Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: relatable experience

  • The Unspoken Rules of Elevator Etiquette (and Why I Break Them All)

    The Unspoken Rules of Elevator Etiquette (and Why I Break Them All)



    My Personal Elevator Everest

    Let’s be honest, elevators are weird. They’re these metal boxes that transport us through the bowels of buildings, crammed with strangers we avoid eye contact with at all costs. And yet, there’s this invisible rulebook we’re all apparently handed at birth dictating how to navigate this 30-second journey without causing a social faux pas.

    Take, for instance, my latest elevator adventure. Picture this: I’m running late for a meeting (shocker, I know), coffee sloshing precariously in hand. I make it just as the doors are closing, flinging myself in with a breathless, “Hold the door!” Everyone stares. My triumphant grin falters. The weight of their judgment (or maybe it was just the awkward silence) felt heavier than my overflowing inbox.

    elevator etiquette violation. And you know what? I’m okay with that.

    The Silent Treatment: An Elevator Etiquette Faux Pas?

    Rule number one of Elevator Club: Thou shalt not speak. Apparently, engaging in conversation within the confines of an elevator is a social sin worthy of banishment to the basement (which, ironically, is where the elevator would probably take you anyway).

    Listen, I get it. We’re all tired, rushing to important meetings, or just trying to mentally prepare for whatever fresh hell awaits on the next floor. But can we at least acknowledge each other’s existence with a polite nod or a “Good morning”? Anything but the deafening silence that currently reigns supreme.

    Elevator Button Etiquette: To Press or Not to Press?

    Ah, the age-old question: Do you press the button for someone else, even if it means stretching your arm across their personal space bubble? Or do you just stand there awkwardly while they struggle to reach?

    Here’s my take: if you see someone struggling, offer to help! It’s a simple act of kindness that won’t result in you spontaneously combusting (probably). And if someone offers to press the button for you, accept their chivalry with grace. Unless they’re pressing all the buttons. Then run.

  • The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Navigation (And Why I Break Them All)

    The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Navigation (And Why I Break Them All)




    The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Navigation (And Why I Break Them All)


    The Produce Aisle Standoff: An Avocado Showdown

    Have you ever found yourself locked in a silent standoff with another shopper in the produce aisle? You know the one: you’re both eyeing the same perfect avocado, each pretending not to notice the other while subtly inching closer. Yeah, me too.

    It happened again last week. I was on a mission for guacamole ingredients, and there it was: the Holy Grail of avocados, perfectly ripe and just begging to be mashed. But wait. Another shopper had also spotted the prize. We circled each other like wary predators, our carts our chariots in this absurd territorial battle. Finally, I cracked. I reached out, snatched the avocado, and flashed a triumphant grin (okay, maybe it was more of a grimace). The look on the other shopper’s face? Priceless.

    Navigating the Dairy Dungeon: The Cart Conundrum

    We all know the unspoken rule of the dairy dungeon: Thou shalt not block the dairy aisle with thy cart. It’s a tight squeeze in there, and lingering too long while deciding between 2% and skim milk can feel like holding up a line of caffeine-deprived commuters.

    And yet, I confess: I am a dairy aisle dawdler. I can’t help it! The sheer variety of cheeses, yogurts, and milk alternatives sends me into a decision-making spiral. So, I’ve learned to embrace the “park and grab” technique. I park my cart perpendicular to the dairy aisle, creating a makeshift barrier (sorry, fellow shoppers!), and then I dart in and out, grabbing my dairy delights with the precision of a ninja.

    [IMAGE_DESCRIPTION: A person dramatically raising their arms in victory after successfully using the express lane with too many items]
  • The Day My Inner Voice Became a Real Person (and Why I Kind of Hate It)

    The Day My Inner Voice Became a Real Person (and Why I Kind of Hate It)


    We all have that little voice inside our heads, right? The one that narrates our lives, offers (often unwanted) opinions, and occasionally bursts into song at the most inopportune moments. Well, mine decided to become a real person. And no, it’s not nearly as cool as it sounds.

    “You’re Wearing *That*?” – The Day My Inner Critic Came to Life

    It all started innocently enough. I was staring into my closet, crippled by the age-old question: “What do I wear?” Suddenly, a voice boomed from the corner, “Seriously? The floral dress again? You look like a walking garden gnome.”

    I whirled around, expecting to see a judgmental fashionista, but there was… nothing. Just a pile of neglected gym clothes silently judging me from the floor. That’s when it hit me: my inner voice had somehow manifested in the real world. And it sounded suspiciously like my snarky Aunt Mildred.

  • Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Judging My Life Choices

    Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Judging My Life Choices



    We’ve all been there, right? Staring out the window at 3 a.m., questioning every decision that led us to this very moment. But lately, I’ve started to suspect I’m not alone in these introspective spirals. No, it’s not a roommate (thankfully, I outgrew those in my early twenties), but something much quieter, much greener, and infinitely more passive-aggressive: my houseplant, Herbert.

    When Your Houseplant Gives You the Side-Eye: Herbert‘s Silent Judgement

    It all started subtly. I’d be on a dating app, swiping left on a series of increasingly questionable profiles (let’s just say, “aspiring poet” doesn’t hold the same allure it did in college), and I’d catch Herbert’s leaves drooping lower than usual. At first, I chalked it up to needing water or perhaps a bit more sunlight. But then came the night of the disastrous Zoom date.

    Picture this: I’m mid-sentence, attempting to charm this poor woman with my sparkling wit (or so I thought), when my internet connection decided to take a nosedive. And not just a regular dip in service—a full-blown digital blackout. I’m talking frozen screens, robotic voices, the whole shebang. By the time I managed to reconnect, my date looked like she wanted to crawl through the screen and personally strangle my router.

    A healthy, thriving houseplant in a pot.
  • My Love-Hate Relationship with Voice Notes (and Why I Still Send Them)

    My Love-Hate Relationship with Voice Notes (and Why I Still Send Them)

    My Love-Hate Relationship with Voice Notes (and Why I Still Send Them)

    The Day Voice Notes Almost Ruined My Life (It Wasn’t That Serious)

    Picture this: I’m elbow-deep in a bag of chips, engrossed in the latest true crime documentary, when my phone buzzes. It’s a voice note from my best friend. “Ooh,” I think, “juicy gossip!” I press play, expecting a thrilling tale of romantic mishaps or workplace drama. Instead, I’m subjected to three minutes of incoherent rambling about a sale at the grocery store. Don’t get me wrong, I love my friend, but three minutes of my life I’ll never get back! That, my friends, is the double-edged sword of the voice note.

    Voice Notes: The Good, the Bad, and the Hilarious

    We’ve all been there. Sometimes, a voice note is a godsend. Need to relay a long, complicated story on the go? Voice note! Want to share your excitement about finding the perfect avocado at the supermarket? Voice note! However, like any powerful tool, it can be misused.

    Take, for instance, the time my dad sent me a voice note instead of just answering my question. “Hey Dad,” I texted, “what’s the wifi password again?” What followed was a 47-second audio odyssey, complete with dramatic pauses and heavy breathing, as he navigated to the router and read the password out loud…one agonizing…character…at…a…time.

    And then there’s the infamous “accidental voice note.” We’ve all sent them (or been on the receiving end). Those snippets of background noise, muffled conversations, or worse – embarrassing singing – that make you want to disappear into the floor. Yes, voice notes can be a minefield of awkwardness.

    Why I Still Hit “Send” on That Voice Note

    So, why, you ask, do I subject myself and others to this emotional rollercoaster? Well, despite their pitfalls, I can’t deny the appeal of voice notes. Here’s why:

    • They’re personal: Hearing someone’s voice adds a level of warmth and connection that text just can’t replicate. It’s like a mini-conversation, without the pressure of real-time responses.
    • They’re efficient (sometimes): Let’s be honest, typing is so last century. Sometimes, it’s just faster and easier to blurt out your thoughts into the void (er, I mean, to your friend).
    • They’re entertaining: Let’s face it, some of my most hilarious conversations have been immortalized in voice note form. From silly accents to dramatic retellings, they’re like little audio time capsules of laughter.
  • 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 Unexpected Life Lesson I Learned from a Lost Sock

    The Unexpected Life Lesson I Learned from a Lost Sock




    The Case of the Missing Sock

    We’ve all been there. You’re pairing up socks after laundry, feeling like you’re running a small-scale matchmaking service for your feet, and then it happens—you’re left holding a single sock, its mate mysteriously vanished. It’s a universal conundrum, a domestic head-scratcher that has plagued humanity since the invention of the sock drawer (probably).

    Just last week, I was struck by this age-old dilemma. I held a single argyle sock, its vibrant green and navy pattern mocking me. Where had its partner gone? Did it elope with a dryer sheet, seeking a life of lint-free bliss? Had it been sucked into a vortex behind the washing machine, doomed to wander a parallel universe populated by dust bunnies and misplaced Tupperware lids?

    sock into my designated “sock orphanage” drawer (don’t judge, we all have our quirks), a strange thing happened. Instead of feeling mildly annoyed, I found myself contemplating a deeper meaning behind this missing-sock phenomenon.

    Embracing Imperfection: A Life Lesson from a Lost Sock

    Life, much like my laundry basket, is full of incomplete sets. We strive for perfection, for order, for everything to be neatly paired and accounted for. But the reality is, sometimes things go missing. Plans fall apart. Dreams get misplaced. We end up with mismatched socks and a nagging feeling of “what if?”

    But what if, instead of lamenting the missing pieces, we embraced the incomplete? What if we learned to appreciate the single sock for its individuality, its ability to stand alone, even if it wasn’t its intended purpose? Perhaps those solo socks are reminding us that it’s okay to be a work in progress, to embrace the quirks and imperfections that make us unique.

    Finding Joy in the Unexpected (Like a Missing Sock Resurfacing)

    There’s also a certain charm in the unexpected. Sure, finding a matching pair of socks is satisfying, a tiny victory in the chaos of daily life. But stumbling upon a long-lost sock weeks later, tucked away in the corner of a linen closet, brings a spark of unexpected joy. It’s a small reminder that life is full of surprises, some more delightful than others.

    Maybe the lost socks aren’t lost at all. Maybe they’re on tiny adventures, slipping through the seams of reality to explore the unknown. Perhaps they’re gathering stories, collecting experiences, and will one day return, slightly worse for wear, but full of tales of dryer-vent escapades and washing machine whirlpools.

  • 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).
  • Why My Phone Charger Is My Arch Nemesis (and Other Tales of Tech Frustration)

    Why My Phone Charger Is My Arch Nemesis (and Other Tales of Tech Frustration)





    Why My Phone Charger Is My Arch Nemesis (and Other Tales of Tech Frustration)

    We live in a world run by technology. It’s amazing! It’s life-changing! It’s… also incredibly frustrating at times. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my gadgets and gizmos as much as the next person. But some days, it feels like the universe conspires to make my tech experience as painful as possible.

    The Case of the Vanishing Phone Charger

    Take yesterday, for instance. Picture this: I’m cozy in bed, about to drift off to sleep, when I realize my phone is about to die. No problem, I think, I’ll just plug it in. Except… where’s my charger?

    Thus began the nightly ritual I’m sure many of you know too well. I checked the bedside table – nope. Under the bed? Of course not. How about that black hole also known as my purse? Nada. After fifteen minutes of frantic searching, I finally found it… plugged into a random outlet in the kitchen. Like it just decided to go on a solo adventure while I wasn’t looking.

  • The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Checkout Lines

    The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Checkout Lines

    The Case of the Rogue Watermelon

    We’ve all been there. Standing in the grocery store checkout line, patiently (or impatiently) waiting our turn. Maybe you’re mentally calculating how many more items until it’s your turn. Maybe you’re engaging in some top-notch people-watching. Or maybe, just maybe, you’re the unfortunate soul stuck behind me and my rogue watermelon.

    You see, I pride myself on being a fairly competent adult. I can parallel park like a boss and make a mean bowl of ramen. But grocery shopping? That’s where my inner child runs wild. I get distracted by shiny packaging, forget to grab the one thing I actually need, and inevitably end up with a wonky assortment of items tumbling haphazardly onto the conveyor belt.

    This particular day, the culprit was a particularly large watermelon. I’m talking “baby hippopotamus” large. Naturally, I’d placed it on the belt last, only to watch in horror as it proceeded to roll, menacingly, towards the unsuspecting cashier.