Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: humor

The Unexpected Perks of Living Life on the Fence (and How to Maybe, Possibly, Enjoy Them)
The Unexpected Perks of Living Life on the Fence (and How to Maybe, Possibly, Enjoy Them)

Paralyzed by Pizza Toppings: Sound Familiar?

Raise your hand if you’ve ever spent an absurd amount of time staring at a menu, utterly paralyzed by the sheer number of choices. Yep, that’s me, waving frantically from the back corner table, still debating between the margherita and the pepperoni while everyone else is halfway through their appetizers.
indecisive is like having a built-in procrastination button that gets smashed on repeat, especially when faced with, well, any decision. But what if I told you there’s a silver lining to this whole “perpetually undecided” thing? What if, just maybe, there are some unexpected benefits to being the friend who takes forever to pick a restaurant?

The Upside of Indecision: Why We Make Excellent Planners

Here’s the thing: chronically indecisive people aren’t afraid of thinking things through. In fact, we excel at it! We’re the masters of weighing pros and cons, considering every possible outcome (no matter how outlandish), and meticulously researching every. single. option.

This means that while we might take longer to arrive at a decision, we’re less likely to make rash choices. We’re the friends you want helping you plan a trip because you know we’ve already scoped out the best restaurants, mapped out alternative routes, and packed for every possible weather scenario (including a surprise snowstorm in July, just in case).

Indecision Breeds Empathy (and Open-Mindedness)

Indecisive people are rarely quick to judge. Why? Because we understand the struggle! We know what it’s like to be torn between different options, to see the merits in opposing viewpoints. This makes us incredibly empathetic listeners and friends. We’re the ones who will patiently hear out both sides of your story, offering a non-judgmental ear and a comforting, “Yeah, that’s tough. I totally get it.”

We’re also the queens and kings of seeing the hidden potential in things (and people!). That vintage lamp with the wonky shade? We see its retro charm. Your friend’s new, slightly eccentric hobby? We’re fascinated and eager to learn more. We embrace the unconventional, the quirky, the things that make life interesting.

Taming the Indecision Beast: Tips for Finding Your Way

Look, I get it. Being chronically indecisive can be frustrating, both for us and the people we love. But instead of viewing it as a flaw, let’s reframe it as a unique quirk, a different way of approaching the world. Here are a few tips that have helped this lifelong fence-sitter:
- Set time limits for decisions. Give yourself a reasonable amount of time to weigh your options, then pick one and move on. Don’t dwell on it!
- Embrace the “good enough” choice. Not every decision requires hours of deliberation. Sometimes, “good enough” really is good enough.
- Focus on the process, not just the outcome. Celebrate the fact that you’re a thoughtful person who considers things carefully. That’s a strength!
And hey, if all else fails, just flip a coin. You know you’ve considered both sides thoroughly enough by now, right?

Embrace Your Inner Waffler: What Are Your Indecisive Superpowers?

Being chronically indecisive might not always be easy, but it definitely comes with its own set of unexpected advantages. What are some of the ways your indecisiveness has actually benefited you? Share your stories in the comments below!

March 10, 2025
Navigating the Grocery Store Gauntlet: An Introvert’s Guide to Unspoken Rules
The Case of the Cart Conundrum

It happened again. I rounded the corner into the cereal aisle, my mind blissfully lost in granola possibilities, when BAM! A rogue shopping cart, seemingly driverless, slammed into my cart, jolting me back to reality. My heart hammered in my chest (as much as it ever hammers for an introvert safely cocooned in her comfort zone, which is to say, not very much, but still!). This, my friends, is a classic example of what I like to call “Grocery Store Gawk.” It’s that glazed-over expression many shoppers wear, myself included, that renders them oblivious to the complex social dance happening around them. And trust me, the grocery store is a hotbed of unspoken rules and social intricacies.
Grocery Store Aisles
Navigating the aisles is a delicate dance. You must maintain a steady pace, not too fast (lest you be mistaken for one of those frantic coupon clippers) and not too slow (blocking the flow of traffic is a cardinal sin). And heaven forbid you need to turn around! This maneuver requires strategic planning and precise execution to avoid a multi-cart pileup.

Here are a few more unspoken aisle rules to live by:
- The Two-Cart Minimum: If you’re with a partner or friend, maintain a two-cart distance between you and the person ahead. This allows for browsing without feeling their breath on your neck (or worse, engaging in unwanted small talk).
- The Sample Scrutiny: We all love a good freebie, but lingering too long at the sample station is a recipe for disaster. Grab, smile politely (even if you secretly hate mini-quiches), and move along.
- The Phone Zone: This rule applies to all areas of the grocery store, but especially the aisles. Keep your phone calls brief and hushed. No one wants to hear about your Aunt Mildred’s bunions while they’re trying to choose the perfect avocado.
Self-Checkout: Conquering the Introvert’s Everest

Ah, the self-checkout. A beacon of hope for introverts everywhere…until it malfunctions. Suddenly, you’re thrust into the spotlight, the red light flashing like a siren, as the robotic voice endlessly repeats, “Unexpected item in bagging area. Please remove item.” Cue the internal panic. Did I forget to weigh the bananas again? Is the machine judging my choice of frozen pizza?

March 10, 2025
The Time I Tried to Be a Morning Person (and Failed Spectacularly)

The 5:00 AM Pact (and How I Failed)

My best friend, Sarah, is one of those annoyingly perky morning people. You know the type: bounces out of bed at the crack of dawn, chirps about “seizing the day,” and somehow looks effortlessly put together while I’m still wiping sleep from my eyes. So, when she challenged me to join her 5:00 AM workout club for a week, I, in a moment of temporary insanity, agreed.

“It’ll be life-changing!” she promised, her eyes sparkling with the zeal of a thousand suns.

“Sure, sure,” I mumbled, already picturing myself hitting the snooze button approximately seven times.

sleep.

Let’s just say the workout was less “invigorating morning routine” and more “stumbling around the gym like a zombie.” Sarah, naturally, was a vision of energy and grace. I’m pretty sure I saw her bench-pressing a small elephant at one point.

The Accidental Nap Debacle

Days two and three followed a similar pattern of snoozing, groaning, and generally feeling like I was betraying my nocturnal nature. By day four, I was exhausted. Not the kind of tired that makes you sleep soundly, mind you, but the kind that makes you feel like you’re in a constant state of low-grade delirium.

And that’s how I ended up taking an accidental nap…on the bus…on the way to work.

Yes, you read that right. I nodded off, slumped against the window, and woke up to a kindly old lady offering me a cough drop. (To this day, I maintain that she thought I was ill and not just sleep-deprived.) The experience was both mortifying and a testament to my utter failure to become a morning person.

March 10, 2025
The Day the Five-Second Rule Saved My Dignity (and Maybe My Stomach)

The Day the Five-Second Rule Saved My Dignity (and Maybe My Stomach)

My Brush with Culinary Disaster (and Carpet Lint)

We’ve all been there. That heart-stopping moment when a perfectly good piece of food takes a nosedive towards the floor. Our eyes widen, our reflexes go into overdrive, and for a split second, time seems to slow down. Do we lunge? Do we weep? Or do we casually employ the time-honored tradition of the five-second rule?

I used to scoff at this so-called “rule.” “Germs don’t operate on a timer,” I’d declare with an air of smug superiority. Oh, how naive I was. My perspective did a full 180 after a particularly memorable incident involving a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie (still warm from the oven!) and my kitchen floor (which, I’m ashamed to admit, hadn’t seen a proper mopping in…a while).

Second Rule Story
Picture this: It’s a Friday night, I’m home alone, and I’ve just pulled a tray of gooey, chocolatey goodness from the oven. As I reach for a plate, disaster strikes. The cookie slips from my grasp, bounces off the counter, and lands with a sickening thud on the floor.

My heart sank. It was a thing of beauty, sacrificed at the altar of my clumsiness. But then, a glimmer of hope. “The five-second rule!” my brain screamed. Now, I won’t bore you with the details of the internal debate that raged within me. Let’s just say common sense lost to a potent combination of chocolate cravings and a desperate need to salvage something from this culinary catastrophe.

I snatched up the cookie, gave it a cursory inspection (ignoring the suspicious-looking fuzz clinging to its underside), and took a triumphant bite. And guess what? It was glorious.

The Aftermath: Did the Five-Second Rule Work?

Now, before you brand me a public health hazard, let me assure you, I lived to tell the tale. In fact, I experienced zero ill effects from my daring cookie rescue. This experience sparked a newfound appreciation for the five-second rule. Sure, it might not stand up to scientific scrutiny (and let’s be honest, dropping food on the floor is never exactly hygienic), but there’s something undeniably satisfying about refusing to let a little mishap ruin a perfectly good treat.

Let’s face it, life’s too short to mourn the loss of fallen food, especially when it comes to chocolate chip cookies. So, the next time you find yourself in a similar predicament, remember my story. Embrace the five-second rule, throw caution (and maybe some hand sanitizer) to the wind, and enjoy that rescued morsel. You might just be surprised at how delicious a little bit of “floor seasoning” can be (just kidding…kind of).

March 10, 2025
The Art of the Fashionably Late Arrival

The Art of the Fashionably Late Arrival

The Day I Embraced My Inner Clock-Challenged Diva

Picture this: It’s my best friend’s birthday dinner, and I’m running through the restaurant, mascara smudged, hair resembling a bird’s nest, apologizing profusely. As I slide into my seat, twenty minutes late, breathless and disheveled, everyone else is calmly sipping their wine, engaged in relaxed conversation. That’s when it hit me – they all looked fantastic, and I looked like I’d wrestled a raccoon. And you know what? They seemed… happy to see me.

late” – because honestly, haven’t we all earned the right to arrive with a little flair?

The Unexpected Perks of Being Fashionably Late

Here’s the thing: being “fashionably late” isn’t about disrespecting other people’s time. It’s about understanding the delicate balance between making an entrance and orchestrating a perfectly timed dramatic pause. It’s about the anticipation, the build-up, the “Where IS she?” whispers that culminate in the grand reveal. Okay, maybe I’m being a tad dramatic. But there are some genuine perks to this lifestyle choice:

Benefit #1: The Calm After the Storm

Arriving slightly after the scheduled time often means sidestepping the initial chaos. Think cocktail parties where everyone’s still awkwardly finding their footing or meetings where the small talk hasn’t quite gotten off the ground. You glide in, a vision of serenity, and effortlessly become the center of attention.

Benefit #2: The Master of Making an Entrance

Let’s be honest, there’s a certain thrill to arriving fashionably late. All eyes turn to you, a hush falls over the room, and for a fleeting moment, you are the star of the show. It’s a confidence boost disguised as a social faux pas.

Benefit #3: The Gift of Perspective

Being slightly removed from the initial frenzy allows you to observe and assess the situation with a fresh perspective. You can gauge the mood, identify key players, and craft the perfect entrance line. It’s like walking onto a stage with a pre-written script – you’re already one step ahead.

Confessions of a Chronically Unpunctual (But Lovable) Friend

Now, before you brand me as the queen of inconsiderate behavior, let me assure you, I have rules. First and foremost, I’m fiercely loyal to my friends. Need someone to pick you up from the airport at 3 am? I’m your girl. Important work deadline? Consider it done, ahead of schedule. But ask me to show up for brunch at 11 am sharp? Well, that’s where things get a little… flexible.

I’ve learned to embrace the humor in my tardiness. I once showed up late to a Halloween party dressed as a “Fashionably Late Fairy” – complete with a clock necklace permanently stuck at 12:15. It was a hit!

March 10, 2025
The Unexpected Joys of Being a Terrible Dancer
The Unexpected Joys of Being a Terrible Dancer

Let’s be honest, some of us were born to tango, while others… well, we were born to trip over air molecules. Guess which category I fall into? Yep, I’m the one who looks like they’re fighting off a swarm of invisible bees whenever music comes on.

My Epic Dance Floor Fail

My most memorable dance floor disaster? Oh, it’s a classic. Picture this: high school prom, shimmering lights, DJ blasting Backstreet Boys (don’t judge!). I’d practiced my “moves” for weeks, convinced I’d wow everyone. What actually transpired resembled a drunken giraffe attempting the Macarena. Let’s just say I cleared the dance floor faster than a fire alarm.

For years, that memory haunted me. I swore off dancing, convinced I was cursed with two left feet and zero rhythm. But then something magical happened…

Embracing the Awkwardness: A Turning Point

One night, a friend dragged me to a salsa club. I was terrified, but then I saw them: a couple absolutely butchering the salsa. And you know what? They were having a blast! Their laughter was infectious, and it hit me: who cares if I look ridiculous? The point is to have fun!
unexpected perks:

3 Unexpected Perks of Being a Bad Dancer
1. Instant entertainment: Seriously, I’m basically a one-woman comedy show on the dance floor. People point, they laugh (with me, not at me… I hope!), and it’s all in good fun.
2. No pressure: No one expects me to lead, execute complicated steps, or even stay on beat. It’s incredibly liberating!
3. Great exercise: All that flailing and gyrating burns some serious calories, and who needs a gym membership when you can dance like nobody’s watching (even though they totally are)?
Finding Freedom in the Flailing: A Lesson in Self-Acceptance

Being a terrible dancer has taught me more than just how to clear a room with my moves. It’s taught me to laugh at myself, embrace my imperfections, and find joy in the unexpected. It’s a reminder that life’s too short to take ourselves too seriously, and sometimes, the best thing you can do is let loose and dance like a total goofball.

March 9, 2025
The Unspoken Language of Grocery Store Lines

The Great Watermelon Standoff of ’23

Okay, picture this: It’s a sweltering summer day, I’m craving nothing more than juicy watermelon, and I’ve finally snagged the perfect one. I triumphantly wheel my cart towards the checkout, only to be met with the dreaded… LINES. Multiple lines, all seemingly equal in length, a minefield of indecision. This, my friends, is where the unspoken language of grocery store lines comes into play.

Choosing the Right Checkout Line: A Calculated Risk

Choosing your line is like a game of chance, a gamble based on subtle cues and gut feelings. Do you go for the line with the single dad juggling a toddler, a dozen eggs, and a gallon of milk? Surely, that’s a recipe for disaster, right? Or do you brave the line with the sweet old lady meticulously counting out pennies? Every choice feels loaded, and the pressure is REAL.

Then there’s the art of “line reading.” You start analyzing the contents of everyone’s baskets. The person with the overflowing cart? AVOID. The college student with a single bag of chips? Jackpot! You develop a sixth sense for spotting the express lane masquerading as a regular one. It’s practically an Olympic sport.

March 9, 2025
The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

The Day My Socks Sparked an Existential Crisis

There I was, knee-deep in a mountain of mismatched socks (seriously, where does the other one even go?), when it hit me: laundry is basically a metaphor for life.

Okay, maybe not basically. But hear me out! Between separating colors, battling stubborn stains, and folding fitted sheets (the bane of my existence), laundry day provides ample time for reflection. And sometimes, those reflections go a little something like this…

The Circle of Life (and Denim)

Watching the washing machine churn through a cycle is strangely hypnotic. It’s like a microcosm of existence—dirty clothes go in, get tossed around in the chaotic whirlwind of life (and detergent), and emerge cleansed and renewed.

March 9, 2025
The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Folding Laundry
The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Folding Laundry

We all have those tasks, the ones our brains seem hardwired to turn into autopilot. For me, it’s folding laundry. I swear, the minute my hands touch a warm, fresh-out-the-dryer towel, my mind goes on a tangent wilder than a toddler hopped up on juice boxes.

The Great Sock Paradox

Just yesterday, I was knee-deep in a mountain of mismatched socks. Seriously, where does the other sock go? Is there a sock monster living in my dryer, hoarding them for some nefarious sock-puppet show? As I frantically searched for the mate to a particularly fuzzy sock (you know the one, the kind that feels like a cloud decided to hug your foot), a terrifying thought hit me: What if I’m the sock monster in someone else’s life? What if, in some parallel universe, there’s a version of me lamenting the disappearance of a sock that’s currently chilling in my drawer, blissfully unaware of the existential crisis it’s causing?
sock drawer the same way since.

Life Lessons We Can Learn from a Fitted Sheet

We’ve all been there. You triumphantly pull a fitted sheet out of the dryer, feeling like you’ve conquered some Herculean laundry task. But then, as you try to wrangle the unruly beast into submission, the frustration mounts. It’s like trying to fold a cloud while riding a unicycle—difficult, confusing, and slightly embarrassing.

But the other day, mid-struggle with a particularly stubborn sheet, it hit me: Aren’t we all a bit like fitted sheets? We’re awkwardly shaped, prone to wrinkles, and sometimes it takes a bit of effort (and maybe some help from a patient friend) to get us looking somewhat presentable.

Maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s the imperfections that make us interesting, the wrinkles that tell our stories. Or maybe I’m just trying to justify the fact that my linen closet looks like a fabric tornado ripped through it. Either way, it was a profound thought… for a Tuesday morning, while wrestling with bed linens.

The Curious Case of the Missing Shirt Button

This one’s a classic. You’re folding laundry, minding your own business, when BAM! You find it—a shirt button, lying there like a tiny, forgotten soldier separated from its regiment. And suddenly, you’re hit with a wave of questions:
- When did this button stage its great escape?
- Was it a dramatic leap of faith, or a slow, agonizing unraveling?
- And most importantly, whose shirt is now one button closer to indecent exposure?
March 9, 2025
The Great Phone Number Mix-Up of 2023 (and Why I Still Answer to ‘Brenda’)
We’ve all been there. You’re going about your day, innocently sipping your coffee, when suddenly your phone erupts with the shrill cry of a wrong number. Maybe it’s a confused grandma looking for “Timmy,” or a teenager desperately trying to reach “Chad.” Usually, a quick “You’ve got the wrong number” suffices, and you move on with your life. But friends, my story? Oh, it’s a saga.

The Day My Phone Became a Portal to Brenda‘s World

It all started innocently enough. A call from an unknown number. I answered with my usual, “Hello?” A chipper voice on the other end chirped, “Hi Brenda! It’s Cindy from [Insurance Company I Will Not Name]. Are you still interested in that life insurance quote?”

Now, I’m about as far from a “Brenda” as you can get. My name is decidedly not Brenda. It’s not even close to Brenda. So, I politely informed Cindy that she had the wrong number. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she chirped, and that, I thought, was that.

The Calls That Launched a Thousand Wrong Numbers

Reader, I was wrong. So, so wrong. Over the next few weeks, my phone became a hotline to Brenda’s life. I received calls from:
- The pharmacy reminding “Brenda” to pick up her prescription.
- A frantic woman claiming to be Brenda’s sister, demanding to know why Brenda hadn’t picked up her kids from soccer practice.
- And yes, dear reader, even more calls from Cindy from [Insurance Company I Will Not Name], each time more insistent than the last that Brenda needed to secure her future.
March 9, 2025