Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: lifestyle blog

  • The Time I Tried to Be a Minimalist and Failed Miserably

    The Time I Tried to Be a Minimalist and Failed Miserably




    The Time I Tried to Be a Minimalist and Failed Miserably


    My Closet of Broken Dreams (and Way Too Many Shoes)

    We’ve all seen those aspirational photos, haven’t we? The ones with the pristine white walls, a single plant, and a wardrobe consisting of precisely seven items (all in neutral tones, of course). I, my friends, am not one of those people. My ideal aesthetic is less “serene sanctuary” and more “eclectic vintage shop exploded.” But, like any good millennial with an internet connection, I decided to give minimalism a try.

    minimalist havens I’d seen online. And then reality set in.

    Turns out, I actually use most of my stuff. That “random assortment of buttons” I almost tossed? Yeah, those came in handy when a favorite cardigan lost a button. And those paint-splattered sweatpants? They’re perfect for my new artistic hobby (which, ironically, involves creating maximalist collages).

    Minimalism: Is It Really All It’s Cracked Up To Be?

    My minimalist experiment crashed and burned faster than you can say “spark joy.” I realized that while I admire the discipline and intentionality of minimalism, it’s just not for me. I like my quirky collections, my colorful wardrobe, and yes, even my random assortment of buttons.

    Here’s what I did learn though:

    • Decluttering feels amazing – even if you don’t go full minimalist.
    • It’s okay to keep things that bring you joy, even if they’re not “practical.”
    • There’s a big difference between minimalism as an aesthetic and minimalism as a lifestyle. You can appreciate the former without subscribing to the latter.
  • 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 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 Plant is Secretly Judging Me (and You)

    Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me (and You)




    Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me (and You)


    We all know that plants bring life to a room, purify the air, and look pretty darn stylish on a shelf. But have you ever stopped to consider that they might also be silently judging your every move?

    The Day My Succulent Sided-Eyed Me

    It all started last week. I was in my usual morning frenzy – hair resembling a bird’s nest, desperately searching for matching socks, spilling coffee on the counter (again!). As I scrambled to clean up the latest caffeine casualty, I caught a glimpse of my succulent, Gerald.

    Now, Gerald isn’t just any succulent. He’s a proud, spiky specimen with a stubborn refusal to grow in any direction except directly at me. As I met his gaze (or what I swear was a pointed glare), I realized something. Gerald didn’t look impressed. In fact, he looked downright judgmental.

    Gerald had seen enough. He was silently questioning my ability to adult, and honestly? I didn’t blame him.

    Signs Your Plant is Secretly Judging You

    Since my epiphany with Gerald, I’ve started noticing it everywhere. The way my peace lily seems to wilt dramatically after a particularly stressful phone call. The suspicious way my spider plant seems to “accidentally” drop a leaf whenever I attempt to sing along to the radio. They’re onto us, people!

    Don’t believe me? Here’s a list of irrefutable evidence that your plant is judging you too:

    • Sudden Drooping: Let’s be real, sometimes we say things we shouldn’t. But did you ever notice how your plant seems to dramatically wilt the moment you utter that particularly harsh piece of gossip? Coincidence? I think not.
    • Suspicious Growth Spurts: You know that feeling of accomplishment when you finally tackle that pile of laundry you’ve been ignoring for weeks? Notice how your plant seems to magically sprout a new leaf right after? They’re watching, and they approve (for now).
    • The Unwavering Stare: Let’s face it, plants are masters of the side-eye. That unblinking gaze seems innocent enough, but I’m convinced they’re analyzing our every move, silently judging our life choices one watering at a time.

    They’ve Seen Things, Man

  • Is My Houseplant Silently Judging My Life Choices? (The Evidence is Compelling)

    Is My Houseplant Silently Judging My Life Choices? (The Evidence is Compelling)

    Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (The Evidence is Compelling)

    We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a true crime documentary marathon, when you suddenly feel a presence. You glance around, expecting to see a nosy neighbor peering through the window, but then you lock eyes with… your houseplant. And in that moment, you just know it’s judging you.

    Does Your Houseplant Give You the Side-Eye?

    Okay, maybe “judging” is a strong word. But I swear, my Monstera Deliciosa, Ferdinand, has perfected the art of the side-eye. It’s especially potent when I’m indulging in my less-than-ideal habits. You know, like attempting (and failing) to make three-course meals from those meal kit services, or letting laundry pile up until it resembles Mount Washmore.

    Ferdinand‘s leaves drooping lower than usual. Coincidence? I think not. He’d heard my cynical commentary and decided love was officially dead.

    My Plant’s Perfect Routine vs. My Chaotic Life

    Another reason for my suspicions? Ferdinand is the epitome of consistency. He thrives on routine, soaking up his weekly watering and basking in the sunlight streaming through my living room window. I, on the other hand, am more of a “fly by the seat of my pants” kind of gal. My sleep schedule is a suggestion, my diet is questionable at best, and my apartment cleaning routine? Let’s just say Ferdinand has witnessed things…

    He’s like the silent, leafy embodiment of all the things I should be doing: drinking enough water, getting eight hours of sleep, maybe even developing a green thumb of my own (a girl can dream, right?).

    Did My Houseplant Just Show Signs of Approval?

    And then there’s the evidence that really solidified my theory. A few weeks ago, after a particularly productive day where I actually, you know, adult-ed, I noticed something amazing. Ferdinand had sprouted a new leaf! It was vibrant green, reaching towards the sunlight like a tiny, triumphant flag.