No one’s perfect, but is it fair to say that sometimes our “imperfections” actually surprise us a little? Like, can’t we be just a little bit perfect? Please?
I know I’m not the only one who experiences these moments on an almost daily basis — moments when I fail so hard I can physically feel it in my soul.
Don’t even pretend you haven’t done these things. We’re all in the same rickety, half-sinking, barely moving boat of failure here. Let’s just own it and find comfort in knowing we’re not alone. We’re all out here trying our best, but sometimes our best just isn’t good enough.
We all know what happens next.
At some point, you can’t hold it in anymore and the loudest, most throat-rattling chain of coughs come erupting out of you like a dang air horn.
So in the end, that one tiny cough that you were so worried about disrupting the class with has now turned into an endless spew of hacking that no one wants to witness. Great job.
Waiters really know when the worst time to come popping up is.
My favorite part is when no one else at your table feels like responding, even though their mouths are totally empty. So you take one for the team and spit your pasta all over your plate as you try to tell the waiter the dish is divine, thank you.
Seems safe.
I’m convinced no one on the road is actually paying attention and we’re all out here just failing so hard at being safe.
But also kudos to our brains for keeping us on the road when we go blank. You the real MVP.
Every. Single. Time.
I also enjoy opening the Google app on my phone and staring at the search engine for five minutes while I try to remember what I was so eager to Google in the first place.
I only went in for two things, how did this happen?
True, this is a moment when we all feel like a failure.
But can we talk about how good it feels when you dump everything into the cart and suddenly your arms are ten pounds lighter and you merrily set off with your cart to go grab even more food you don’t need to buy, feeling better and stronger than ever before?
“Wait, how many minutes do I let the pasta boil for again?”
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I don’t think the “recipe” for Kraft macaroni and cheese has ever changed in the history of its existence, but I still need to read the back of the box while I make it, just in case I forget one of the three very crucial steps.
Hope it was a funny story.
Here’s the rule I think we all follow: you ask them to repeat themselves once, then resort to laughing and nodding and looking to the side awkwardly as you pray for a change in conversation and no follow-up questions.
Looks good to me.
I write for a living and even I don’t know how to spell that word without spellcheck at the ready to help a girl out.
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I got anxiety just reading that.
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This, people, is why self checkouts are you best friend . Unless you scan something wrong and the light starts flashing at the camera turns on and films you because it thinks you’re a criminal and everyone turns to stare at the person who tried to go through self checkout to steal something.
What are “songs” again?
Fun story. I was at my boyfriend’s mom’s place recently where she was playing music through Alexa and she wanted some song suggestions, so she asked me what my favorite band is. I, being an awkward idiot, panicked and blurted out “Dixie Chicks.”
So everyone at that dinner party got to enjoy their meal while being treated to some early 2000s country.
I’m usually busy thinking about how I’ll introduce myself afterwards.
I called my roommate “girl” for three weeks because this happened to me. Let’s all make a conscious effort to be better listeners because that’s just embarrassing.
