Why is it that every time I try to cook, I end up with a kitchen that looks like a crime scene? Like, how does chopping one onion lead to a full-blown disaster? I swear I could win a "Top Chef" title if the challenge was just ordering takeout and not getting my hand stuck in the takeout bag. Seriously, do chefs possess some secret superpower that turns them into kitchen wizards, while I’m just ove...
I finally decided to pick up cooking during quarantine, and let me tell you, my smoke alarm is now my biggest fan. I thought "how hard can it be?" until I made pasta and somehow set off a chain reaction that turned my kitchen into a scene from a disaster movie. If you ever need motivation to order takeout, just remember my tragic attempt at garlic bread that literally became a crime scene. Who kne...
So, I decided to finally try out one of those "escape room" experiences with my friends, thinking it’d be a fun bonding activity. Turns out, when there's a timer involved, I become a total psycho! I was yelling at my friends to 'just think' while I was frantically trying to decipher a riddle that made zero sense. Spoiler: we ended up locked in there longer than necessary because I couldn't handle the pressure. Now I'm convinced I should stick to Netflix marathons instead of group adventures. Why can’t binge-watching require a key?
So, I decided to finally try out one of those "escape room" experiences with my friends, thinking it’d be a fun bonding activity. Turns out, when there's a timer involved, I become a total psycho! I was yelling at my friends to 'just think' while I was frantically trying to decipher a riddle that made zero sense. Spoiler: we ended up locked in there longer than necessary because I couldn't handle the pressure. Now I'm convinced I should stick to Netflix marathons instead of group adventures. Why can’t binge-watching require a key?
Is it just me, or does everyone hit that weird point in their 20s where you start feeling like your life is just a half-baked Pinterest project? Like, I used to think I'd have my dream job, a cozy apartment, and maybe a dog named Kevin by now, but instead, I’m over here saving up for that one really nice pair of socks I saw online. Meanwhile, my childhood dreams of being a "famous author" are comp...