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Three hundred – the miles my GPS says it'll take to reach my destination. Why does the GPS always sound so optimistic? "In three hundred miles, you'll arrive." Yeah, sure, let me just pack a lunch and bring a change of clothes for that road trip.
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Three hundred... the number of unread emails in my inbox. I swear, my inbox is like that annoying friend who just won't stop talking. I open it, and it's like, "Hey, remember that newsletter from 2017 you never read? Well, here it is, haunting your unread messages.
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Three hundred, the number of TV remote buttons, and yet, I only use like three of them. I'm convinced the other buttons are just there to mess with us, like a remote control conspiracy to make us feel technologically challenged.
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You ever notice how in the self-checkout lane, the voice announces your total like it's auditioning for an award? "And the total is... three hundred dollars!" Like, calm down, Siri, I'm just buying snacks and cat food, not financing a space mission.
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Three hundred, the approximate number of times I've hit the snooze button in my lifetime. I'm not saying I'm not a morning person, but my bed and I have this special relationship where it's always begging for "just five more minutes.
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You ever notice how three hundred friends on social media somehow translates to three actual people who would help you move? It's like, "Hey, I see you liked my post about needing help, but where were you when I needed someone to carry my couch?
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You ever walk into a grocery store for just one thing and end up spending three hundred dollars? It's like the produce aisle is a black hole that sucks you into a parallel universe where your shopping list doesn't matter.
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Three hundred seconds is approximately how long it takes for me to regret hitting "reply all" on a work email. Suddenly, my inbox becomes the stage for an unintentional comedy show, and I'm the star of the "Oops, I didn't mean to send that to everyone" episode.
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Three hundred is also the number of TV channels, and yet, I still end up watching the same five shows in an endless loop. It's like having a buffet with three hundred options, but you keep going back to the mac and cheese because, well, it's comfort food.
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