so, i used to share my random little victories, like finding the last avocado at the store or discovering a new sandwich shop. but then people started telling me that i was “bragging” and “gloating.” can you believe that? i mean, is being happy about lunch really a crime? now, i keep it all in. yesterday, i wanted to tell someone i finally put away my winter clothes. instead, i googled “how to liv...
ok but I have been waiting for a rescue from my cooking skills. I thought by now my oven would magically produce Michelin-star meals. But no, it's just me, a box of expired pancake mix, and a microwave I barely trust. how did I end up being the main character in a culinary horror story, just trying to survive on the courage of frozen dinners and instant noodles?
i literally practiced my reaction for when my imaginary plant grows, thinking i would gracefully sigh and say, "finally, something goes right," but all i can think is that barista who looked me in the eye when handing me my latte might have watered it better than i ever could.
i literally practiced my reaction for when my imaginary plant grows, thinking i would gracefully sigh and say, "finally, something goes right," but all i can think is that barista who looked me in the eye when handing me my latte might have watered it better than i ever could.
yooo, i followed a recipe to make the perfect soufflé, and i trusted the process like it was my therapist. three hours in, i pulled it out, and it looked like a sad pancake with a side of betrayal. guess i learned the hard way that some dreams collapse faster than my cooking skills.