We Can Fix It If We Never Face It

Let’s be honest: we’ve all got that one drawer. You know the one—jammed with dead batteries, a single earring, and a receipt from 2014 for something called a “Chia Pet-Snuggie Combo.” We don’t open it, we don’t fix it. We just pretend it’s part of the wall now. Congratulations, you’ve mastered the ancient art of Never Facing It—the universal strategy for solving absolutely nothing, brilliantly.

Why “We’ll Deal With It Later” Is Basically a Superpower

Think about it: if you never face a problem, it can’t technically defeat you. It’s like playing hide-and-seek with your own responsibilities, and you’re always the hider. That weird noise your car makes? It’s not a problem—it’s a custom rhythm feature. That email from your boss marked “URGENT”? Still unread, still harmless, still living in a blissful digital limbo.

Here’s a surprising fact: psychologists call this “avoidance coping.” But I call it “strategic denial,” and it has a 100% success rate at keeping today’s problems out of today’s calendar. In a 2020 study, researchers found that people who actively avoided thinking about a stressful event felt less anxious in the short term. Really! You’re not lazy—you’re just optimizing your emotional stock portfolio for immediate gains.

The Fine Art of “Fix It Later” (A Masterclass)

Let’s break down the technique. Step one: identify the problem. Step two: immediately look away. Step three: mutter something like, “That’s a future-me problem.” Future-me is a saint, by the way. Future-me never complains, never gets tired, and apparently runs on infinite coffee and desperation. Current-me just takes a nap.

I once had a leaky faucet that dripped for eight months. By month four, I started thinking of it as a tiny indoor fountain. By month six, I named it Gerald. Gerald and I had a routine: he dripped, I ignored him, and we both pretended he was a decorative water feature. Did I fix it? No. Did I eventually move out? Also no. But Gerald and I reached a beautiful, wet understanding.

When “Never Facing It” Backfires Spectacularly

Of course, there’s a catch. Sometimes, the un-faced problem gets a personality of its own. That one unpaid parking ticket? It doesn’t just sit there—it multiplies. It sends friends. First, it’s a $20 fine. Then it’s a $200 bench warrant for “failure to appreciate municipal parking laws.” Suddenly, you’re a fugitive from the DMV, and your life is a low-budget thriller directed by your own procrastination.

And don’t even get me started on home repairs. In 2019, a man in Ohio reportedly ignored a small crack in his foundation for three years. When he finally checked, a family of raccoons had built a condo complex, complete with a HOA that demanded acorns by the first of the month. That’s the risk: you’re not avoiding a crack; you’re curating a wildlife invasion.

The Surprising Science of “Just Not Looking”

But here’s the kicker: neuroscience says this can actually work—for a little while. Your brain’s prefrontal cortex, which handles planning and panic, can only process so much. When you ignore a problem, your amygdala (the fear center) chills out. You literally feel calmer. It’s like putting your anxiety in a drawer and slamming it shut. Dr. Catherine Pittman, a clinical psychologist, once noted that avoidance gives your brain a “stress timeout,” which is just a fancy way of saying you’re giving yourself permission to binge-watch reality TV guilt-free.

One study from Stanford even showed that people who avoided checking their bank accounts after a big purchase reported 30% higher happiness levels for up to a week. Ignorance isn’t just bliss—it’s statistically blissful. You’re not broke; you’re just in a data-free wellness zone.

The “Offload to Future You” Strategy

So how do you turn this into a lifestyle without becoming a raccoon landlord? Easy: delegate to your future self, but be kind about it. When I have a bill I don’t want to see, I schedule an email to myself—for next month—that says, “Remember that thing? Handle it. You’re the best.” Future-me will probably roll his eyes, but current-me feels like a genius. It’s the emotional equivalent of changing the subject at a party.

Another trick: call it “strategic postponement.” That sounds like a business term, which makes you feel professional. “I’m not ignoring the leaky roof; I’m strategically postponing the capital expenditure until Q3 of my personal fiscal year.” Then go eat a cookie. You’ve earned it.

The Grand Conclusion (Which We’re Also Avoiding)

Look, we can fix it if we never face it—for a while. The trick is knowing when to peek. Eventually, Gerald the faucet will flood your kitchen, and the raccoons will start charging you rent. But for today? Let’s just agree that some problems are better left in a drawer, next to that Chia Pet-Snuggie. Future-you is a responsible adult. Current-you is just having a coffee. And honestly? That’s the most American thing you can do—postpone the hard stuff, enjoy the easy stuff, and hope the universe forgets to send the bill.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go ignore a blinking smoke detector. It’s been telling me it’s low on batteries for six months, and I’m committed to the bit. We can fix it if we never face it—and so far, my apartment hasn’t burned down. That’s a win in my book. Probably a temporary one, but a win nonetheless.