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'm not just running late for work, I'm

orchestrating a thrilling, against-all-odds, commute-as-action-movie sequence, complete with a pulse-pounding soundtrack and an Oscar-worthy monologue about the tribulations of public transportation.

I love how some guys on their dating profiles claim they're 'passionate about travel' and 'love adventure.'

Turns out 'adventure' means driving an hour to a different state's Buffalo Wild Wings.

I finally found a dress with actual, functional pockets yesterday.

I almost didn't buy it, because I wasn't sure I was ready for that level of commitment to practicality. My phone usually just lives in my bra.