Just Relaxed Blog

Category: Personal Essay

  • The Unspoken Rules of Being a Line-Stander (And Why I’m Now a Pro)

    The Unspoken Rules of Being a Line-Stander (And Why I’m Now a Pro)




    My Line-Standing Baptism by Fire

    Let’s be honest, nobody likes waiting in line. But some things – concert tickets, limited-edition sneakers, the cronut craze of 2013 – are worth it. And that’s where the fine art of line-standing comes in. My initiation? Oh, it was a doozy. Picture this: a torrential downpour, 2 AM, and me, shivering in a soggy unicorn onesie outside a toy store for the hottest new gaming console. I was woefully unprepared. No chair, no snacks, no clue. Let’s just say I learned the hard way.

    But like a phoenix rising from the ashes of my damp, sugary shame (don’t ask about the spilled juice box), I emerged a line-standing warrior. So, my fellow queue comrades, I impart my hard-won wisdom. Heed these unspoken rules, and you too can conquer any line:

    Rule #1: Respect the Invisible Boundary Line

    You know that invisible force field that surrounds each person in line? That’s sacred ground, people. Respect the bubble. Don’t be that person who breathes down necks, starts up unsolicited conversations, or (god forbid) tries to cut the line. We’re all in this purgatory together, let’s maintain a civilized distance.

  • Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me

    Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me



    We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a cheesy reality show, a half-eaten bag of chips precariously balanced on your stomach. You glance up, and there it is: the judgment. From your houseplant.

    Is My Houseplant Giving Me the Side-Eye?

    It started subtly. I’d be rushing out the door, late for work, and catch a glimpse of my peace lily, Steve. (Don’t judge, I’m a firm believer in plants having dignified names.) It felt like he was… following me with his leaves.

    like he was disappointed.

    “Another takeout container in the recycling?” Steve seemed to sigh. “You know, composting is really not that hard.”

    Okay, maybe I was projecting. But the guilt was real.

    My Houseplant Judged My DIY Skills – I Swear!

    One particularly harried evening, I was attempting to assemble furniture using only a butter knife and sheer willpower (it was doomed from the start). I may have uttered a few choice words that would make a sailor blush. That’s when I saw it.

    Steve’s leaves did a full-body shudder.

  • The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry




    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry


    Let’s be honest, laundry isn’t exactly the most thrilling activity. It’s repetitive, it’s time-consuming, and let’s be real, folding fitted sheets is practically a sorcery I haven’t mastered yet. Yet, somehow, amidst the sorting, the washing, and the (occasionally successful) folding, my brain decides to embark on philosophical journeys. Yes, you read that right. Laundry day is my unexpected portal to deep thoughts.

    The Great Sock Mystery

    It always starts innocently enough. I’m pairing socks, feeling smug about my organizational skills, when suddenly… BAM! A lone sock stares back at me from the bottom of the basket. Its mate? Vanished. Lost to the mysterious abyss of the dryer, never to be seen again. Where do they go? Is there a parallel universe populated entirely by single socks, living out their days in mismatched bliss? Are they having more fun than me? Probably.

    Laundry Cycle

    There’s something oddly satisfying about the cyclical nature of laundry. Dirty clothes go in, clean clothes come out. It’s a never-ending cycle, much like life itself. As I transfer a load from the washer to the dryer, I can’t help but draw parallels. We all go through our own cycles of messy and clean, joy and sorrow, growth and renewal. And just like that stubborn stain that requires a second wash, sometimes we need a little extra effort to come out sparkling clean on the other side.

    The Fabric of Our Lives: Memories in Every Thread

    As I fold a soft, well-worn t-shirt, I find myself thinking about the stories our clothes could tell. That t-shirt? It’s seen me through countless movie nights, impromptu picnics, and one particularly epic karaoke session. Each garment holds a memory, a snippet of our lives woven into its very fibers. It’s a tangible reminder that life is made up of moments, big and small, and each one leaves its mark.

    laundry-doer. Who knew that such a mundane chore could spark such existential pondering? Maybe I’m just overthinking things (a distinct possibility), or maybe there’s something to be said for finding moments of reflection in the everyday. What about you? What deep thoughts (if any) cross your mind while tackling the laundry mountain? Share your wisdom in the comments below!


  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant




    My Thumb Went from Brown to… Slightly Less Brown

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my green thumb. In fact, I’m more likely to accidentally murder a succulent than keep it alive. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a houseplant for my birthday, my immediate thought was, “Oh no, not another one.” I imagined its inevitable demise, a sad pile of wilted leaves joining the ghosts of houseplants past.

    But something unexpected happened. This time, something clicked. Maybe it was the plant’s forgiving nature (seriously, it’s a ZZ plant, they practically thrive on neglect), or maybe I was just finally ready to pay attention. Whatever the reason, this little plant became my unlikely teacher, imparting wisdom I never knew I needed.

    plant-loving friend warned me about overwatering, so I thought, “I’ve got this!” But I completely forgot about the fertilizer.

    Fueled by the best of intentions (and maybe a touch of over-enthusiasm), I decided to give my plant a boost. I envisioned lush, abundant growth practically overnight. So, naturally, I gave it a double dose of fertilizer. What could go wrong, right?

    Well, let’s just say my plant did NOT appreciate my generosity. The leaves started to yellow, and I’m pretty sure it glared at me with silent judgment. After some frantic Googling and a sheepish call to my friend, I learned that patience is key when it comes to plant care (and, you know, life in general).

    Just like we can’t rush personal growth or achieve our goals overnight, plants need time to absorb nutrients and flourish. Sometimes, the best thing we can do is provide what they need and then step back and let them do their thing.

    Lesson #2: Embrace the Sunlight, Even on a Cloudy Day

    Now, anyone who’s met me knows I’m not exactly a morning person. I’m more of a “hit snooze nine times and then reluctantly crawl out of bed” kind of gal. My plant, on the other hand, is all about soaking up those early rays.

    Watching it stretch its leaves towards the morning sun reminded me that even when life feels a bit gloomy, there’s always a source of light if we’re willing to look for it. It might not be the bright, shining sun we expect, but even on the cloudiest of days, there’s still a glimmer of something good to be found.

  • The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry




    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

    We all have those mundane tasks that make up the rhythm of our lives. For some, it’s washing dishes. For others, it’s mowing the lawn. For me, it’s laundry. Yes, that weekly (or, let’s be honest, bi-weekly) grapple with Mount Washmore sends my mind down some truly bizarre rabbit holes.

    From Dirty Socks to the Meaning of Life

    Just the other day, I was staring into the abyss of my laundry basket, contemplating the sheer volume of clothing I wear in a week (spoiler alert: it’s a lot), when it hit me. What does it all mean? Like, here I am, meticulously sorting socks (because, yes, I’m that person), and for what? So I can wear them again and repeat the cycle? Is this the circle of life Simba was singing about?

    Sock Mystery: Where Do Missing Socks Go?

    We’ve all been there. You put two socks in the washer, but somehow, only one emerges from the dryer. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle, but for socks. Where do they go? Do they have tiny sock passports and decide to elope? Are there sock monsters living in my dryer vents? The world may never know.

    The truly frustrating part is that the remaining sock, now a lonely bachelor, is basically useless. I mean, what am I going to do with a single sock? Wear it on my hand like a sock puppet? Start a sock-puppet theater dedicated to solving the mystery of its missing mate? The possibilities are endless, yet strangely unappealing.

  • The Time I Tried to Be a Morning Person (and Failed Spectacularly)

    The Time I Tried to Be a Morning Person (and Failed Spectacularly)



    The 5:00 AM Pact (and My Immediate Betrayal)

    My alarm clock sang its cheerful tune at 5:00 AM. Okay, “cheerful” might be a stretch. It was more like a digital rooster crowing directly into my ear. I’d made a pact with myself, you see. I was going to be one of those mythical creatures: a morning person.

    This delusion usually strikes me once a year, usually after reading some article about the productivity secrets of CEOs who wake up before dawn. This time, it was an Instagram post showcasing a woman sipping lemon water in a sun-drenched yoga pose as a majestic sunrise painted the sky behind her. “This could be me,” I’d thought, blissfully ignorant of the sleep inertia that awaited me.

    Back to the alarm. I smashed the snooze button with the fury of a thousand grumpy bears. Nine minutes later, the rooster crowed again. This cycle repeated itself until my actual, human-powered alarm (my six-year-old son) burst into my room demanding pancakes.

    Operation Sunshine: My Failed Morning Routine Experiments

    My initial failure didn’t deter me. Oh no, I had strategies! I researched the science of sleep cycles, invested in a sunrise alarm clock, and even tried that whole “going to bed early” nonsense (spoiler alert: Netflix always wins).

    Here’s a glimpse into my week of valiant, albeit ridiculous, efforts:

    1. Monday: Sunrise alarm clock. Verdict: Pleasant, but entirely ineffective at rousing a determined sleeper. I woke up at noon to the smell of burning toast (apparently, I also tried to make breakfast before going back to sleep).
    2. Tuesday: Motivational mantra and vigorous exercise. Verdict: Managed to drag myself out of bed and through a 10-minute yoga video. Immediately rewarded myself with a nap on the yoga mat.
  • The Unspoken Rules of Elevator Etiquette (and the People Who Break Them)

    The Unspoken Rules of Elevator Etiquette (and the People Who Break Them)




    The Unspoken Rules of Elevator Etiquette (And How to Avoid Being “That” Person)


    My Personal Elevator Nightmare (And Why You Need to Read This)

    We’ve all been there. You step into the elevator, hoping for a quick and quiet ride to your floor. But then, the doors close and you’re trapped. Trapped with them. The Chatty Cathy who wants to discuss their entire medical history. The Close Talker who invades your personal space like it’s their job. The one person who decides to bring a full tuna sandwich on board (seriously, why?). It’s enough to make you want to take the stairs, even if you’re on the 20th floor.

    Elevators, those metal boxes of awkward social interaction, are governed by a set of unspoken rules. Rules that, sadly, some people seem to be completely oblivious to. So, let’s break down these unspoken commandments of elevator etiquette, shall we?

    Rule #1: Thou Shalt Respect the Sacred Silence

    Rule number one, and arguably the most important, is the sacred silence. The elevator is not your personal phone booth, karaoke bar, or therapy session. It’s a place for peaceful contemplation, light music streaming through your headphones, or perhaps, the gentle hum of awkward silence.

    Yet, there they are. The ones who feel the need to narrate their entire day, complete with sound effects. The ones blasting questionable music from their phones. The ones who mistake the elevator for a confessional booth, divulging personal details you never asked for and definitely didn’t want to know.

  • The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)

    The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)



    Plant Parent: My Story

    Let’s be honest, I used to be a plant killer. I’m talking serial succulent assassin, notorious cactus crusher. If a plant had the misfortune of entering my home, its life expectancy plummeted faster than my patience during rush hour traffic. But something changed last year. Maybe it was the pandemic-induced need for some living, breathing company that wasn’t on a screen. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to bring some life into my apartment, which, let’s face it, resembled a very organized storage unit. Whatever it was, I decided to give plant parenthood another shot.

    And guess what? I didn’t kill them! In fact, they thrived. And so did I. Turns out, being a plant parent comes with a whole host of unexpected joys.

    Stress Relief: Finding Zen One Leaf at a Time

    Remember that feeling of accomplishment you got from finishing a puzzle? Or the pure joy of finally conquering that impossible level on your favorite video game? That’s the feeling I get every time I see a new leaf unfurl on my monstera. It’s a small victory, sure, but it’s a victory nonetheless.

    There’s something incredibly therapeutic about caring for plants. The act of watering, pruning, and even just observing them can melt away stress like sunshine on a snowdrift. And the best part? They don’t judge your messy bun or your questionable dance moves while you’re repotting them (unlike certain furry companions).

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant


    My Brown Thumb Gets a Green Roommate

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my nurturing nature. In fact, my friends joke that I could kill a cactus with kindness (or more accurately, forgetfulness). So, when my well-intentioned sister gifted me a houseplant for my birthday, my initial reaction was a mix of terror and “Oh no, not again!”

    It was a cute little thing, nestled in a cheerful pot, with bright green leaves that seemed to practically vibrate with life. I christened him Percy (because, duh, all living things deserve names) and placed him on my windowsill, determined to prove my brown thumb wrong.

    Lesson #1: Patience is a Virtue (and Essential for Plant Care)

    Now, I’m a millennial, which means I thrive on instant gratification. But Percy, in his quiet, leafy wisdom, taught me the importance of patience. I couldn’t expect him to sprout new leaves overnight just because I wanted him to. Growth takes time, both for plants and for people. Just like I shouldn’t obsessively refresh my inbox waiting for important emails, I couldn’t hover over Percy, willing him to flourish.

    Instead, I learned to appreciate the subtle changes: a new leaf unfurling, a stem stretching towards the sunlight. And you know what? Witnessing those small victories was far more rewarding than any instant gratification I could have imagined.

    Lesson #2: The Delicate Balance of Watering: Less is More

    This lesson was a tough one, learned through a series of unfortunate, soggy mishaps. In my mind, more water equaled more love. However, Percy, bless his roots, taught me that sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is to back off and give some space.

    You see, I had a tendency to overwater. I showered Percy with affection (read: excessive H2O) until his poor leaves drooped and turned an alarming shade of yellow. It was then I discovered the delicate balance between care and suffocation.

  • The Time I Tried to be a Morning Person (and Failed Spectacularly)

    The Time I Tried to be a Morning Person (and Failed Spectacularly)




    The Time I Tried to be a Morning Person (and Failed Spectacularly)


    We’ve all been there. Scrolling through Instagram at midnight, stumbling upon a post of some impossibly perfect human who’s already finished their morning yoga, green smoothie, and daily meditation before the sun even thinks about rising.

    And in that moment, bathed in the pale glow of our phone screens, we think, “I could be like that! I could be a morning person!”

    The Pact I Made with the Devil (aka My Alarm Clock)

    My attempt to join the ranks of chipper morning people started innocently enough. It was a particularly brutal Monday morning, the kind where even my coffee looked at me with pity. I was running late, hair a mess, tripping over my own feet, and desperately trying to find my keys (spoiler alert: they were in the fridge).

    That’s when I decided, “Enough is enough! I’m going to become a morning person, conquer the day, and be the envy of all who cross my path!”