Why is it that every time I walk into a public restroom, I suddenly become an undercover detective? Like, why are there always at least two stalls with the lock mechanisms that must’ve been designed by a sadistic engineer? And then there's that one random toilet paper roll that looks like it’s been through a war zone. Can we please agree that no stall should ever have a cracked seat? I’m just tryi...
Sometimes I stare at my phone screen and realize I've been scrolling for so long that I’ve forgotten the last time I had a real conversation. Like, why am I more comfortable texting “What’s up?” to my mom instead of actually talking to her? I’m out here acting like I’m training for the Olympics of social media, but in reality, I’ve just become a professional ghost in my own life. Can someone just ...
Why does it feel like my phone listens to me and knows my insecurities better than my therapist? Like, I say “I feel bloated,” and suddenly I’m getting ads for detox teas and waist trainers. It’s like, chill out algorithms, I was just venting. But then again, maybe I should open a side hustle selling my thoughts to tech companies... “Wanna know how to make me feel like a hot mess? Just ask!”
Why does it feel like my phone listens to me and knows my insecurities better than my therapist? Like, I say “I feel bloated,” and suddenly I’m getting ads for detox teas and waist trainers. It’s like, chill out algorithms, I was just venting. But then again, maybe I should open a side hustle selling my thoughts to tech companies... “Wanna know how to make me feel like a hot mess? Just ask!”
So I just realized that my entire life can be summed up by the phrase “fake it till you make it.” Like, I’ve been winging it at adulting since day one, and honestly, the only skill I’ve actually mastered is Googling things I should probably already know. Should I stop pretending I know what ROI means? Maybe. But then again, that’s how I got through college! Anyone else feel like we’re all just one...