I used to think that adulthood meant having your life together, but here I am, still googling how to fold a fitted sheet like it's a secret government operation. Honestly, the real adulthood test should be figuring out which bills to pay this month without breaking down into tears. And can we talk about how the "dream job" was sold to me like it was going to be a cakewalk? Meanwhile, I’m just here...
I just realized that my phone has probably seen more hours of my face than my closest friends have this year. My screen time says I’m basically in a committed relationship with my apps, but I can’t even remember the last time I went out to have an actual conversation without someone staring at their screen too. If one more person insists we’re “connected” through our social media likes, I might ju...
Is it just me or is the entire concept of “adulting” basically just a prolonged episode of a reality show where nobody gives you a script and the challenges are all terrifying? Like one minute you’re trying to figure out how to do your taxes and the next you’re dodging the societal expectations of marriage and home ownership like they’re laser beams. I’m honestly starting to think my true calling is to be a professional procrastinator—at least I'm really good at it! Am I winning at life or just on the world's longest dodgeball team?
Is it just me or is the entire concept of “adulting” basically just a prolonged episode of a reality show where nobody gives you a script and the challenges are all terrifying? Like one minute you’re trying to figure out how to do your taxes and the next you’re dodging the societal expectations of marriage and home ownership like they’re laser beams. I’m honestly starting to think my true calling is to be a professional procrastinator—at least I'm really good at it! Am I winning at life or just on the world's longest dodgeball team?
Can we talk about how society has turned 'adulting' into a competition? Like, I didn't ask for a degree in stress management just to figure out how to fold a fitted sheet or host dinner parties while pretending I'm not silently judging the quinoa salad. Meanwhile, my mom thinks I'm failing at life because I can't grow a garden. Spoiler: I can barely keep my houseplants alive! Shouldn't there be a ...