My 14-pound brisket for the Fourth of July cookout was where I finally caved (after years of preaching the no-wrap gospel, mind you). I was facing a hard deadline with guests arriving, and the stall was threatening to push dinner into midnight snack territory. Wrapping in peach paper at around 165 degrees not only sped things up by a good four hours, but the bark stayed perfectly tacky, not steamed soft like I feared. Now I see it as part of the rhythm, a way to respect both the meat and the clock (and my sanity, honestly). That one adjustment turned a stressful marathon into a predictable, enjoyable process.

Always thought home workers were slacking off, until I tried it and realized the need for actual boundaries.

Oh, I was absolutely that hardliner. My old sketchbooks look like a tornado hit a museum gift shop. Then I tried grouping a series of character studies by color palette and, begrudgingly, realized I could actually find things. Turns out "pretentious" is just what we call organizational skills we're too lazy to learn.

Using an app from 2018? That's like navigating with a SHREDDED map.