Why is it that the moment I decide to actually read a book, my brain suddenly goes into full-on panic mode about everything I’ve ever procrastinated? Like, I’m just trying to enjoy this thriller, but instead, I’m planning my life and wondering if I’ll ever achieve anything. Can someone explain how getting lost in a story somehow leads to an existential crisis? Asking for a friend… or maybe for mys...
You ever just realize that all those childhood dreams of becoming a superstar or a world traveler are now replaced by the harsh reality of trying to figure out how to pronounce “quinoa” at a dinner party? Like, who even decided that success means being stressed out over a 9-5 and wondering if your plants are thriving? Can someone explain why adulting feels like a never-ending game of "who can pret...
So, I recently had the brilliant idea to go trekking with a group of people I barely knew. Sounds fun, right? Fast forward to me, two hours in, realizing my “friends” were actually just a bunch of super fit adrenaline junkies who left me behind to chase waterfalls while I was contemplating the meaning of life and my existence at the bottom of the hill. At one point, I thought about calling an Uber… from the middle of the forest. I swear nature is just a gym for people who’ve decided they can’t stand the sight of a treadmill. Can we just agree that some of us are more about the “sitting by the campfire” lifestyle than the "let's climb a mountain" vibe?
So, I recently had the brilliant idea to go trekking with a group of people I barely knew. Sounds fun, right? Fast forward to me, two hours in, realizing my “friends” were actually just a bunch of super fit adrenaline junkies who left me behind to chase waterfalls while I was contemplating the meaning of life and my existence at the bottom of the hill. At one point, I thought about calling an Uber… from the middle of the forest. I swear nature is just a gym for people who’ve decided they can’t stand the sight of a treadmill. Can we just agree that some of us are more about the “sitting by the campfire” lifestyle than the "let's climb a mountain" vibe?
Why is it that every time I finally sit down to enjoy a meal, someone in the family needs a favor that requires me to become a superhero? Like, can’t you see I’m trying to have a moment with my biryani? My mom just called me into the kitchen for the eighth time this week to help her figure out why the microwave is “acting funny.” I’m convinced it’s just mad at me for not using it to warm up the le...