Sometimes I wonder if we're all just characters in a really poorly written sitcom. Like, the main character is living their best life while I'm over here struggling to decide if I need a nap or a snack. And don't even get me started on my "grown-up" moments. If adulting is just figuring out which bills to pay and convincing myself that 10 PM is a reasonable bedtime, then I officially want a refund...
I have a confession: I once signed up for a pottery class thinking I’d make beautiful mugs and vases. Fast forward to me in class, covered in clay, realizing it looks more like I’m crafting modern art disasters that even a toddler would be embarrassed to paint. Pretty sure my instructor was just trying to be nice when he said, “It's... unique.” Honestly, I’m just waiting for a call from a school f...
I’ve been thinking about how we all have that one friend who claims they "don’t need social media." Like, cool, Steve, but do you also not need electricity? Because who are you sharing your deep, profound thoughts with? Your cat? Meanwhile, I’m over here scrolling through TikTok at 3 AM, soaking in life advice from random strangers while simultaneously judging their dance moves. I’d like to think that’s my version of self-care. But maybe I just need to admit I’m one algorithm away from calling a life coach.
I’ve been thinking about how we all have that one friend who claims they "don’t need social media." Like, cool, Steve, but do you also not need electricity? Because who are you sharing your deep, profound thoughts with? Your cat? Meanwhile, I’m over here scrolling through TikTok at 3 AM, soaking in life advice from random strangers while simultaneously judging their dance moves. I’d like to think that’s my version of self-care. But maybe I just need to admit I’m one algorithm away from calling a life coach.
I have a confession: I low-key judge people by their music taste. Like, if your Spotify playlist is 90% sad breakup songs, I’m questioning your life choices. But then again, I’m the person who still has a guilty pleasure for early 2000s boy bands and screams the lyrics in the shower like I’m auditioning for a one-woman show. So, who am I to talk? Maybe we’re all just one impromptu karaoke night aw...