RANKING CHORES FROM WORST TO ACCEPTABLE

Is there anyone who looks forward to chores? Or is everyone like me and sees it as just a to-do list item to check off on a somewhat frequent basis? On the bright side, some of them are not as painful as others.

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REASONS I’M NOT SINGLE, BUT SHOULD BE

Have you ever been in love? Let’s back up, have you ever been in a relationship? Mmm, further back, have you ever liked someone? AKA, been single and ready to mingle? If that’s you, no worries at all! There is still more than enough time and plenty of fish in the sea. Don’t give up hope – your person, or people … not here to judge … is out there. This is the ideal time to live your best freaking life and do all of the things that make you happy. No asking, no schedule arranging, no double booking, no awkward in-law interactions, no trying to conceal your quirkiness. Just pure you.

While I fully support a solid, soul enhancing, single period of your life, most of us, at some point, want to find the peanut butter to our jelly. And I have to say, there is no better feeling than meeting someone who you just vibe with. Who you love spending time with doing absolutely nothing. The person who is your travel buddy, picture taker, food explorer, and best friend. Someone who pushes you to be a better version of yourself and is your biggest cheerleader. That feeling is special.

True love, or infatuation, if you’ve felt it, you know what I’m talking about. If you’re anything like me, however, the longer you’re with your partner, the more comfortable you get with them. And thus, the longer the list becomes of just truly questionable things that you do where you wonder how you aren’t single. How someone would watch you do something so off the wall without batting an eye and move on like nothing happened. If you’re really jamming on the same keyboard with your partner, they might even respond back, matching your weirdness without a second thought.

For my singles peeps, I’m sure you can also think of several reasons keeping you from finding your soulmate. Although I would argue that they aren’t preventing you from meeting that special someone, you just haven’t found the right person who loves that about you. To be honest, sometimes you have to pick through a lot of weeds to find a beautiful flower. Some weeds may look like a catch on the outside, talking to you dandelions, but when you start to dig deep you realize they’re toxic. So don’t beat yourself up! You deserve someone much, much, much better.

Anywho … enough mushy talk. In case you’re embarrassed by your quirks, or are in denial that you’re a weirdo, I’m more than happy to share some of my strange habits to make you feel better about yourself. Starting with the fact that apparently I make dinosaur noises at random points throughout the day. I never really know when it’s going to happen. One minute, I’m a professional, and the next I’m channeling my inner pterodactyl to communicate my hunger to my partner. Who usually just responds with a dinosaur noise as well, so if that isn’t a soulmate I’m not sure what is. 

Dinosaur noises may sit at the top of my list, but please enjoy all these other quirks that comprehensively should make me single according to social standards:

  • In general, my life is very organized. I keep a highly organized Tupperware cabinet. Meaning I can match lids to bottoms so quickly. Everything gets folded – laundry, pajamas, blankets, etc. and the majority of my shoes live in their original boxes
  • I’m way too in love with my dog. If I had to choose between my partner and my dog, that’s a hard answer for me
  • My communication timing is usually less than ideal. For example, I always think of questions for my partner while they’re using the bathroom so I ask them through a closed door. Usually I announce plans at the last minute so it’s a right then and there kind of movement. Like we have to be at a brewery in 15 minutes – let’s a go! 
  • Apparently I’m not an overly loud person and choose to ask questions while walking away so my partner can’t hear me. And sometimes I ask honest questions, but very directly, and it comes across as somewhat judgemental
  • I can have full fledged conversations with my partner where I will answer all of my questions by myself and they will say absolutely nothing. It’s effective, though, I must admit
  • There have been times when I may, or may not, have dramatized things a bit. Or a lot. If you’ve read any posts on here this should not surprise you
  • Competitiveness is my biggest flaw. I will argue with a child playing Chutes and Ladders if I’m not winning. It’s bad
  • I’m not good at sharing, specifically space on the bed. I can, and will, take up 95% of the available room. I’m also a cover thief
  • I eat Goldfish as an entree
  • My dancing skills leave a lot to be desired and so I stick with what I’m good at – bouncy movements
  • Shockingly, I am restless. To the extreme and am unable to relax. I’ll change positions four hundred times in a 10 minute period. I’ll have to take breaks during a 2 hour movie to move around. I’m a busy body
  • I keep a year round CHRISTMAS countdown
  • When it comes to drinking adult beverages, I will smell every drink before I take a sip. Especially if it’s a shot of straight liquor as I like to know what I’m getting myself into. I have also been known to voluntarily get on the floor when past a certain line. Just because
  • All of the cars that I’ve ever owned have been named
  • I still have all of my stuffed animals and I keep a somewhat robust rubber duck assortment located in various places around the house
  • We all know traffic is one of my favorite subjects, and as a self-described traffic critic I am a terrible backseat driver. I’m not proud of this, but if you’re seeing someone brake in front of you and our speed isn’t changing, I’m grabbing the Jesus handle for sure
  • Despite a strong love for food, I never, and I mean never, know what I want to eat. I’m never really craving anything specific either. Neither food type or restaurant which my partner LOVES. Just kidding it drives them insane – not really sure why they keep asking what I want to eat. If you put food in front of me, chances are that’s what I wanted. Unless it’s dessert and in that case I’m always craving something
  • Honestly, I’m a terrible liar. My facial expressions always give me away. I have a guilty conscience what can I say
  • I will try to play things off whenever possible. Sometimes it’s a success, sometimes it’s not, but I won’t know if I don’t try

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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I JUST WATCHED A QUIET PLACE AND I HAVE QUESTIONS

For a movie all about being quiet, there sure is a lot going on in it. Nosies, for one, and lots of fear, but who wouldn’t be afraid of a stealthy, swimming ninja, gorilla running, tetris head death eater coming after you. I found myself staying physically quiet during the movie, although that didn’t stop my mind from screaming at full strength about all of my questions and observations from this creepy film:

  • What is so special about day 89? If you could pick any number, why that high of an odd?
  • Also, if it’s been 89 days how is the pharmacy so well stocked still? And why are all the pill bottles the only section that doesn’t look destroyed?
  • What kind of childhood do you have in this world? Can’t run around screaming on the playground or throw a temper tantrum. Pure anarchy
  • Poor little boy just wants to play with that rocket
  • How likely is it that these kids will ever find love? I mean, how many people are left in this society?
  • Are shoes too loud? How does no one have splinters from walking barefoot on the railroad tracks?
  • Why would the parents let the smallest member of the family walk in the back of the line?
  • Well … that was terrible! The little boy, really?! The dad should not have put the batteries within his reach. And let’s not forget sister sin who gave him back the rocket
  • All of a sudden we’re 400 days in the future? What is this timeline?
  • Let’s be honest those newspapers would not look so pristine for being 400 and something days old
  • If they all survive, they’d be amazing ninjas. So stealthy
  • Of course she’s pregnant – imagine trying to give birth silently … I’d rather die
  • Do they cut their own hair, COVID style, or no?
  • Are the monsters blind? Did all of their senses go to their hearing because they don’t seem to be trying to hide so much as be silent
  • What are the chances she’s taking her prenatal vitamins? I’m assuming the pharmacy has long since run out
  • Showers are loud, yes? So how are they staying somewhat clean?
  • Again, the monsters supposedly have amazing hearing and we think they aren’t going to be able to hear the dog whistle that is the hearing aid?
  • Same with washing clothes, right? These everyday activities are loud and yet, her dress was very blue and clearly had not been half-washed for 400+ days
  • Let me get this straight, we jumped almost 90 days, then almost 400 days, and then we jumped one day. A singular day
  • Why risk having a baby in this post-apocalyptic world? Babies do what? Everybody! Cry! Babies cry!
  • They’re living in a farmhouse so who lives / lived in the big white one? That I’m assuming is creaky
  • Math class, seriously?! Shouldn’t you be more concerned with escaping the monsters? Or finding a way to kill them? Seems more pressing
  • And a fine example of the daughter getting stereotyped into staying home while the son gets to roam the fields and learn survival skills
  • Yes, running away seems like a smart idea for a young girl in a scary world
  • If you feel resistance on the laundry bag, why would you not back down the steps and carefully untangle it? Instead of forcefully pulling it?
  • There’s always a creepy, abandoned house in scary movies
  • Who would have guessed that aforementioned creepy, abandoned house would lead to a monster scene? Literally everyone
  • I’m assuming the marks on the walls of their house (?) are from the monsters and not just peeling wallpaper … am I right?
  • I know that stepping on that nail hurt
  • What an unfortunate series of events for the mom. Punctured foot, most likely a tetanus risk, in labor, and with monsters literally in your home. Talk about bad timing
  • Is there a reason the monsters have crab arms? Just because or is it a murdering mechanism?
  • Did they forget about their other two children who are somewhere in the wild?
  • Is putting a baby inside a coffin with some sort of mask over its face ethical? Probably the least of their concerns I suppose
  • And suddenly the parents remembered the rest of the family
  • How did the dad not see / hear the gushing water headed straight towards mom and the new baby?
  • If I saw the monster go under the water, I would most certainly not keep walking through the water
  • A little children of the corn vibe going on with the silo scene
  • Some tetris head looking crab man kind of monster. Who designed them?
  • Did the little girl kill one? From killer to hero all in a few short film minutes
  • Pretty sure the shotgun blast will attract ALL of the monsters. But good job for killing one
  • How are you going to end the movie right before the mass destruction? What kind of absolute nonsense is this?!
  • Are we to assume that the humans won since there is a sequel? I honestly find that impossible to believe

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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COFFEE v. TEA

Ah, the morning, afternoon, evening, and late night drinks of choice for a disturbing portion of the population. The addiction that people literally cannot live without. At least not without soul crushing headaches and patches of exhaustion scattered at non-normal times throughout the day. Among other things, I’ve heard. I, to the horror of my colleagues, friends, and family, do not participate in the liquid caffeine. I’m one of those wake up, get dressed, ready to go kind of people. What can I say, I’m a natural.

Now despite my morning routine, I know that I’m an endangered species. With Starbucks popping up faster than grocery stores, our whole culture has embraced the coffee and tea movements. More than even the bacon movement. Which is probably a good thing. Certain things don’t need to be related to bacon. Including, but not limited to, bacon flavoring, bacon scent, bacon images, or adding bacon. I, also, am not a bacon fan. I’m basically an alien, I think.

Ok, moving on from the very glaring things that make me a weirdo, coffee and tea and all the caffeine! While both will give you your morning fix, there are very real differences between the two. Starting with the obvious: coffee is an addiction while tea is a hobby. Coffee is seen as more of a habit that people get hooked on and can’t seem to kick. A problem, so to speak. On the other hand, tea is healthy. It’s a good medium between needing caffeine and the no caffeine extreme.

Let’s talk about coffee first. Since c comes well before t in the alphabet, it just seems right. Most coffee that I’ve seen people drink ranges in color from black to light brown. Although, are the light brown ones really coffee, or are they milk with a dash of coffee? I have to believe it’s the latter. Which … why drink coffee if you have to add more sugar, milk, creamer, ice, flavor pumps, etc. than there is actual coffee? Why not just drink a milkshake at that point? This is what I don’t understand about coffee drinkers. Or people who go to STARBUCKS. Genuinely a question I would like someone to answer for me.

Then we have tea. Which, if I’m being honest, I think is all different variations of clear. Since it’s basically water. With some leaves thrown into it. It tastes like someone dipped the Flintstones multivitamins in hot water. There are “flavors”, but there aren’t really. Let’s not kid ourselves. You take a scoop, or a bag, or literal things from nature. They could be mistaken for certain drugs. Just saying. 

My big question around both of these options, though, is why it’s so freaking complicated. They took something simple – hot water and beans or hot water and leaves – and made whole new languages around them. I don’t even know how to order coffee, or shop for tea. There are too many options. A few would be great, but we’re at a different level. Stressful amounts of options. And everyone who participates is always so impatient to get their energy levels up that any hesitation on your part leads to multiple new enemies behind you in line.

I, personally, prefer a calmer way to start my mornings. A nice cup of water. Maybe some juice, if I’m feeling frisky. Food. Then on with whatever adventure awaits me. No coffee. No tea. No angry people. No ridiculous amount of choices. No waiting for water to heat up. No getting diabetes from my drink. Flavor. All I want. All I need. But no judgement against all of you who ride the bandwagon. There are a lot of people in my life on that path and I still love them very much.

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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BECOMING AN ADULT: EXPECTATIONS v. REALITY

Remember being in college and wanting so badly to just be an adult already? Start making the money instead of selling the devil your soul to be able to afford tuition each semester? Oh to be young and dumb again! In hindsight, I would like to make college last as long as possible. A victory lap if that’s what it would have taken to prolong becoming an adult for an extra year. But alas, that’s how life works isn’t it? The grass is always greener somewhere else. 

There are definitely perks to being a full-blown adult, though. Namely, the money making part. Also the no homework part, the no exams part, the do what you want when you want part, the bigger and better vacations part (because you now have the money part), and the adult relationships part. Specifically the part of said adult relationship where you, and society, feel comfortable rescuing a puppy together. Which is really the goal of life, I think. Get to that stage and what could be better?! Kids? Mmm, ask me again in 10 years. It’ll be a close call.

By now, you know that I think dogs are angels sent to make all the bad times seem meaningless compared to the joy that we are capable of experiencing. Thus, there really is no flip side to that part of the adulting phase in life. There is, however, a flip side to the dolla dolla bills portion of it. Disappointments, really, that no one, not even Hollywood, prepared me for. Frankly, I’m disappointed that growing up they fed us lies that high school would be Wildcat wonderland, college would be the equivalent of doing your favorite thing in the world day after day, and then, seamlessly, we would blossom into well-mannered, brilliant, funny, personable, desirable, and social adults. Like a caterpillar emerging from it’s college cocoon. 

Granted, you can never expect too much from the film and TV industry. Guidance counselors, though, where were you? Department heads, where was the curriculum to prepare us? I have a lot of RANDOM SKILLS, but I would have liked to have had some practical skills and realistic expectations from my colorful coursework. Maybe a course on what is health care. What all the hundreds of papers you have to sign are referencing when buying a car. How to do your taxes. The basic art of cooking for one. Anything along those lines.

Among the list of biggest disappointments are the following:

  • Work
    • Just in general, I’m already over this
  • Being Tired on Friday Nights
  • Cooking for Yourself
    • This is harder than it seems when you’re growing up and it was just always there
  • Having to Make Your Own Appointments
    • You have to know your calendar, and the commute time, and you have to talk on the phone with someone … just not great all around
  • Bills
    • A disturbing amount of the money from that fun work thing goes to paying other people for basic things like the Internet
  • Student Loan Payments
    • A cruel form of bills as payback for not preparing you for being a real-world adult without a trust fund
  • Responsibility
    • All of it – it’s overrated
  • Communication
    • People expect you to magically be a poet laureate and beautifully articulate in every email, Slack message, personal thought, etc.
  • Vacation Days
    • A novel concept, but there is somehow never enough to make up for the 3 months of summer break, 1 week of fall break, 1 month of winter break, and 1 week of spring break that you are now lacking. In other words, I would need a minimum of 18 weeks PTO to be comparable
  • Sales People
    • And suddenly, spam! Spam everywhere! Leave me alone, if I want to buy something I know how to search on Amazon for it

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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DEAR BANK TELLERS: LET’S BOTH ACCEPT THAT I HAVE NO CLUE HOW TO FILL OUT THOSE SLIPS OF PAPER … PLEASE STOP ASKING IF I HAVE ONE

What a time to be alive. Smartwatches, self-driving cars, every restaurant available for delivery, no shame for laying on a couch all day to watch TV, Chewy Chip-Ahoy. So much progress. So much technology. So much innovation. So much delicious food. So many choices for which piece of paper to fill out when you walk into a bank. Did that entire sector of the economy miss the memo? Did no one tell them that it isn’t 1879 anymore? Why are they always the last ones to know … everytime?

For starters, how long did it take banks to get useful online applications up? Too long. How long did it take for banks to finally jump on the happy app train? Too long. How long did it take for banks to do everything in their power to have minimal interactions with customers? Well, this is to be determined since they still seem to love face to face awkward money conversations. Self service is the future. Why talk to an angry, or confused, customer on the phone when they could read an article, or talk to a robot, and figure it out themselves? Anyways, I digress. Back to what’s really important here, which is how confusing it is to write on paper at the bank. It’s the only time I actually write something that doesn’t involve a screen and a cursor.

Some financial institutes have graciously allowed app users to deposit checks via picture. Genius. One less interaction and one less stressful choice at the paper counter. Choosing a slip is somewhat almost kind of intuitive. They’re all different colors. Then it’s usually an educated guess based on the two words I know: deposit and withdrawal. One is exciting and the other is sad. When in doubt, go with the more positive choice. That’s the easy part, though. After you have carefully selected what you hope to be the right check-sized piece of paper, then you have to fill it out. Who knows their bank account number off the top of their head? I don’t even memorize phone numbers, you think I’m going to memorize my bank number? Hard pass. 

I used to try and be a good bank customer and put my numbers in the tiny boxes on the paper. A traumatizing experience that reminded me of proctored tests in school. You know, the super fun ones where they make you write your name, address, medical information, dreams, every time you’ve blinked, with each letter in a separate box the size of a period. But, then the impossible question of my bank account number stalls me so I would take my half-hearted attempt to the bank teller who would have to finish it for me. Then, like technology, I evolved and would pick the bank paper and just take it up without even trying. 

Now, however, I no longer care about what the bank tellers think of me. I don’t even glance at that table. It’s a straight up swerve. Right into line where I confidently stroll up and tell them what I need – they can figure out which piece of paper I need. That’s their job, right? Or part of their ‘other duties as assigned’ at the very least. If they wanted me to do it myself, why not let me do it online? Or on their app? Or via a chat bot? Or via telekinesis? So many options that don’t involve a bank teller judging my skills as an adult. It also seems like minimizing real life visits would reduce overhead. 

Why don’t they move all operations online, you may be wondering? I’ve been asking myself this for years. Even Capital One’s reinvented “cafes” are still banks. Just banks with iPads and chairs in them. Which begs the question, why can’t I use the iPad in my house, sitting in my own chair, and not put on pants to come to a building to conduct financial business? Sure, I get it. Some people prefer in person interactions. Well, I would prefer it if I could eat a whole pizza by myself and not receive four plates from the delivery driver like I’m going to share it. I would also like to receive a bank bonus for showing up in person, when so many people are able to avoid that. But, we can’t always get what we want, can we? 

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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DEAR SUCCULENTS: IF I WANTED TO TAKE CARE OF SOMETHING, I WOULD GET A DOG

I have a confession to make…I have committed a terrible sin. Honestly, I’m embarrassed to tell you what happened, but I feel like we’re on that level now, you and me, so here goes nothing:

In an apartment, not too long ago, a tragic homicide happened. A human (let’s call them a restless professional) was living their best life, minding their own business, not giving a care in the world. Now this human had been gifted a succulent. Mind you, no one asked said human if they were prepared, or even if they wanted, to take on the burden of caring for another living thing. To commit to ensuring that this plant would be fed and loved. No, there was no asking just a bold statement followed by the heavy click of the ball and chain now trapping the free-spirited human into responsibility.

So now the human had an (unwanted) succulent. The human, tending to look for the best in any situation, thought: ‘Well, plants have lots of health benefits so maybe this will be good! Besides, worst case scenario, my roommate is growing a small, thriving, forest on our balcony so they can help me out.’ And so the human took the succulent and put it on the windowsill (because everyone knows that plants need sunlight. I mean, come on, the human isn’t that clueless!). There the succulent lived happily in the warm, direct sunlight for a day, then two, then three, then a week, then two weeks, then three weeks, etc.

One day (about a month later) the human came home from work to find that it was still light outside (apparently some people get home before dark every day, lucky duckies). Desperately wanting to enjoy the last rays of warm, direct, sunlight they went over to the window and basked in the Vitamin D. Feeling truly elated, and a bit invincible, the human glanced down at the windowsill and noticed a little pot with nothing inside it. Seemed strange that the roommate would pack a pot full of dirt and then put nothing in it…maybe they were finally losing their touch? Maybe it was the human’s turn to show the world that, although they still get nervous when having to actually TALK on the phone to make an appointment, and don’t buy groceries that either can’t be microwaved or aren’t immediately ready for consumption, in fact they were a responsible adult and their parents could stop worrying about having to clean out their basement for a make-shift bedroom.

Then reality hit. Like a ton of bricks strapped to the front of an 18-wheeler going 70MPH on the highway. That wasn’t the roommates pot! No, that was the succulent gifted to the human (who knows how long ago at this point). It was green and thriving when first handed over, but now it was so dead it looked like dirt. What does a responsible, caring, living their best life human do in this situation? Well the only thing that makes sense when seeing a dead plant of course – ran it to the sink and drowned it in water (because obviously it was thirsty or it wouldn’t have died).

Now, I would just like to point out that succulents, by nature, are supposed to need VERY little attention. Did I maybe neglect it for too long? Neglect is a strong word – I prefer the term forgot. I didn’t purposefully not water my succulent. In my mind, the succulent had been watered when it was given to me, therefore it would be a couple months before it was a thirsty hoe again. Turns out, I was thinking of a cactus. It also turns out that succulents and cacti are NOT one and the same (much to my disappointment).

There you have it! You’re supporting an (accidental) plant murderer. Well…actually, in a weird twist of fate, turns out my succulent is thirstier than I am because the drowning actually brought half of it back to life. I’m happy to report that the living half is doing great currently…and also that my roommate immediately took over its care.

Moral of the story is this, two things really:

  1. You can’t just be assuming that people are ready to take care of something. Chances are if they are only (barely) taking care of themselves it’s for a reason
  2. There needs to be better education around succulents – if I wanted to take care of something, I’d get a dog because they are 100,000,000 times more fun (but that’s for ANOTHER POST)
  3. (I lied, there are three morals – see you can’t be trusting me) Everyone and everyTHING gets thirsty at some point so please chill with the judgement

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who has mistakenly been entrusted with a succulent, or a fish, or another seemingly innocent living organism, please get them the help they need immediately. Thanks for reading!


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