If buying something isn't owning then pirating isn't stealing.

Al has now become the abbreviation for Absolutely Insane.

To any coworker I offended… I sincerely hope you take this opportunity to heal, grow, and maybe develop a personality. That way, I won’t have to accidentally do it again.

Someone said I was doing the Gen Z stare today…
Nah bro, that’s just my face when my serotonin is on airplane mode.

The day after Memorial Day hits different went from grilling burgers to grilling coworkers with awkward small talk. 🥲 #BackToReality

2025 update: Still waiting for flying cars. Still stuck behind someone who doesn’t know how to use the self-checkout. #Progress

Just put a Band-Aid on my mental health. Can’t wait for the emotional hemorrhaging to stop any minute now.

People keep calling me ‘boss’ and honestly, I’m starting to think they know something about my future that I don’t.

People keep calling me ‘boss.’ At this rate, I’m about to start handing out imaginary bonuses.

“Just met another Disappointment Enthusiast — they don’t go to the gym, but they do carry the weight of how disappointed they are in your life choices.”

Every morning I wake up, stare at the ceiling, and whisper, “Another episode?” Then I realize it’s not Netflix. It’s my job. And the plot never improves. #WorkLife #WhyAmIStillHere

Just diagnosed someone with Mandatory Greeting Syndrome — they legit get offended if you don’t say hi, bye, goodnight, good luck, and Godspeed every time you pass them.

That one hour we lost? Yeah, that was exactly the hour I scheduled to get my entire life together. Now I gotta reschedule for… never.

Maturing is realizing your mom was right… but also wondering if she really needed to say it with that much attitude and a wooden spoon in hand. (Or any object nearby)

You tend to withdraw when things become overwhelming because, as a child, you learned that relying on yourself felt safer than seeking help from others.

Using self-checkout feels like prepping for tax season. I’m bagging my own groceries, scanning my own items, and now I’m just waiting for the machine to print me a 1099 for all this unpaid labor!

If the weather insists on flipping its mood every 48 hours, guess who's joining the drama club?

I must set boundaries against being an emotional repository for others.

A once devoted MySpace user, now I've transitioned to MyChart – ah, the unmistakable signs of aging!