Can we talk about how annoying it is when people pretend to love cooking just to post it on Instagram? Like, I saw this one person throw together a meal that looked like it came straight from a Michelin star restaurant, but I know for a fact they also ordered takeout three times last week. Just admit it, we all know your kitchen is just a prop for your feed. Meanwhile, I’m over here burning toast ...
I have a confession: I still check my grades from college even though I graduated three years ago. It’s like watching a train wreck I can't look away from. Why? Because my parents remind me of my GPA like it’s the family ancestry; apparently, that’s my legacy now. And the craziest part? I still have nightmares about failing an exam I already passed. Why do I do this to myself? Someone send help… o...
Why do we treat the “Out of Office” reply like it's a sacred text? I mean, if I’m ever out, I want my email to say, “I'm probably at the beach, sipping a coconut and ignoring my responsibilities. Good luck getting in touch!” Instead, we’re all just sending robotic responses that scream, “I’m definitely not having fun!” Can we collectively agree that if you’re taking a break, you should own it? Who are we fooling, honestly?
Why do we treat the “Out of Office” reply like it's a sacred text? I mean, if I’m ever out, I want my email to say, “I'm probably at the beach, sipping a coconut and ignoring my responsibilities. Good luck getting in touch!” Instead, we’re all just sending robotic responses that scream, “I’m definitely not having fun!” Can we collectively agree that if you’re taking a break, you should own it? Who are we fooling, honestly?
I’ve come to the realization that adulting is just Googling “how to do basic life stuff” while pretending you have it all figured out. Like, do I really need to know the difference between a 401k and an IRA? Can’t I just collect Pokémon cards for retirement? Also, why is it that I can remember every lyric to a song from 2005 but can’t recall what I had for breakfast this morning? At this point, I’...