Welcome to my brain-dump zone where school drama, project disasters, and random 2 a.m rants collide. If you love a good laugh, a little sarcasm, and occasional deep thoughts when I’m not doom-scrolling—stick around!
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School’s back after winter break, and with it comes a pile of notifications, assignments, and… surprises. One of the first posts on Google Classroom caught my eye: something called “Chromebook Registration.” At first glance, it looked like one of those posts you skim, think “I’ll do it later,” and then promptly forget exists. I didn’t even open it properly. Obviously, because I’m lazy in a very academically strategic way. Ironically, that laziness may have saved my Chromebook. Some students, however, were far more responsible than me. They followed the instructions immediately. A few hours later, the same students were sending screenshots in the group chat—screenshots of restricted settings, blocked access, and a sudden realization that their personal Chromebooks no longer felt very personal. That’s when things started to feel… off. A few days later, teachers started asking who had completed the registration. A handful of us—four or five girls—admitted we hadn’t. Not out of defiance,...
I know the title sounds confusing, but hear me out. Some activities have been aggressively marketed as therapeutic and sanative —like they’re one yoga mat away from fixing your life. But in reality? Those same activities often send you into an emotional spiral you did not sign up for. This isn’t a self-care guide. It’s more of a reality check: a list of things that are supposed to help you heal but somehow end up making your emotional state worse than it already was. To make my thesis make sense, let me give some examples. Organising Organising starts as a “clean space, clean mind” situation and ends with you sitting on the floor at 1 a.m., holding random objects and questioning your entire personality. Every single time I start cleaning; organising drawers, dusting cabinets, rearranging shelves, I crash out. Never in my life—not once—have I been peaceful pre-, mid-, or post-cleaning. If anything, I come out more overstimulated and emotionally unstable than I went in. Whoever came up...
So, I heard there’s a new tiktok trend where we confess to embarrassing stuff we did? (There is no trend, just bear with my story and I.) Last week, I was a little under the weather (P.S: I survived to tell the tale), thanks to my perfectly rebellious self. My mom brought a new brand of noodles last time she went grocery shopping – a bolt from the blue – I know. Anyway, a few days later, she warned me not to inhale them, claiming they’re expired. I, of course thought she was lying and just said that so I could ‘be healthier’ or whatever. Spoiler: she wasn’t lying. I got sick; retching and farting until she got home. She was ballistic. I mean, full-on fire-breathing mom mode. When she started inquiring about how I ended up in this sorry state, I kept beating around the bush, not wanting to confess that I willingly ate expired food. “Will you just cut to the chase?” she snapped, irritated. Alas, I revealed my act of brilliance, feeling equal parts guilty and proud of my so-cal...
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