I saw a guy's Instagram story where he called himself a 'free spirit'

but his posts were just 12 identical pictures of his beard from different angles

I've started to think that my planner is just a book where I write down all the things I'm pretending to have control over

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.

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.