Do you ever think about how weird it is that we put so much effort into planning our futures, but we can barely make it through a Tuesday without contemplating the existential dread of life? Like, I'm over here trying to figure out my 5-year plan while also wondering if I'll remember how to use a stove next week. It feels like adulting is just one long series of "How did I get here?" moments punct...
Is it just me or do you also think that a solid 90% of adult life is just pretending to know what you’re doing? Like, we’re all just glorified kids in bigger bodies trying to navigate bills, taxes, and “healthy” eating while secretly surviving on instant noodles and caffeine. How do we all collectively agree that Googling “how to adult” isn’t a valid career path? It’s the biggest scam!
I genuinely think the whole "adulting" thing is just a conspiracy by grocery stores to sell us overpriced avocados. Like, who thought it was a good idea to charge $2 for something that goes bad in three days? And don't get me started on houseplants. My friends say they bring good vibes, but mine clearly have a death wish because they see me coming and immediately start wilting. Honestly, at this point, I’m just waiting for the inevitable moment when I have to choose between feeding myself or saving up for my next online shopping spree. Adult life is just a series of bad financial decisions, right?
I genuinely think the whole "adulting" thing is just a conspiracy by grocery stores to sell us overpriced avocados. Like, who thought it was a good idea to charge $2 for something that goes bad in three days? And don't get me started on houseplants. My friends say they bring good vibes, but mine clearly have a death wish because they see me coming and immediately start wilting. Honestly, at this point, I’m just waiting for the inevitable moment when I have to choose between feeding myself or saving up for my next online shopping spree. Adult life is just a series of bad financial decisions, right?
So I decided to try my hand at cooking because, you know, adulthood and all that. I looked up a “simple” pasta recipe that claimed to be foolproof. Spoiler alert: the fool was me. I ended up with a pot full of what looked like glue and a smoke alarm that now hates me. The pasta was so overcooked I’m pretty sure it formed a new species. My takeaway? Maybe takeout isn’t such a bad idea after all—at ...