I have a hot take that might get me into trouble: if you’re relying on your friends to always be your emotional support, you’re doing friendship wrong. Like, we’re all just one existential crisis away from a meltdown, and I don’t want to be the one who has to remind you that avocado toast isn’t a personality trait. So, maybe try therapy? It’s cheaper than brunch for a group of five, and you won’t ...
Why is it that the more I try to eat healthy, the more I suddenly crave a cheeseburger like it's my last meal? It's like my taste buds have a wicked sense of humor. And don’t even get me started on the gym—every time I step in, I feel like I’m signing a pact with the universe to be sore for a week. Can someone explain why "health" has to be such a cruel joke?
I just found out that my five-year-old niece thinks I’m a “professional dog petter” because I’ve spent most of our family gatherings sitting on the floor, surrounded by her friends and their dogs, while the adults discuss boring adult stuff. Meanwhile, I’m over here pretending to be a dog whisperer, giving my best puppy voice like it’s a legit career path. Now I’m torn between living this lie or owning up to my “real job” as an underachiever who avoids adulting like it’s a plague. How do I explain this to a kid without shattering her dreams?
I just found out that my five-year-old niece thinks I’m a “professional dog petter” because I’ve spent most of our family gatherings sitting on the floor, surrounded by her friends and their dogs, while the adults discuss boring adult stuff. Meanwhile, I’m over here pretending to be a dog whisperer, giving my best puppy voice like it’s a legit career path. Now I’m torn between living this lie or owning up to my “real job” as an underachiever who avoids adulting like it’s a plague. How do I explain this to a kid without shattering her dreams?
I swear, public transport is the ultimate test of patience. The other day, I got squished between a smelly guy eating a double-decker vada pav and a woman loudly arguing with her mom on the phone about why she’ll never marry a guy who “drinks chai without sugar.” Like, can we just agree that the real villain here is the guy who thinks a sardine can is a proper mode of transportation? And don’t eve...