Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: lifestyle

  • 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 seen them – those infuriatingly chipper morning people who practically skip out of bed with the sunrise, chirping about how “great it is to be up early!” Meanwhile, I’m usually peeling myself out of bed after hitting snooze for the tenth time, wondering if it’s socially acceptable to wear pajamas to work.

    The Pact (and My Unrealistic Expectations)

    My journey into the supposed utopia of early rising began, as most bad decisions do, with a conversation over coffee – well, more accurately, over my third cup of coffee while my friend, let’s call her Sunshine Sally, sipped her green smoothie.

    “You know,” Sally chirped, “You’d be so much more productive if you woke up early!”

    Thus began our pact. We’d both wake up at 6 am, go for a jog, and have a healthy breakfast. I even bought a juicer.

    person: energized, productive, and maybe even capable of making my own sourdough bread before work.

    Day 1: The Alarm Clock Becomes My Nemesis

    The first morning arrived, and my alarm clock (which I swear was judging me) blared its obnoxious wake-up call. I stumbled out of bed, feeling like I had just fallen asleep. My attempt at a “jog” resembled something closer to a zombie shuffle.

    Sally, naturally, was already back from her run, looking annoyingly refreshed. She greeted me with a perky, “Good morning! How was your run?”

    I mumbled something about “enjoying the fresh air” while mentally composing a strongly worded letter to the inventor of the alarm clock.

    Day 3: The Great Coffee Caper

    The next few days followed a similar pattern of sleep deprivation and failed attempts at athleticism. By day three, I was running on fumes and caffeine. I even resorted to hiding emergency coffee stashes around my apartment for those pre-dawn moments of desperation.

  • My Kitchen Catastrophe: The Time I Tried to Impress a Date with My (Non-Existent) Cooking Skills

    My Kitchen Catastrophe: The Time I Tried to Impress a Date with My (Non-Existent) Cooking Skills




    My Kitchen Catastrophe: The Time I Tried to Impress a Date with My (Non-Existent) Cooking Skills


    The Art of Deception (or Lack Thereof)

    We’ve all been there. That moment when you’re trying to impress someone new and you accidentally let slip a talent you definitely don’t possess. For me, it was cooking. You see, I’m a master of the microwave, a connoisseur of takeout menus, but a chef? Not so much. Yet, there I was, on a third date with the charming and witty Alex, promising a “home-cooked meal.” What was I thinking?

    Alex, ever the gentleman, jumped up to help, fanning the smoke detector with a dish towel while I frantically tried to salvage the charred remains of our dinner.

    Salvation in a Pizza Box: From Kitchen Fail to Funny Story

    With the kitchen looking like a battleground and the smell of burnt potatoes lingering in the air, I had to face the music. Defeated, I confessed my culinary shortcomings to Alex, who surprised me by bursting into laughter. “Don’t worry,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I know the best pizza place in town.” And just like that, our disastrous date took a turn for the better. We ended up ordering pizza, sharing stories, and laughing about my epic kitchen fail.

  • 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 seen them – those mythical creatures who bound out of bed at the crack of dawn, practically vibrating with energy and cheer. They’re the ones posting sunrise yoga selfies while I’m hitting the snooze button for the third time, convinced the sun is personally attacking me.

    For years, I’ve watched these morning people with a mixture of envy and suspicion. Surely, they’re not human, right? But a tiny voice inside me whispered, “Maybe…just maybe…you could be one of them too.”

    The Great Morning Person Experiment Begins

    Armed with the unyielding optimism of someone who has clearly never experienced 6 am, I decided to embark on a journey of self-improvement disguised as “The Great Morning Person Experiment.” I envisioned myself jogging in the crisp morning air, sipping green smoothies, and generally being one of those annoyingly productive people you see in motivational stock photos.

  • The Ultimate Guide to Building a Capsule Wardrobe for Any Lifestyle

    The Ultimate Guide to Building a Capsule Wardrobe for Any Lifestyle





    Introduction

    Tired of staring into a closet full of clothes, yet feeling like you have nothing to wear? You’re not alone. The average American woman owns 30 outfits but considers 75% of their wardrobe “dead weight.” Enter the capsule wardrobe: a curated collection of versatile, high-quality pieces that can be mixed and matched to create countless outfits.

    This minimalist approach to fashion offers numerous benefits, from saving time and money to reducing decision fatigue and promoting sustainability. This ultimate guide will equip you with the knowledge and tools to build a capsule wardrobe tailored to your unique lifestyle.

    Building Your Dream Capsule Wardrobe: A Step-by-Step Guide

    1. Define Your Lifestyle and Style

    A successful capsule wardrobe starts with understanding your daily activities and personal style. Consider these factors:

    • Occupation: Do you work in a corporate setting, a creative field, or from home?
    • Social Life: Do you prefer casual gatherings, formal events, or a mix of both?
    • Hobbies: Do you engage in sports, outdoor activities, or artistic pursuits?
    • Personal Style: Are you drawn to classic elegance, bohemian chic, minimalist aesthetics, or something else entirely?
  • The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and How It Saved Me From Becoming a Crazy Cat Lady)

    The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and How It Saved Me From Becoming a Crazy Cat Lady)





    From Feline Fantasy to Frond Fanatic

    I used to be that girl. You know the one—obsessed with cat videos, dreaming of fluffy felines curled up on my lap. I envisioned a life filled with purrs, cuddles, and maybe a little playful chaos. But then, life, as it often does, took an unexpected turn. My shoebox apartment (seriously, it was tiny!) wouldn’t accommodate my feline fantasies. Dejected, I almost resigned myself to a life of spinsterhood, surrounded by cats I didn’t even have.

    Then, one fateful day, I wandered into a plant shop. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and something green and alive. Sunlight streamed through the leaves, casting intricate shadows on the floor. And there, nestled among the ferns and succulents, I found my calling. Or rather, my calling found me.

    Plant Parent Mishaps)

    My journey into plant parenthood wasn’t without its bumps. In the beginning, I was a notorious over-waterer. My poor peace lily, bless its heart, looked perpetually drowned. Then there was the time I nearly scorched my spider plant to a crisp by placing it too close to the window. (Turns out, direct sunlight isn’t always a plant’s best friend.)

    But slowly, through trial and error (mostly error, let’s be honest), I began to understand the subtle language of my leafy companions. I learned to decipher the droop of a thirsty leaf from the yellowing of one that had had a bit too much to drink. I discovered the joy of watching a new leaf unfurl, a tiny testament to my nurturing (or at least, my ability to keep it alive).

    My Indoor Jungle: Why Plants Are Better Than Pets

    Now, my apartment is a jungle—in the best way possible. I’ve got trailing pothos cascading from shelves, a majestic monstera claiming its territory in the corner, and a collection of succulents that could rival a desert landscape (though hopefully less prickly).

    And you know what? I wouldn’t trade my plant family for all the catnip in the world. They may not greet me with purrs at the door, but they fill my home with life and a sense of calm that no cat video could ever replicate. Plus, they’re far less likely to cough up hairballs on my favorite rug.

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

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



    morning people who seem to have it all together. You know the ones – they’re jogging in the park while the sun rises, green smoothie in hand, already halfway through their to-do list before you’ve even hit snooze for the third time.

    Operation: Sunshine and Smiles (aka My Failed Morning Routine Experiment)

    One particularly unproductive evening (or should I say, early morning), I decided enough was enough. Inspired by a particularly convincing self-help article, I vowed to become one of them – a morning person. I envisioned myself greeting the day with open arms, a serene smile, and a newfound zest for life. Oh, the naive optimism!

    Armed with a chirpy alarm clock (set for the ungodly hour of 6 AM), a brand-new meditation app, and a fridge stocked with enough kale to choke a rhinoceros, I embarked on my journey to the land of the morning people. What could possibly go wrong?

    Day 3: Caffeine Overload and My Downfall as a Morning Person

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

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





    We’ve all been there. Scrolling through social media, comparing our lives to perfectly curated feeds, and suddenly…bam. The crushing realization that even our houseplants are judging our life choices.

    Okay, maybe not. But hear me out.

    The Day My Plant Parent Guilt Took Root

    It all started innocently enough. I was watering Beatrice (yes, she has a name, don’t judge), my prize-winning peace lily, when I noticed something unsettling. Her leaves, once droopy and on the verge of a dramatic fainting episode, were now perky and vibrant, practically glowing with good health.

    Meanwhile, I was surviving on coffee and dry cereal, hadn’t seen the sun in days thanks to a brutal deadline, and couldn’t remember the last time I watered myself, let alone practiced self-care.

    choices.

    Exhibit A: My Friend’s Perfect Fiddle Leaf Fig (and Life)

    My suspicions grew when I visited my friend, Sarah. Now, Sarah is the epitome of organization and balance. Her life is a Pinterest board come to life, complete with a successful career, a fulfilling social life, and a home that looks like it belongs in a magazine.

    And her houseplants? Don’t even get me started.

    Her fiddle leaf fig, notoriously finicky and prone to drama, was a towering testament to her plant parenting prowess. It was practically touching her ceiling, its leaves a vibrant emerald green, with nary a brown spot in sight.

  • 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 seen them. Those mythical creatures who bound out of bed at dawn, chirping about sunshine and possibilities. They sip green smoothies with alarming perkiness while the rest of us are just trying to remember how to operate the coffee machine. Yes, I’m talking about morning people.

    My Pact With the Alarm Clock (Spoiler: It Didn’t End Well)

    It all started innocently enough. I was reading an article about the numerous benefits of waking up early: increased productivity, reduced stress levels, the ability to speak fluent unicorn, you name it. I, seduced by the promise of achieving peak human potential, decided to make a change. No more hitting snooze until the last possible second. I was going to become a morning person, dammit!

    alarm for the ungodly hour of 6:00 am and prepared for a new me. My plan was foolproof (or so I thought):

    1. Wake up when the alarm goes off (no negotiating!).
    2. Drink a tall glass of lemon water while basking in the morning sun (or, you know, staring bleary-eyed out the window).
    3. Go for a jog while listening to uplifting music (because nothing says “I love mornings!” like pretending you’re in a montage sequence).

    The first morning was rough. Like, sandpaper-on-your-eyeballs rough. I stumbled through my morning routine, feeling more like a zombie than a beacon of productivity. The lemon water tasted suspiciously like betrayal, and my “jog” resembled a slow-motion interpretive dance of someone who desperately needed caffeine.

    The Universe Had Other Plans for My Inner Early Bird

    Things went downhill from there. I started setting two alarms, then three, just to ensure I actually woke up. I accidentally put my shirt on inside out more times than I’d like to admit. And don’t even get me started on the day I poured orange juice into my coffee mug.

  • 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)

    The Great Dawn Experiment

    Let me preface this by saying I love the idea of mornings. That crisp air, the promise of a fresh start, the smugness of being “ahead” of the day…it all sounds lovely. In theory. In reality, I’m more of a “wake up with bed hair and the faint scent of last night‘s pizza” kind of gal.

    But a few weeks ago, I stumbled across one too many articles praising the productivity and overall zen of morning people. I’d be healthier, wealthier, and possibly sprout a third arm (okay, maybe not that last one) if I just embraced the sunrise, they promised. So, I did what any self-respecting skeptic would do: I embarked on a social experiment. I, a certified night owl, would become a morning person. For science. And, you know, the potential for extra limbs.

    Phase 1: Rise and…Regret?

    My alarm clock, usually relegated to the dusty corner of my nightstand, was given a place of honor. 6:00 AM. The audacity. The first morning was rough, like waking up in a parallel universe where the sun was a cruel joke and coffee hadn’t been invented yet. I stumbled through a yoga routine (read: awkwardly flailed around) while my cat gave me a judgmental stare.

    morning staring blankly at my computer screen, occasionally nodding off and startling myself awake. On the plus side, I discovered a newfound appreciation for the snooze button.

    Phase 2: Embrace the Caffeine (and the Chaos)

    Week two, and I realized I needed reinforcements. Enter: industrial-sized coffee maker. My caffeine intake reached new heights, as did my anxiety levels. I was a whirlwind of nervous energy, cleaning my apartment at lightning speed, then forgetting where I’d put my keys five minutes later.

    My attempt at a healthy breakfast (a smoothie, because that’s what healthy morning people do, right?) ended disastrously. Let’s just say my blender and I had a difference of opinion on the appropriate speed setting.

  • The Time I Tried to Be a Morning Person (Spoiler Alert: It Backfired)

    The Time I Tried to Be a Morning Person (Spoiler Alert: It Backfired)





    The Pre-Dawn Pact I Made (and Immediately Regretted)

    Let me set the scene: It’s 5:30 AM, the sun is barely a rumor behind the curtains, and my alarm clock is chirping obnoxiously. Now, for most normal, functioning humans, this might be a typical Tuesday. For me, however, this was a declaration of war on my very nature. You see, I am, and have always been, a card-carrying member of the Night Owls Society. My brain fires on all cylinders at 2:00 AM, I get my best writing done when the moon is high, and the mere thought of a 6:00 AM workout used to send shivers down my spine.

    But then, it happened. I stumbled across one of those articles – you know the ones – with titles like “10 Habits of Ridiculously Productive People” or “How Waking Up Early Changed My Life (and It Can Change Yours Too!).” Lured by the siren song of increased productivity and maybe even a shot at early-bird discounts at my local bakery, I decided to make a change. I, dear reader, was going to become a Morning Person™.

    Person Mishaps

    My transformation started out surprisingly well. I woke up at the ungodly hour of 6:00 AM (a full hour earlier than my usual wake-up time!), made myself a smoothie (that I may or may not have spilled on myself due to my still-dormant motor skills), and even attempted some light yoga (let’s just say my downward dog looked more like a confused dachshund).

    However, this newfound productivity was short-lived. My early morning jog felt more like a death march, my attempts at creative writing produced sentences like “The sky was blue, but also kind of sleepy,” and I spent an embarrassing amount of time staring blankly into the abyss of my refrigerator, convinced I had forgotten how to make coffee.

    The final straw came during an important work meeting. I, fueled by a potent combination of sleep deprivation and an ill-advised amount of coffee, somehow managed to confuse the CEO with a potted plant during my presentation. Needless to say, my dreams of impressing the higher-ups with my newfound morning-person energy went down in flames (along with my reputation, probably).

    Embracing My Inner Night Owl (and My Snooze Button)

    After a solid week of pre-dawn misery, I finally surrendered to the undeniable truth: I am not, nor will I ever be, a morning person. I accepted that my creativity thrives after the sun sets, that my ideal breakfast involves copious amounts of coffee, and that my sleep-deprived self poses a danger to both office plants and corporate presentations.

    So, I returned to my beloved snooze button, embraced the quiet productivity of the late-night hours, and left the sunrise yoga and green smoothies to those who actually function before noon. And you know what? I’ve never been happier (or more well-rested).