What's next?

The honest answer is that I don't know.

For years, the answer was always another project, another goal, another career move, another thing to accomplish.

Right now, I'm less certain.

Maybe it's a new job.

Maybe it's a new apartment.

Maybe it's a house.

Maybe it's something I haven't considered yet.

For the moment, I've been focused on improving the things directly in front of me and seeing where that leads.

That's probably not a very exciting answer.

But it's the truth.

And after spending the last several months uncovering problems, fixing systems, selling Ken dolls, and wondering why every guy disappeared at the same time, I've become surprisingly comfortable with not having a five-year plan.

For now, that's enough.