My doctor asked if I have trouble sleeping. I said, 'No, I sleep fine—it's the 4 AM existential crisis about whether penguins have knees that keeps me up.' He prescribed melatonin. I'm pretty sure he just wanted me to stop calling at 3:47 AM.
Monday mornings hit different. First, you hit snooze. Then you hit the shower. Then you hit traffic. Then you hit your coworker who microwaved fish. Then HR hits you with a termination notice.
I tried to get in shape like Chris Hemsworth. Three weeks in, I've built an impressive six-pack of beer. My trainer said I'm going the wrong direction. I said, 'At least I'm building something.'
I need three things in life: a phone that holds a charge, a phone that doesn't spy on me, and a phone that doesn't cost my first-born child. So basically, I need to go back to 2005.
My dog wakes me up by jumping on the bed and licking my face. My cat wakes me up by sitting on my chest and staring into my soul like I owe her money. My goldfish just floats there judging us both.
I tried explaining the Trojan War to my friend. Turns out I spent 10 minutes describing a wooden horse with angry people inside before he reminded me that's just my apartment building at 2 AM.