I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I’ve been pretending to be “into” hiking just to impress a guy. Turns out, I’d much rather binge-watch a whole season of a show from the comfort of my couch than trek up a mountain while praying a bear doesn’t eat me. The last time I “hiked,” I almost passed out halfway up because I forgot to eat breakfast. So now I’m sitting here, dodging texts and trying t...
Is it just me, or does adulthood feel like a never-ending game of "guess what I’m supposed to be doing"? I mean, they really should have handed out instruction manuals along with that college degree. Like, here we are, expected to have our lives together by 30, but half the time I still can't figure out how to pay my bills without Googling "how to open an envelope." Seriously, why do I feel more l...
I just realized that every time I log onto social media, I’m basically signing up for a competition to see who can look the happiest while simultaneously feeling like a bag of mixed emotions. Like, why do I feel like I’m in an episode of Black Mirror? Everyone's posting about their "picture-perfect" lives, while I’m over here wondering if I should be concerned about how much I talk to my plants. It’s crazy how we’re all just trying to convince each other (and ourselves) that we’ve got it all figured out when, in reality, we’re just one bad WiFi connection away from a full-on existential crisis.
I just realized that every time I log onto social media, I’m basically signing up for a competition to see who can look the happiest while simultaneously feeling like a bag of mixed emotions. Like, why do I feel like I’m in an episode of Black Mirror? Everyone's posting about their "picture-perfect" lives, while I’m over here wondering if I should be concerned about how much I talk to my plants. It’s crazy how we’re all just trying to convince each other (and ourselves) that we’ve got it all figured out when, in reality, we’re just one bad WiFi connection away from a full-on existential crisis.
Why is it that every time I go to a restaurant, the waiter delivers the food like it’s some holy artifact? Like dude, I’m just here for a burger, not a Michelin star experience. And don’t even get me started on the portion sizes. I ordered “family size” thinking I’d feed my inner glutton, but it’s literally a side salad that’s seen better days. Is it too much to ask for a place that treats my crav...