I’m convinced that the only true art form left in this world is the ability to Netflix and chill alone without feeling like a total loser. It’s a talent, really. I mean, who needs a social life when you can achieve emotional highs and lows from fictional characters making the worst choices possible? Seriously, I've had more intense relationships with TV shows than with any person in the last few y...
I just want to take a moment to appreciate those random texts from friends that say, "Hey, just checking in on you." Like, what is this sorcery? How do you know I'm in a spiral of existential dread while lying on my couch, surrounded by snack wrappers? Honestly, those tiny gestures hit harder than a motivational quote on a poster. It's like, yes, I need to know someone out there cares that I'm one...
Can we talk about how annoying it is when people act like they "love" cooking but really just want to post pretty pictures of their food on Instagram? Like, I saw someone spend an hour chopping vegetables for a salad and then just threw it all in a bowl for the ‘gram. Meanwhile, I'm over here just trying to figure out if instant noodles count as a balanced meal. Is there a secret culinary club I’m missing out on? Because if “seasoning” means adding salt and calling it gourmet, sign me up.
Can we talk about how annoying it is when people act like they "love" cooking but really just want to post pretty pictures of their food on Instagram? Like, I saw someone spend an hour chopping vegetables for a salad and then just threw it all in a bowl for the ‘gram. Meanwhile, I'm over here just trying to figure out if instant noodles count as a balanced meal. Is there a secret culinary club I’m missing out on? Because if “seasoning” means adding salt and calling it gourmet, sign me up.
So, here's a wild thought: maybe we should all stop trying to "find ourselves" and just focus on the fact that we probably lost ourselves in the first place because we were too busy pretending to be flawless humans. Like, why don’t we just embrace our messiness? I mean, who decided that adulting means being put together all the time? I’m just over here smashing my goals, like, “Yes, I finally clea...