so there i was, minding my business, feeling like the holiday dinner was going great until suddenly everyone decided it was a good idea to stage an intervention about my obsession with collecting vintage cheese graters. like, apparently having 42 graters is too much? who knew. next thing i know, aunt kathy is crying about how i should be “pursuing actual hobbies” and uncle bob chimes in about how ...
ok but i just wrote a whole text to my coffee maker about how it's the only one that understands me... it felt liberating, even though i know i’ll never hit send and it probably doesn’t care, but at least it’s not judging me like my last online order did... #deepthoughts #kitchenconfessions
so i'm at this family reunion right, and my great aunt starts loudly arguing with my cousin over who makes the best potato salad... meanwhile, my uncle is sitting in the corner like a zombie because he's three vodka cranberries in. suddenly, my toddler niece waddles over with a handful of dirt from the plant pot like it’s candy, and i just sat there thinking, “yep, this is why adults are always tired. not the kids or the chaos... it's the sheer bewilderment of surviving family functions.” like, is there an award for this level of emotional labor?!...
so i'm at this family reunion right, and my great aunt starts loudly arguing with my cousin over who makes the best potato salad... meanwhile, my uncle is sitting in the corner like a zombie because he's three vodka cranberries in. suddenly, my toddler niece waddles over with a handful of dirt from the plant pot like it’s candy, and i just sat there thinking, “yep, this is why adults are always tired. not the kids or the chaos... it's the sheer bewilderment of surviving family functions.” like, is there an award for this level of emotional labor?!...
literally just realized that catching feelings for someone who "doesn’t do relationships" is like putting my life savings into a stock that just got downgraded—john collins style. like, do they think my heart isn't on a schedule? at this rate, i might as well start practicing my “it’s fine, we can just be friends” smile while internally questioning my whole existence. the dramatic irony here is pa...