I’m starting to think my childhood dream of being a writer was just a cover for the fact that I really just wanted to avoid adult responsibilities. Like, if I could just spend my days crafting stories and pretending to know what I’m doing, who needs a 9 to 5? Instead, here I am, scrolling through job listings like I’m picking out a new pair of shoes. Spoiler alert: I have terrible taste in both. H...
Why do we all act like adults have it figured out? Like, I went to buy milk yesterday and ended up in the cereal aisle questioning the meaning of life while staring at 47 types of granola. There’s literally an existential crisis happening every time I shop! And don’t get me started on those heavily marketed “healthy” options that taste like cardboard dipped in sadness. If we’re not supposed to eat...
You ever sit back and think about how we place so much value on success and money, yet the happiest people I know are often the ones just vibing with their plants and calling their pet goldfish their “roommate”? Like, I’m over here stressing about paychecks while my neighbor is throwing a weekly dance party with her cat. Maybe our parents were wrong; success isn't about a fancy job title but how well you can shake your booty while making toast. Let’s normalize being that goldfish person instead of the corporate robot. Who's with me?
You ever sit back and think about how we place so much value on success and money, yet the happiest people I know are often the ones just vibing with their plants and calling their pet goldfish their “roommate”? Like, I’m over here stressing about paychecks while my neighbor is throwing a weekly dance party with her cat. Maybe our parents were wrong; success isn't about a fancy job title but how well you can shake your booty while making toast. Let’s normalize being that goldfish person instead of the corporate robot. Who's with me?
Why is it that I can binge-watch an entire series in one weekend, but the thought of reading more than two pages of a book without my mind wandering feels like climbing Everest? I mean, is it just me, or does the universe conspire to make reading feel like an extreme sport? And honestly, why do we pretend that we don’t hide the embarrassing book covers when we bring them out in public? Like, I’m n...