I had a moment of clarity the other day while scrolling through my social media. We’ve all been there, right? You see those perfect influencer lives and you’re like, “Wow, I can barely keep my house plant alive!” Then I realized, if I posted all my food fails or my living room that looks like a laundry explosion, would anyone even follow me? Or would it just be a support group for fellow disaster ...
I have a love-hate relationship with cooking. One minute I’m feeling like a MasterChef, the next, I’m staring at a pot of burnt pasta that even my trash can refuses to accept. Like, is it too much to ask for one recipe to come out the way it looks on Instagram? And don't get me started on those cooking videos—how is everyone always so calm while I’m struggling to even chop an onion without crying?...
Why do we even bother with movie sequels? Like, we all know they’re just cash grabs. It’s basically Hollywood saying, “Hey, remember how you cried during the first one? Let’s ruin that feeling with a half-baked plot and characters we didn’t bother to develop.” Yet here I am, still watching every one like I'm hoping for a miracle. Why am I like this? Did I miss a memo saying I had to suffer for my love of cinema?
Why do we even bother with movie sequels? Like, we all know they’re just cash grabs. It’s basically Hollywood saying, “Hey, remember how you cried during the first one? Let’s ruin that feeling with a half-baked plot and characters we didn’t bother to develop.” Yet here I am, still watching every one like I'm hoping for a miracle. Why am I like this? Did I miss a memo saying I had to suffer for my love of cinema?
Why is it that every single time I try to get my life together, I end up just sitting on my couch watching random YouTube videos about how to fold a fitted sheet? Like, isn’t adulting supposed to involve less procrastination and more being productive? But here I am, learning about a skill I’ll probably never use while my to-do list mocks me from across the room. Can anyone relate, or am I just the...