Author: Jay Abrenica

Each December at work meant closing the books. Every dollar reconciled. Every budget line defended. At home, it was the opposite. Unopened credit card statements sat untouched. Shipping boxes piled up and disappeared into the closet. I had no real idea what I’d spent on cards. The avoidance wasn’t accidental. It was deliberate. The denial was professional grade. At the office, I demanded accountability from myself and everyone around me. Performance metrics. ROI justification. Budget variance analysis. The same discipline I

There was a time when collecting felt simple. A pack in your hand, sidewalk beneath your feet, and nothing but hope inside that wrapper. No spreadsheets. No live chats. No breakers screaming at the top of their lungs. No urgency threaded into the experience. Just joy. Somewhere along the way, that simplicity was replaced by speed. And speed rarely gives us time to ask why. Spring 1977. Sunday afternoons when a 15-cent pack of Topps