A Chronicle of an Overthinker: The World's Most Exhausted Superhero

If overthinking were a superpower, I wouldn’t just be a superhero—I’d be the undisputed leader of the Avengers. I wasn't bitten by a radioactive spider or a genetically modified chimpanzee. No, this absolute curse is generational wealth, passed down directly from my ancestors. 

Chapter 1: The Origin   

It all started in school with multiple-choice questions in exams. I hated them. Other kids saw A, B, C, or D. I saw four psychological traps. Through the power of severe overthinking, I could construct a flawless, 10-step logical argument for why every single option was correct. Naturally, I would pick the wrong one. To this day, multiple-choice questions give me hives.

Chapter 2: Codenames and clues

This superpower extends to family game night. Whenever I play Codenames with my cousin, niece, and Aa, a simple one-word clue becomes a Da Vinci Code cipher. I will connect "Tree" to "Spaceship" via a complex web of conspiracy theories, overcomplicate the entire board, and confidently pick the exact card that loses us the game. Aa never picks me for his team :( 

Chapter 3: Agent 99 mode 

The real danger happens when I need to hide something. My house is not Buckingham Palace. It doesn't have 775 rooms. It has three. Three rooms! Yet, if I decide to hide a valuable item before going on holiday, I enter full AGENT 99 mode. I overcomplicate the hiding spot so thoroughly that weeks after returning, it takes a 10-day Mission to recover my own watch. This is a true story, no cap. 

Chapter 4: The Great Passport Heist  

This brings us to the recent Passport Disaster.

After a trip in January, amidst the chaos of house renovations, I decided to be "organised." In March, I hid my passport in a spot so secure that even British Intelligence couldn't find it. I distinctly remember telling my boys where I put it. (Spoilers: They didn't listen, obviously!!).

Flash forward two months. Next holiday booked. Time to gracefully grab the passport and—cue panic music—it has vanished into thin air. 

• Day 1: The Operation: I searched every logical corner of the house. Nothing.

• Day 2: Mission Impossible: Upgraded the search radius. I checked every cupboard, every drawer, in every room, including the garage. Still no luck.

• Day 3: Absolute Obsession: I woke up at the crack of dawn, possessed by the spirit of a detective. I refused to eat, sleep, or blink until it was found. And then... EUREKA! I found it. I had hidden it so well that I had successfully outsmarted myself.

⚠️ For the Record: Throughout this entire three-day house crisis, I received absolutely zero assistance from the ungrateful peasants who cohabitate this palace with me. Not a single finger was lifted.

The End: Aftermath

I am currently writing this while suffering from severe, post-search vertigo. I feel giddy, exhausted, and emotionally drained by my own intellect. 

Moving forward, I am officially retiring from my espionage. I am buying AirTags for my passport, my watch, my keys, and honestly, probably my sanity.

What do you do to keep your things safe!! I'm sure I'm not alone.