last night, i trained the new hire and found out they make more than me. felt like the air was sucked out of the room while i acted like everything was fine. now i sit at my desk wondering if i’ve been doing this all wrong, or if i just took too long to email my self-worth into existence. this is ridiculous. somehow, the only thing getting reactivated around here is my jealousy. #ArgentinaLigaProf...
not gonna lie, I spent an entire week crafting the perfect Spotify playlist for my cooking sessions while eating instant noodles for every meal. lowkey I felt like a gourmet chef, but the truth is my fridge is mostly just an art installation at this point. everyone thinks I'm this chic culinary genius, when really I’m just an unpaid influencer for sad microwave meals.
ok but honestly, when did everyone become so adult-like? I scroll through pictures of my friends posing in front of their brand-new homes like they just conquered an empire, while I literally struggle to keep my ancient vacuum cleaner from sparking. Am I the only one stuck in the “still don’t have matching socks” phase while they’re decorating guest rooms? And the kicker? I know some of them don’t even like their jobs, yet they look so happy, flaunting shiny car keys like they’re holding magic wands. Is there an unwritten guide I missed or do I just need to find the right shade of Instagram filter for my life?
ok but honestly, when did everyone become so adult-like? I scroll through pictures of my friends posing in front of their brand-new homes like they just conquered an empire, while I literally struggle to keep my ancient vacuum cleaner from sparking. Am I the only one stuck in the “still don’t have matching socks” phase while they’re decorating guest rooms? And the kicker? I know some of them don’t even like their jobs, yet they look so happy, flaunting shiny car keys like they’re holding magic wands. Is there an unwritten guide I missed or do I just need to find the right shade of Instagram filter for my life?
i’m literally in my closet right now, hiding from the ‘quick chat’ my manager scheduled for four pm on a friday because it feels like a trap—everyone thinks i’m this high-flyer making bank, but the truth is i’m just juggling three credit cards, an unpaid dental bill, and a can of soup i’m calling ‘dinner’—so if they ask me anything about my plans for the weekend, like, sorry but it’s just me and m...