Why is it that every time I try to cook something fancy, I end up summoning a culinary disaster? Like, the recipe says "simmer gently," but my pot obviously thinks it's auditioning for a role in a horror movie with how violently it's bubbling. And don’t even get me started on my smoke alarm; it has become my sous-chef at this point, always there to cheer me on while I create masterpieces that coul...
Is it just me, or do we treat our phones like they're fragile little creatures that need constant pampering? I mean, I dropped mine once and it was like I crashed a wedding and the bride fainted. Why do we get so worked up over a cracked screen when we’ll willingly run 10 miles with the wrong shoes on? Also, can we talk about how our parents still think of our phones as supercomputers? Like, Aunti...
Why do I keep buying books I'll never read? I have a stack that's basically a monument to my good intentions and procrastination. It's like I think owning them will magically turn me into a wise philosopher, but instead, I just end up binging cat videos on YouTube. Am I alone in this or is there a secret club of “Book Collectors Who Never Read”?
Why do I keep buying books I'll never read? I have a stack that's basically a monument to my good intentions and procrastination. It's like I think owning them will magically turn me into a wise philosopher, but instead, I just end up binging cat videos on YouTube. Am I alone in this or is there a secret club of “Book Collectors Who Never Read”?
I have a confession: I only read the first few chapters of every self-help book I've bought. I start off all motivated, like “this time I’ll change my life!” but by chapter three, I’m usually working through the existential crisis that I didn’t realize I had. The irony is that I could probably write my own self-help book: “How to Be a Hot Mess and Still Keep Buying Books.” The worst part? The book...