Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: humor writing

  • My Phone Charger: A Modern Greek Tragedy (and Other Tales of Tech Treachery)

    My Phone Charger: A Modern Greek Tragedy (and Other Tales of Tech Treachery)

    My Phone Charger: A Modern Greek Tragedy (and Other Tales of Tech Treachery)

    phone chargers to outsmarting autocorrect’s questionable vocabulary.

    The Neverending Struggle with Phone Chargers

    We’ve all been there. That moment of panic when your phone screen dims to black, displaying the dreaded low battery symbol. You frantically search for your charger, only to find it tangled in a knot worthy of Houdini himself.

    Just me? Okay, maybe it’s not a universal experience, but my phone charger and I have a love-hate relationship that would make even the most dramatic reality show jealous. It’s a constant battle of wills, and let’s just say, the charger usually wins.

    The Case of the Vanishing Wifi

    Of course, my technological woes don’t stop at a tangled charger. Oh no, that would be far too simple. There’s also the mysterious case of the vanishing wifi. You know what I’m talking about. You’re in the middle of something incredibly important – an online meeting, a tense game of Wordscapes, watching the climax of your favorite show – and BAM! The internet decides to take an unannounced vacation.

    Cue the frantic restarting of the router, the desperate pleas to the wifi gods, and the inevitable descent into mild panic. And then, just as suddenly as it disappeared, the internet returns, leaving you blinking at the screen in disbelief, wondering if it was all a strange dream.

    Autocorrect: Friend or Foe?

    And let’s not forget everyone’s favorite technological frenemy: autocorrect. This little feature is like that well-meaning but slightly clueless friend who always manages to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

    I’m sure we all have a collection of hilarious autocorrect fails. Like the time I tried to text my friend “I’m on my way!” but autocorrect, in its infinite wisdom, decided “I’m on my walrus!” was a more appropriate message.

    Or the time it changed “Let’s grab coffee” to “Let’s grab crocodiles.” (Honestly, who even talks about crocodiles that much?)

    Autocorrect, I appreciate the effort, but sometimes you’re just making things weird.

    The Tech Struggle Is Real, But So Is the Laughter

    So, there you have it, a glimpse into the chaotic world of my technological misadventures. I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels like they’re engaged in a constant battle with their devices. But you know what? As frustrating as these tech fails can be, they also provide endless fodder for laughter and stories to tell.

    What about you? What’s your most hilarious tale of technology gone rogue? Share your stories in the comments below because misery loves company, and laughter is always the best tech support!

  • The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Etiquette (And Why I Break Every Single One)

    The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Etiquette (And Why I Break Every Single One)



    My Cart, My Chaos: Embracing Grocery Shopping Anarchy

    Okay, picture this: It’s 7 p.m. on a Tuesday, the witching hour between work and dinner. I’m at the grocery store, famished, and my shopping list is a sad collection of scribbles on the back of a receipt. I’m pretty sure “bananas?” is on there somewhere.

    We’ve all been there, right? But here’s where my story veers off the well-paved path of grocery store decorum. You see, I’m that person. The one whose cart is a chaotic jumble of produce, toiletries, and a rogue bag of gummy bears (don’t judge). I’m a walking, talking violation of every unspoken grocery store rule, and frankly, I’m not sure I care.

    grocery shopping: going the wrong way down a one-way aisle. Oh, the shame! The glares! The passive-aggressive throat-clearing!

    Listen, I get it. Efficiency is important. But sometimes, you just need that jar of olives from the top shelf, and the thought of navigating an entire loop of the store feels like climbing Mount Everest with a shopping cart. So, I break the rules. I smile apologetically, I execute a graceful (or maybe not-so-graceful) three-point turn, and I grab my olives. Because life’s too short for aisle-induced anxiety, am I right?

    The Siren Song of Free Samples: My Grocery Store Weakness

    Ah, samples. Those tiny, tempting morsels of culinary delight strategically placed to lure us in like moths to a flame. We all know the rules: one per person, maybe two if you’re feeling bold. But me? I have the self-control of a toddler in a candy store.

    Mini quiches? Yes, please! Tiny cups of mango salsa? Don’t mind if I do! I’m pretty sure I’ve single-handedly kept the sample lady employed on more than one occasion. Is it wrong? Probably. Do I regret it? Not even a little bit. (Okay, maybe a little bit when my stomach starts making questionable noises.)

  • The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Navigation (And Why I’m Always Stuck Behind Someone Reading Every Cereal Box)

    The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Navigation (And Why I’m Always Stuck Behind Someone Reading Every Cereal Box)



    The Case of the Vanishing Cart Space

    We’ve all been there. It’s Tuesday night, you’re out of milk, and the last thing you want is to navigate the grocery store. But, alas, a trip to the land of overflowing shopping carts and questionable produce freshness is in order. You weave your way through the entrance, grab a cart (after the obligatory wheel wiggle to find a good one), and then it happens. You round the corner into the first aisle, only to slam on your mental (and almost literal) brakes. There, smack-dab in the middle of the aisle, is a person—nay, a grocery store black hole—perusing cereal boxes like they hold the secrets to the universe.

    grocery store navigation.

    Rule #1: Treat the Aisle Like a Highway, Not a Parking Lot

    Imagine this: you’re cruising down the highway, tunes blasting, when suddenly—bam!—traffic screeches to a halt. Turns out, someone decided to park their car in the middle of the lane to admire the scenery. Grocery aisles operate on a similar principle. Keep it moving, folks. Need to grab an item? Pull over to the side like a civilized shopper. Consulting your grocery list? That’s what the corners are for.

    Rule #2: Master the Art of the Cart Dance

    Ah, the cart dance. A delicate ballet performed by strangers in the dairy aisle. You know the drill: two carts, one narrow passage. Who goes first? Who makes the awkward side shuffle? This, my friends, is where unspoken communication (and a healthy dose of patience) comes in. A smile, a nod, a slight maneuver of the cart—these are the tools of a seasoned grocery store navigator. Bonus points for mastering the art of the “reverse cart scoot” when you inevitably pick the wrong line.

  • Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (Spoiler Alert: Probably)

    Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (Spoiler Alert: Probably)



    That Time My Plant Gave Me the Side-Eye

    I swear, it happened like this. I was sprawled on the couch, buried under a mountain of laundry (both clean and… otherwise), stress-eating leftover takeout, when I happened to glance at Phil. Yes, Phil, my majestic peace lily. He’s usually quite the agreeable housemate—low maintenance, quiet, and a master at photosynthesis. But this time, something was different. As I shamelessly shoved another forkful of noodles into my face, I caught his leaves… drooping? Was he… judging me?

    Phil has become increasingly aware of my life choices, and let’s just say, he’s not impressed.

    Signs Your Houseplant is Judging You: Exhibit A – The Neglected Watering Can

    I consider myself a plant enthusiast, really, I do! I mean, I own a watering can (singular, yes). But sometimes, life gets in the way. You know, things like binge-watching an entire season of a show in one sitting or perfecting my online shopping skills. So, when I finally remember Phil’s need for hydration, he’s usually drier than my sense of humor after a week of bad puns.

    As I drag myself over to the sink, I swear I can hear a heavy sigh. Then comes the slow, dramatic leaf wilt. “Look, I’m sorry!” I find myself apologizing, as if a plant can understand the complexities of my procrastination. “I promise to download a plant care app… eventually.” Phil, in all his leafy wisdom, remains unconvinced.

    Signs Your Houseplant is Judging You: Exhibit B – The Great Repotting Debacle

    Let’s talk about repotting. It’s a necessary evil, like going to the dentist or deciphering IKEA instructions. Phil had been sending out some pretty strong hints that he’d outgrown his humble abode. Namely, his roots were staging a hostile takeover through the drainage holes. So, one Saturday afternoon, I decided to tackle the task.

  • 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

    Confessions of a Laundry Philosopher

    The other day, I was knee-deep in a mountain of mismatched socks (seriously, where does the other one even go?) and staring down the barrel of a week’s worth of dirty laundry. As I separated lights from darks with the focus of a brain surgeon, a thought struck me:

    “Life is a lot like doing laundry.”

    Okay, I know what you’re thinking. “She’s finally cracked.” But hear me out! Laundry, much like life, is this never-ending cycle of sorting, washing, drying, and folding (or in my case, artfully draping clothes over furniture). And in those seemingly mundane moments, my friends, I’ve stumbled upon some surprisingly profound realizations.

    The Great Sock Mystery and Other Existential Laundry Crises

    Let’s start with the elusive sock enigma. Is there a black hole in my dryer specifically designed to devour single socks? Or is this some cruel cosmic joke? The world may never know.

  • The Day My Inner Voice Became an Actual Person (and Why I Now Need a Restraining Order)

    The Day My Inner Voice Became an Actual Person (and Why I Now Need a Restraining Order)



    The Day My Inner Voice Became a Person (and Why I Need a Restraining Order)

    We all have that voice inside our heads, right? That little narrator who provides a running commentary on our lives, offering unsolicited advice, witty comebacks we think of too late, and a whole lot of judgment. Well, mine decided to become a corporeal being. And friends, let me tell you, it’s been absolute chaos ever since.

    “You Should Really Get More Fiber” – My Inner Voice, Now Personified

    It started innocently enough. I was at the grocery store, agonizing over which brand of almond butter was ethically sourced and wouldn’t break the bank (adulting is hard, okay?). Suddenly, I heard a voice say, “You know, peanut butter is cheaper and has more protein.”

    I assumed it was just another grocery store philosopher, because those seem to be everywhere these days. But when I turned around, there was…no one. Just then, the voice whispered in my ear, “And you should really get more fiber in your diet.”

  • The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Navigation (And Why I Break Every Single One)

    The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Navigation (And Why I Break Every Single One)



    The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Navigation (And Why I Break Every Single One)

    Confessions of a Grocery Store Rebel

    The other day, I found myself zig-zagging through the dairy aisle with the grace of a rogue shopping cart, desperately seeking that elusive carton of oat milk. As I sidestepped a disgruntled shopper muttering about “aisle etiquette,” it hit me: grocery stores are riddled with unspoken rules.

    And you know me? I live to break them. (Quietly, of course. I’m not a monster.)

    Rule #1: The “Sacred Path” Is a Myth

    We’ve all seen it – the produce perimeter pilgrimage. You start with leafy greens, meander past the suspiciously shiny apples, and end up questioning your entire existence in the canned beans aisle. It’s practically grocery shopping scripture.

    Me? I’m a grocery store anarchist. I waltz past the kale and head straight for the frozen pizza. Why? Because sometimes, a girl just needs a break from adulting (and by “sometimes,” I mean “always”).

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

    Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me





    The Eyebrow Raise Heard ‘Round the Living Room

    I swear it happened. I was sprawled on the couch, shamelessly devouring a bag of chips (okay, fine, the entire family-sized bag), when I caught a glimpse of Oswald, my prized fiddle-leaf fig. He usually stands tall and proud, his leaves a vibrant emerald green. But in that moment, as I licked cheesy dust off my fingers, one of his leaves seemed to…droop. It was almost imperceptible, but I saw it. It was like an eyebrow raise of disapproval, a silent judgment of my questionable life choices.

    Oswald). But there’s something about the way he reacts to my presence, or lack thereof, that makes me question his true motives.

    Take last week, for example. I was swamped with deadlines, surviving on coffee and sheer willpower. Did I forget to water Oswald? Maybe. Was it an oversight of epic proportions, considering I pride myself on being a plant parent extraordinaire? Absolutely. But the way he dramatically wilted, leaves drooping like a Shakespearean actor in mourning, seemed a tad excessive. I’m pretty sure he waited until I was on an important video call, the picture of professional composure, before choosing that exact moment to stage his botanical meltdown. The timing was impeccable, and dare I say, a little passive-aggressive.

    Sun, Water, and Side-Eye?

    It’s not just the wilting, either. I swear Oswald strategically positions his leaves to catch me in compromising positions. Leaving dirty dishes in the sink overnight? BAM! A leaf blocks my reflection in the window, forcing me to confront my slovenly ways. Scrolling through social media instead of tackling the laundry pile? A strategically angled leaf casts a shadow that looks suspiciously like a disapproving headshake.

    Look, I know it’s ridiculous. Plants don’t judge. They don’t have the cognitive capacity for such complex emotions. But tell that to Oswald, who seems to communicate his disdain through a complex system of leaf angles and wilting variations.

  • Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me (and Other Tales of Domesticity)

    Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me (and Other Tales of Domesticity)




    The Side-Eye From a ZZ Plant

    “Did you water me today?” My boyfriend asks from the living room. I glance up from my laptop, squinting suspiciously at the large ZZ plant in the corner.

    “Maybe?” I reply, my voice laced with feigned innocence.

    He chuckles, used to my, shall we say, flexible approach to plant care. But here’s the thing: I swear that ZZ plant just gave me the side-eye. You know the one – a subtle tilt of the…leaf? Stem? Whatever. The point is, I could feel the judgment radiating from its vibrant green foliage. It’s moments like these that make me question if my plant has silently appointed itself the guardian of my domesticity (or lack thereof).

    Dust Bunny Rebellion

    Speaking of guardians, let’s talk about the dust bunnies. They’re not so much guardians as they are a mischievous army, constantly plotting to overthrow my semblance of order. I swear, I could spend an entire Saturday cleaning, and by Sunday morning, they’d be back – bigger, bolder, and multiplying at an alarming rate.

    I’ve tried everything: dusting sprays, microfiber cloths, even attempting to befriend a particularly fluffy specimen (it didn’t end well). But they persist, a constant reminder that in the epic battle between me and household chores, the dust bunnies might just be winning.

    The Case of the Missing Tupperware Lid

    And then there’s the mystery of the missing Tupperware lids. This, my friends, is a phenomenon that has plagued humankind since the invention of plastic containers. I’m convinced there’s a black hole somewhere in my kitchen, a vortex that sucks in Tupperware lids and spits out unmatched bottoms with reckless abandon.

    I’ve tried implementing systems – stacking, organizing by size, even labeling (yes, I know, I was desperate). But alas, the lids remain elusive, their whereabouts a mystery that may never be solved.

  • 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


    From Dirty Socks to Existential Crisis

    The other day, I was knee-deep in a mountain of laundry – you know, the kind that seems to magically multiply if you so much as glance away for a second? As I blindly searched for a matching sock (seriously, where do they go?), it hit me: laundry is basically a metaphor for life.

    Okay, maybe not basically. But hear me out! The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the mundane act of washing clothes could spark some surprisingly deep, albeit often hilarious, thoughts.

    Laundry‘s Unsolved Mysteries

    Let’s start with the obvious: the case of the missing socks. It’s a tale as old as time. You put two socks in the wash, and somehow, only one emerges from the dryer. Where does the other one go? Is there a sock-loving monster lurking in my dryer vent? Is there a parallel universe populated entirely by single socks, forever searching for their missing mates?

    And then there’s the age-old question: why is it impossible to fold a fitted sheet neatly on the first try? It’s like trying to wrangle a rogue octopus onto a Slip ‘N Slide. No matter how hard I try, it ends up looking like a crumpled mess. Is there a secret technique passed down through generations of laundry masters that I haven’t been let in on?

    Life Lessons from the Washing Machine: Finding Wisdom in Chores

    But it’s not all missing socks and laundry mishaps. Sometimes, amidst the detergent fumes and fabric softener sheets, I stumble upon genuine life lessons. For instance:

    • Embrace the cycle. Just like laundry, life has its cycles – ups and downs, dirty and clean. Sometimes, you just have to ride out the spin cycle and trust that things will eventually come out alright (even if they’re a little wrinkled).
    • Don’t be afraid to air your dirty laundry. We all have things we’d rather not show the world. But sometimes, the most liberating thing you can do is to air out those metaphorical dirty clothes. Talk to someone, seek help, or simply acknowledge what’s going on. Trust me, it feels good to let it all hang out (pun intended!).
    • The importance of proper care. Just like a delicate silk blouse, relationships require gentle handling and a little extra care. Ignoring them or treating them harshly will only lead to damage and heartache. So, be kind, communicate openly, and remember to fold with love (or something like that).