You sit down to finally tackle it: a proposal, the closet whose contents attack you every time you open it, the email you've drafted and redrafted four different times and sent zero. And before you've done a single thing, a voice shows up uninvited. It never RSVPs; it just barges right in. "I should have done this already." "Why is this so hard for me?" Rude, honestly. You didn't even offer it a snack, and it's already redecorating your brain with doom. That voice has a name.