Some days begin with promise. You wake up, stretch, and think: Yes, today I shall function. You imagine yourself doing responsible human activities—replying to emails, drinking water, maybe even folding laundry before it reaches the “textile mountain” stage. But then, without warning, your brain decides to unlock a bonus level of nonsense and suddenly you’re wondering if pigeons ever get confused about who they are or whether clouds feel competitive about their shapes.
And just when you’re midway through questioning whether cereal is just socially accepted breakfast soup, something extremely professional drops into your mental playlist like a classical violin solo interrupting a kazoo parade: Construction accountants. Not because you were thinking about money. Not because you were thinking about construction. Not even because you were thinking. It just appears—like an adult chaperone walking into a room full of feral thoughts doing cartwheels.
But don’t panic—this is not a blog about tax, brickwork, financial reports, building contracts, calculators, or anything that smells like “grown-up responsibilities.” This is about the strange, wonderful, unrequested thoughts that fill the gaps between useful moments. The thoughts that appear when you stare into the fridge like it’s a portal to alternate timelines. The thoughts that happen when you rehearse saying “no worries!” and then say “you’re welcome” instead. The thoughts that convince you, for half a second, that maybe you could still become a professional juggler if life doesn’t work out.
Adulthood wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. Nobody warned us that we’d be in our 20s, 30s, 40s and STILL saying, “Wait, what day is it?” or “Why did I just walk in here?” The brain keeps important things in the “maybe later” bin while proudly displaying useless trivia, like the fact you still inexplicably know every word to a jingle you heard once in 2010.
Meanwhile, outside your swirling spiral of “Do fish have accents?” there are people who exist in a stable mental climate. People who finish tasks in the order they started them. People who file documents and remember passwords without emotional trauma. People who don’t stare into space for 9 full seconds before saying “I’m fine, just thinking.” These people are incredible. They might even be the exact type of humans who work with balance sheets while wearing actual matching socks.
But the world needs both kinds—those who operate on structure, and those who look at structure and say “hmm, what if we gave it googly eyes?”
If your thoughts drift. If your brain reroutes itself mid-sentence. If you’ve ever put something “in a safe place” and never saw it again—you are not broken. You are simply running the extended creative version of the human operating system.
Yes, the world runs on order, consistency, and yes—even Construction accountants…
…but it stays interesting because someone, somewhere, is trying to eat crisps quietly and accidentally sounding like a thunderstorm.
And honestly? That balance is perfection.
