So, I’ve been thinking… why do we always act like we need some grand plan for our lives when the truth is, most of us are just winging it with a coffee in one hand and a snack in the other? Seriously, I Googled “what’s my life purpose” and got a million self-help articles about meditation and journaling. But let’s be real, if my mental health depended on writing down my feelings, I’d be working at...
I’m starting to think my life is just a long series of 'I just want to fit in' moments. Like, I’ll spend an entire week planning the perfect outfit for a friend’s wedding, only to show up and feel like an extra in a Bollywood movie because everyone else looks SO glamorous. Meanwhile, I’m over here channeling “desi auntie chic”—who knew that was a thing? And don’t get me started on that awkward sma...
I genuinely think that adulting is just a series of increasingly complex problems that can only be solved by Googling “how to adult” and praying for the best. Like, why did nobody warn us that laundry would become a weekly game of "what's that smell?" or that cooking means you're basically playing a high-stakes game of "will this explode?" I swear, every time I step into the kitchen, I channel an overconfident chef who’s about to dramatically fail on national TV. If someone told me I’d miss the simplicity of being a kid who just needed to show up for snack time, I would have laughed. Now my biggest fear is the existential dread that comes with forgetting to pay my credit card bill on time… and yet here we are!
I genuinely think that adulting is just a series of increasingly complex problems that can only be solved by Googling “how to adult” and praying for the best. Like, why did nobody warn us that laundry would become a weekly game of "what's that smell?" or that cooking means you're basically playing a high-stakes game of "will this explode?" I swear, every time I step into the kitchen, I channel an overconfident chef who’s about to dramatically fail on national TV. If someone told me I’d miss the simplicity of being a kid who just needed to show up for snack time, I would have laughed. Now my biggest fear is the existential dread that comes with forgetting to pay my credit card bill on time… and yet here we are!
So I went on a "sophisticated" wine tasting tour last weekend, and let's just say my palate is very much more accustomed to the sweet, bubbly joy of a cheap soda than fancy fermented grapes. I spent half the time trying to look cultured while secretly Googling what “notes of oak” even means. Spoiler: I have no idea. By the end, I was more tipsy than classy, and the only thing I took away was a new...