Okay, here’s a confession: I once ghosted someone because they told me they didn’t like ketchup. Like, how can you not enjoy the basic joy of ketchup on fries? I imagined a future with them where I’d have to endure sad, dry meals, and honestly, I just couldn’t. Now I'm sitting here scrolling through their socials while I debate if I should’ve just offered them a bottle instead. Who knew a condimen...
I just wanna take a moment to appreciate the unsung heroes of my life: the people who tolerate my endless rants about nothing. Seriously, how do you sit through my detailed analysis of why pineapple on pizza is the greatest culinary achievement of our time? Like, I know I can be a lot, and yet you stay, nodding along like I’m dropping some deep wisdom. You deserve medals or at least a lifetime sup...
Why is it that every time I go to a café, I end up feeling like I just signed my life away for a cup of overpriced espresso? I mean, am I paying for the drink or the ambiance that screams “I’m definitely too cool for my actual job”? And don’t even get me started on the WiFi password that’s longer than my actual assignments. Meanwhile, the barista casually judging my order like I’m the reason why overpriced coffee exists. If I wanted judgment, I’d just call my mom.
Why is it that every time I go to a café, I end up feeling like I just signed my life away for a cup of overpriced espresso? I mean, am I paying for the drink or the ambiance that screams “I’m definitely too cool for my actual job”? And don’t even get me started on the WiFi password that’s longer than my actual assignments. Meanwhile, the barista casually judging my order like I’m the reason why overpriced coffee exists. If I wanted judgment, I’d just call my mom.
Why is it that every time I try to cook something healthy, it turns into a scene from a horror movie? I swear, one minute I’m chopping veggies and feeling like a culinary genius, and the next, I’m setting off the smoke alarm because I thought 'just a bit more of olive oil' would make my stir-fry taste gourmet. Spoiler: it doesn’t. Meanwhile, my takeout menu is judging me silently from the kitchen ...