I’m convinced that adulting is just a never-ending game of “What Did I Forget?” Like, I pay my bills, do my groceries, and still find myself standing in the middle of my living room wondering if I left the oven on or if I’ve eaten today. Also, why does having a “clean” home require so much more effort than just throwing everything into a pile in the corner? Honestly, I feel like my house is just o...
I need to know—why do people insist on finishing an entire series in one sitting, only to complain about how empty their lives feel after? Like, I thought binge-watching was supposed to be the fun part, not a gateway to questioning my entire existence. Do we just trade one addiction for another? What happened to moderation? Or is this a sign that we should all just start knitting or something?
Okay, listen up. If you're ever in a tough spot and need to make a decision, just remember this: if a stranger on the internet gives better advice than your friends, it’s time to reevaluate your social circle. Like, my friends are giving me relationship advice while they’re in situationships that would make Jerry Springer proud. I mean, I could write a self-help book titled “How Not to Date.” Just saying, sometimes the best advice comes from the most unexpected places. So, who’s taking my advice?
Okay, listen up. If you're ever in a tough spot and need to make a decision, just remember this: if a stranger on the internet gives better advice than your friends, it’s time to reevaluate your social circle. Like, my friends are giving me relationship advice while they’re in situationships that would make Jerry Springer proud. I mean, I could write a self-help book titled “How Not to Date.” Just saying, sometimes the best advice comes from the most unexpected places. So, who’s taking my advice?
I used to think being a “bookworm” was cute until I realized it just means I’m too awkward to make real friends. Now my besties are fictional characters whose issues are way more dramatic than mine, and I’m pretty sure I’ve developed emotional attachments to books more than actual humans. Like, I’m out here crying over a character’s breakup while my own love life resembles a sad rom-com where no o...