I started the day with a carefully organized to-do list. Then I opened one email, got distracted, reorganized my desktop, checked the weather in three cities I don’t live in, and somehow ended up researching whether penguins have knees. They do. Productivity achieved.
My coffee and I are in a committed relationship. It gives me strength, warmth, and emotional support. I give it absolutely nothing except increasingly unreasonable expectations.
I love when a meeting ends with, “Let’s schedule another meeting.” It’s like defeating the final boss only to discover it has a second health bar.
Today’s fitness update: I walked into the kitchen, forgot why I was there, walked back to the living room, remembered, and returned to the kitchen. That’s two laps. Progress is progress.
Being an adult is mostly saying, “After this week, things should calm down,” until you eventually retire.
My phone battery lasts longer when I’m waiting for something important. Scientists call this phenomenon “rude.”
I finally cleaned out my junk drawer. It now contains three batteries of questionable strength, seven mystery keys, a coupon that expired in 2019, and enough charging cables to open a small electronics store.
Nothing makes you question your intelligence quite like standing in front of a door and pushing when it clearly says “PULL.” Bonus points if someone is watching.
I downloaded an app to help limit my screen time. I spent 45 minutes customizing its colors, notifications, goals, and widgets. Then I rewarded myself with some screen time.
Some people wake up at 5:00 a.m. to exercise, meditate, and build their empire. I wake up at 7:00 and negotiate with the snooze button like it’s holding my family hostage.
My brain at 2:00 p.m.: “We’re exhausted.”
My brain at 2:00 a.m.: “Would you like to review every awkward thing you’ve said since 1998?”
I don’t need an inspirational quote. I need someone to follow me around and say, “Don’t buy that. You already have one at home.”
The best part of cooking is confidently ignoring the recipe, creating a problem, and then blaming the recipe.
I put something in a “safe place” so I wouldn’t lose it. It is now so safe that no human being will ever find it again.
My weekend plans include doing absolutely nothing, feeling guilty about doing nothing, and becoming too emotionally exhausted to do anything.