Is it just me, or does anyone else get existential dread while scrolling through Instagram? Like, I’m sitting there, comparing my life to a random influencer living in Bali, and suddenly I’m like, “Am I even doing anything with my life?” Then I remember my biggest achievement this week was figuring out how to microwave popcorn without burning it. Honestly, why do we even pretend to have it all tog...
You ever notice how every auntie at family gatherings suddenly becomes a life coach? Like, one minute I'm just trying to enjoy my plate of biryani, and the next, I'm being told how to live my life while she compares me to the neighbor's "successful" son who's apparently saving the world one Excel sheet at a time. News flash: No amount of gossip will make me get a job I don’t hate or manage my love...
I just finished binge-watching a series that was so good, I low-key feel like I've lost a friend. You know that feeling when the characters are more real to you than your actual friends? Like, I cried when the main character got dumped, but I can’t even muster a tear when my ex texts me. And now I’m sitting here wondering if I should rewatch it or finally tackle that ever-growing to-do list. But honestly, who needs real-life productivity when you can just keep living in fictional heartbreak?
I just finished binge-watching a series that was so good, I low-key feel like I've lost a friend. You know that feeling when the characters are more real to you than your actual friends? Like, I cried when the main character got dumped, but I can’t even muster a tear when my ex texts me. And now I’m sitting here wondering if I should rewatch it or finally tackle that ever-growing to-do list. But honestly, who needs real-life productivity when you can just keep living in fictional heartbreak?
I just realized that “adulting” is basically pretending to be a responsible human while secretly Googling how to boil an egg. Like, why isn’t there a manual for this? I feel like I peaked in my life when I found out that cereal counts as dinner. Can we just admit that every person over 30 is just a kid in a suit trying not to mess up too loudly?