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I recently started a new job, and they told me it's a team-oriented environment. Little did I know, the only team activity we do is the "Who Can Avoid Eye Contact in the Elevator" game. I'm pretty sure I'm winning gold in that one. And then there's the office politics. It's like high school with paychecks. There's the popular clique by the water cooler, the overachievers in the corner office, and I'm just here in the breakroom trying to microwave my lunch without causing a fire. If microwave mastery was an Olympic sport, I'd be a gold medalist by now.
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Who else is on a diet here? I tried one of those trendy diets, you know, the kind where you only eat what our ancestors ate. Turns out, our ancestors had a much better selection of drive-thru options. I feel like a caveman stuck in a world of kale smoothies and quinoa. I miss the good old days when the only decision I had to make was paper or plastic, not gluten or no gluten. And don't get me started on cheat days. They call it a cheat day, but it feels more like a betrayal to my salad. I'm sitting there with a burger, and my salad is giving me the silent treatment. I'm sorry, kale, but sometimes I just need a little extra cheese in my life.
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Let's talk about relationships. They say opposites attract, but sometimes I feel like I'm a magnet for chaos. My partner and I are so different; they're a morning person, and I'm a night owl. They wake up at dawn, ready to seize the day, and I'm just trying to figure out how to survive until bedtime. And communication in relationships is a whole other ball game. We have these deep, meaningful conversations, but they always happen when I'm in the bathroom. Nothing says romance like discussing our future while I'm on the throne. Maybe that's the secret to a lasting relationship—keep the mystique alive by never seeing each other's faces.
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You know, life these days is like trying to assemble IKEA furniture without the manual—confusing, frustrating, and you're not sure if you're doing it right. We live in a world where we have smart devices, but sometimes I feel like my phone is smarter than me. It autocorrects my text messages, but it can't seem to autocorrect my life choices. And let's talk about social media. We're all obsessed with it, right? I mean, I spend more time thinking of a clever caption for my photo than I do actually living in the moment. If I had a dollar for every selfie I've taken, I could probably afford therapy for my narcissism.
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