I've felt intensely curious about the world around me for... as long as I can remember, honestly. When I first encountered television (I think I was around two or three years old), my first thought was something along the lines of "How is that picture changing? Surfaces don't suddenly change color by themselves--you've got to cover them with paint, or ink, or something!" (Obviously, my toddler-self's thoughts were nowhere near as well-articulated as that, but that was the gist of it. I also remember feeling absolutely dumbfounded when I realized that other children my age didn't think this way.) This curiosity may have diminished somewhat between then and now (I'm 17 years old), but if it has, it's been a small enough decrease that it's hard to tell. And my curiosity still far outstrips that of my peers.

The problem is that my curiosity is too easily satisfied. In more concrete fields like math or the physical sciences, this is okay; when I'm feeling confused about a particular concept, I can simply look it up, or resolve to look it up later if there's not a computer or textbook at hand. After I look it up, one of three things happen:

1. I comprehend the explanation, in the sense of understanding the words, but I don't grok it. At this point, I end up intermittently pondering the problem during my free time until it finally just clicks with me. This can take anywhere from a few hours to several weeks, but the longest I've ever had it take was about two months. I've never been mistaken about my ability to grok something; if I feel intuitively that I should be able to "get" it, then sooner or later, it happens. (Possible placebo effect, though I doubt it could have that strong of an effect.)
2. I grok it immediately. (This is a fairly uncommon occurrence, but it happens from time to time.)
3. The explanation is so dense and/or so reliant on domain-specific knowledge that I can tell, at a glance, that I won't be able to comprehend it until I've undergone some major study in the topic. At this point, I take the issue and file it away in a little corner of my brain, to be taken out and reexamined once I acquire the necessary expertise to understand. My curiosity hasn't quite been sated, but it has been put off for now.

Any way you look at it, there's no danger of me suddenly ceasing to try to understand the topic. As long as I'm curious about it, I'll keep hacking away at the edges.

The problem arises when there's no way to determine the correct answer by simply looking it up, usually because (a) experts themselves aren't sure, (b) the literature on the topic is obscure and hard to find, or (c) there's significant disagreement on the topic. This phenomenon doesn't occur much in mathematics or in the hard sciences, but in fields like social science, it's quite rampant. When that happens, you might think something similar to what I described in 3 above takes place, where I file the issue away for later, and my curiosity isn't quite sated, but it is postponed...

Unfortunately, that's not quite what happens. My curiosity gets sated anyway.

How?

By me.

For whatever reason, I'm, like, really, really good at coming up with just-so stories. And the thing about System 1 is that it doesn't differentiate between a scientifically sound, peer-reviewed conclusion that I read about in a respectable, reliable source, and some random story I just came up with myself that happens to mesh well with my current worldview. So I think of a possible explanation, and it just sounds so elegant (where by "elegant" I mean "Wow! This fits perfectly with what I already know!") that I instantly accept it. And all of this happens entirely below the level of conscious awareness. And suddenly I feel that exact same thrill that I feel when I suddenly understand something new--and I'm not curious anymore. After all, what's there left to be curious about? I know the answer, right? At least, it certainly feels like I do.

Needless to say, this is a problem.

I'll end with a metaphor: I'm not a particularly stubborn horse. If there's water right in front of me, I will drink. In fact, since I'm constantly thirsty, it's actually really easy to lead me to water (of course, I'll need to sniff the water first to make sure it's not poisoned or anything). Problem is, when there's no water readily available, I start drinking my own urine.

And what's worse? I seem to be perfectly fine with that.