So, I finally decided to try cooking last weekend because, you know, adulthood and all that. I got all fancy with a recipe for pasta, thinking it can’t be that hard, right? Fast forward to me setting off the smoke alarm while my ‘sauté’ turned into an impromptu fire dance. Meanwhile, my neighbor was probably on the edge of their seat thinking they’d have to save me from my culinary ambitions. At t...
I’ve come to the shocking realization that I actually appreciate the smell of old books more than most perfumes. Like, who needs Chanel when you can have musty pages and a hint of nostalgia? But honestly, if my life was a movie, that scent would be my soundtrack. Also, can we start a petition to make “reading in pajamas” an Olympic sport? Because I would definitely take home the gold.
I have a confession: I once ghosted my therapist. Like, I stopped showing up to our sessions without a word. It's not that I didn't need help; I just convinced myself that if I pretended my issues didn't exist, they'd magically disappear. Spoiler alert: they didn't. Now I'm back in the chair, and honestly, I'm just waiting for her to bring it up and make me face my own dramatic exit. 🤦♂️
I have a confession: I once ghosted my therapist. Like, I stopped showing up to our sessions without a word. It's not that I didn't need help; I just convinced myself that if I pretended my issues didn't exist, they'd magically disappear. Spoiler alert: they didn't. Now I'm back in the chair, and honestly, I'm just waiting for her to bring it up and make me face my own dramatic exit. 🤦♂️
I just realized I’ve spent more time scrolling through recipes on YouTube than actually cooking anything from them. Like, I can master the art of making a soufflé in my mind, but in reality, I burn toast and call it gourmet. Who knew a kitchen could feel like a game of Russian roulette? Meanwhile, the last time I tried to impress someone with my “chef skills,” they ended up ordering pizza. So here...