The Backlog of Bricks: A Confession in Plastic

At some point, this stopped being a hobby and became a lifestyle choice. I’m not sure exactly when it happened — maybe it was around kit number ten... or fifteen... or the day I started categorizing them by box size. All I know is:
I have a growing army of unbuilt brick sets.

You see, there’s a certain joy in acquiring a new kit. That moment of clicking "Add to Cart," the rush when the package arrives, the sheer possibility of creation inside that box. And then... I put it neatly on a shelf and tell myself:
“Soon. Maybe this weekend. Definitely after I finish that other build.”

Reader, the weekend never came.

I currently have more unbuilt kits than I’d admit to Suzie, waiting for their time in the sun. Starships, skyscrapers, dragons, droids, and who-knows-what from that one online impulse buy at 1 a.m. They sit patiently in their pristine boxes — judging me quietly, forming their own support group.

And yet... I keep collecting.

Because let’s be honest: the backlog is part of the fun. It’s a vault of creativity, a plastic time capsule of future builds and mental escapes. It’s like a LEGO retirement plan — except instead of golf, it’s tiny bricks and mild obsession.

So what’s the plan?

Good question. I’m committing (sort of) to starting regular build sessions. I’ll highlight one kit at a time, document the chaos, and post progress as I go. You’ll get photos, reactions, probably a few curse words, and maybe — just maybe — I’ll make a dent in this monument to ambition.

Stay tuned. The bricks are waiting.