The Wrecking Ball

Who You Really Are

You fix things. Sort of. You take them apart with good intentions, then lose interest halfway through, leaving a trail of half-assembled furniture and abandoned hobbies in your wake. Your apartment is a graveyard of "I'll get back to that" projects.

"I started three new hobbies this month. Finished zero. But I have a lot of new equipment gathering dust."

The Wrecking Ball personality combines the worst of introversion (you can't be bothered with people) with practical skills that somehow never translate into completed tasks. You're the person who confidently says "I can fix that" and then the thing is in pieces on your floor for six weeks.

Your friends learned long ago not to lend you anything they need back in one piece. Not because you're malicious—you genuinely meant to return their drill. It's just that you needed to take it apart to see how it worked, and now there's a spring missing and nobody knows where it went.

The "I Work Best Alone" Myth

You tell yourself you work best alone because other people "slow you down." The reality? You work alone because your process involves long stretches of staring at components, muttering obscenities, and making decisions that would alarm any reasonable collaborator.

Your problem-solving style is less "methodical troubleshooting" and more "aggressive poking until something happens." Sometimes this works. Often it creates two new problems. You've accepted this as a lifestyle.

Communication isn't your strong suit. You give one-word answers to complex questions and multi-paragraph explanations for simple ones. Reading the room? The room is full of parts you're trying to identify. Social cues can wait.

Breaking Things With Confidence

Rules exist for people who don't understand how things actually work. Or so you tell yourself while voiding yet another warranty. Your relationship with instruction manuals is strictly adversarial—they represent someone else's idea of how things should go, and you have your own methods.

This extends beyond physical objects. Social norms, workplace procedures, relationship boundaries—you crash through them all with the same blunt energy. Not because you're rebellious. You just genuinely forgot they existed while focused on whatever's in front of you.

The upside: you occasionally figure out shortcuts nobody else saw. The downside: you also discover why certain safety protocols exist, usually the hard way.

You're not trying to cause chaos. The chaos just... happens around you. Like a natural phenomenon. Like weather. Expensive, inconvenient weather that your friends have learned to budget for.