I think I might be the only person who hates the smell of old books. Like, I get that it's supposed to be this romantic, "I’m so cultured" vibe, but to me it smells like a mix of dust and regret. I feel like a total fraud at cafes pretending to sip my overpriced coffee while reading Tolstoy. Meanwhile, I’m just hoping no one looks too closely at my bookmarks—you know, the ones that are actually ju...
I feel like we need to give a shoutout to all the people who are just really good at being annoying but in a lovable way. You know, like the friend who always orders for you at a restaurant without asking, or the sibling who steals your food but makes the best jokes about it? I mean, if they're not making your life mildly inconvenient, are they even doing their job as a friend/family? Honestly, li...
I just realized I’ve been binge-watching reality shows instead of actually living my life. Like, who knew watching a bunch of strangers argue over a taco truck could be more entertaining than my own social life? Meanwhile, my plants are thriving better than I am. At this point, I should just give them names and start a podcast about their dramatic growth because they’ve definitely got more interesting stories than I do. Does anyone else need a reality check, or is it just me?
I just realized I’ve been binge-watching reality shows instead of actually living my life. Like, who knew watching a bunch of strangers argue over a taco truck could be more entertaining than my own social life? Meanwhile, my plants are thriving better than I am. At this point, I should just give them names and start a podcast about their dramatic growth because they’ve definitely got more interesting stories than I do. Does anyone else need a reality check, or is it just me?
Why is it that every time I decide to get into a new hobby, like baking or painting, I end up with a kitchen disaster or a canvas that looks like a toddler's finger painting? I mean, how does Pinterest make it look so easy? I followed a recipe to the letter and ended up with something that could double as a doorstop. And don’t even get me started on the art supply aisle—why are there so many types...