I finally blocked out an hour for 'self-care' last night.

I spent 15 minutes trying to find the right guided meditation on YouTube, 20 minutes wondering if my face mask was expired, and the last 25 minutes stress-cleaning my bathroom before I could relax.

He put in his profile that he was 'over the drama' and wanted a 'no-fuss, chill' girl.

Then he spent our entire first date explaining why his last four relationships were 'crazy'.

I was trying to open a jar of pickles yesterday, and it just wouldn't budge.

I didn't just struggle; I dropped to my knees, looked up at the ceiling, and delivered a full Shakespearean monologue about the futility of human endeavor against the unyielding forces of the universe, all to the backdrop of a soaring orchestral score only I could hear.

My biggest life goal isn't buying a house or traveling the world.

It's finding a pair of women's jeans with pockets deep enough that my phone doesn't look like it's trying to make a daring escape every time I sit down.