I was running late for work and spilled coffee all over my shirt

So, I monologued to myself in the mirror, 'It's not just a stain, it's a metaphor for the chaos that is my life,' and then I walked out the door like I was in a Scorsese film.

My morning commute isn't just traffic.

It's the opening credits of my own indie film, complete with a custom soundtrack, dramatic lighting, and me staring pensively out the window, knowing that *this* is the montage where I find my true calling.

I've started using a dating app where you have to answer a questionnaire to find your perfect match

Now I know exactly what I'm looking for in a partner: someone who can handle 47 pages of my emotional baggage and still think I'm a catch

I've been trying to adult by creating a budget and tracking my expenses, but

it turns out I've just been categorizing my anxiety into different spreadsheet columns.