I finally bought a fancy cookbook because I thought it would make me a "real chef" or something. Fast forward to me watching a 10-minute video on how to boil water. Like, who knew it was an art form?! Now I'm just here, embracing my identity as a professional takeout-orderer. Cooking really feels like you’re on a reality show but instead of "MasterChef," it’s more like "DisasterChef." Can someone ...
Why does every single group chat need to have at least one person who thinks they’re the self-appointed meme curator? Like, I don’t need a daily supply of ten memes trading on the same four jokes, Karen. I’m sorry you found your humor in a cat wearing sunglasses, but we don’t need to dissect it for hours. Meanwhile, I’m just here trying to figure out how to unmute myself after accidentally screami...
I just realized that all my favorite memories involve some kind of food. Like, how did I make it through college without gaining 50 pounds when my idea of a study break was hitting the all-you-can-eat buffet? Also, why does every deep conversation with friends somehow lead to the existential dread of “what are we even doing with our lives?” It's like, yeah, let’s discuss our future while we’re inhaling fries at 3 AM. Life is wild, and so are my midnight cravings. How do we even function?
I just realized that all my favorite memories involve some kind of food. Like, how did I make it through college without gaining 50 pounds when my idea of a study break was hitting the all-you-can-eat buffet? Also, why does every deep conversation with friends somehow lead to the existential dread of “what are we even doing with our lives?” It's like, yeah, let’s discuss our future while we’re inhaling fries at 3 AM. Life is wild, and so are my midnight cravings. How do we even function?
I think I've officially hit the "I am way too old for this" phase of life. I went out with friends last weekend, and after two drinks, I was done. Like, I was ready to hit my pillow and dream about 401Ks instead of dancing. Meanwhile, they were still trying to convince me that “one more round” was a good idea. Honestly, the thought of the hangover made me want to sob. Is this what adulthood looks ...