STRESS IS OVERRATED

They say stress can kill you. So just don’t be stressed. Yeet that kind of mental energy right back to where it belongs. With the cats.

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CAN I SEE YOUR ID?

There are several key birthday milestones that you count down to growing up. Your 10th birthday, for sure. I mean, double digits! You remember getting so excited to be double digits without really realizing that there’s a good chance you will never leave the double digit range … think about that for a second. What was so great about 10 anyways? That’s a whole extra candle your parents had to buy for the cake. 10 is selfish is what it is.

Plus then you’re on the verge of the pre-teen years which are fun for absolutely nobody. Not your parents. Not your friends. Not you. Not your teachers. Nobody. It’s a phase that is frustrating, stressful, and confusing. And that’s all before you hit the joy of puberty. Which is also frustrating, stressful, and confusing. But also scary and sad and exciting and you realize you’re nearing the next milestone which is the sweet sixteen. Ironically, the only sweet thing about being 16 is the ability to drive. Which is expensive so once again who’s really winning here?

Then there’s 18 and you’re finally an adult! Again, though, not as exciting as we hype ourselves up for. You can buy cigarettes so I guess it’s a good way to learn about consequences. Although you only partially get treated like an adult. You get to go to college, which IS an awesome milestone. Even there though, it’s not quite the same as the monotonous, expensive, and exhausting world that is post-college.

Among the birthday milestones that we trick ourselves into getting pumped about, the 21st one is the best day of your life. No more worrying about getting caught with a fake, or having to bribe your older friends into getting you some bottles, or swiping extra liquor from the very back of your parent’s cabinet hoping they don’t use those. You can waltz into the grocery store. The liquor store. The gas station. The club. The bar. Wherever and slap that ID card down and get whatever your little heart desires.

While being an alcohol drinking adult has its perks, like most good things, there are downfalls. That downfall is being asked to show your ID. Don’t get me wrong, that first day you reach purchasing freedom, you want to brag about it! You want everywhere you go to ask for that card so you can whip it out. Then wait awkwardly for them to have to triple check the date to make sure it’s the very minimum legal age. A powerful feeling.

During the post-turning-21-hangover, having to pull your ID out of your wallet every time becomes … annoying. Especially as you start to age towards your mid and late 20s. How young do you have to look to be closer to 30 than 21 and be asked to prove yourself. There’s always the one friend who will get carded, even when nobody else in the entire group does. I am that friend. I could go out with my parents, and only I will get carded. Not even my younger, not even 21 year old, sister gets carded. She just gets drinks. But I’m the one who looks underage. Ok.

If everyone in the group gets asked to prove their age, that’s one thing. The server is just protecting their job. And probably the whole establishment. But to single one person out, what is the purpose of even asking? Why waste both of our time? What was the thinking going into this? If one of them is at least 21, all of them must be 21? How does that work? Some of my friends have even decided to take No Shave November all the way through the pandemic and look like they belong in a frat house. And still I’m the only one who gets carded.

Clearly I’m unbothered by my young face. If I still look like a high schooler maybe I’ll look like a 20-something in my late 40s so there are perks. Eventually. So they tell me. Once you hit 21 you get a few consecutive solid exciting birthdays, though. Taylor Swift year, Jordan year, Kobe year, rent a car year. And then you’re in your late 20s and it becomes less exciting from there. You have to wait for 30 and by that point the over the hill jokes are coming out. So you’re excited on the outside, but sad on the inside.

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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THE JOYS OF MOVING

Have you ever moved in your life? There’s probably a high chance that the answer is yes. Moving is a thing that we have to do occasionally, or frequently, or at specified intervals depending on your situation. Personally, moving is not my favorite. Moving on, yes, but moving between physical locations, no. There’s something very freeing about stepping away from something in your life that’s bringing you down a bit, or is outright toxic. It’s like when you take a week, or a few months / years, off at the gym and then do a brief workout and feel like a million bucks! And also when you see immediate results because it’s been so long.

Enough gym analogies, I’m not trying to bring the mood down. In summary, live your best life and move on from things that are not helping you grow. On the opposite side of that spectrum, however, we have moving. As in I live in one location and am now moving somewhere completely different. To live, not for an extended vacation. Which means that you need to bring your life with you. The good, the bad, and the random junk you thought you threw out during the last move.

In my opinion, there’s not many exciting things about the moving part of getting a new place. The exciting place is having a new address and getting to explore your new surroundings. Make new friends, find your new daily coffee shop, understand exactly how long it takes to get to the chinese take out place, create a list of new favorite bars and restaurants, explore new running routes, etc. Those things are super fun and I’m all about that … once I’m settled.

Why is the process of packing and unpacking things so difficult? When you break it down, you put things in a box and then you take things out of a box. Somewhere between the base problem and how we tend to do it a whole mess gets thrown in. Literally. If you ever want a good motivation to clean out what you own, move. I’m still not sure why we have two entire kitchen cabinets full of assorted cups, glasses, and mugs when there’s only two of us. Some of those could probably be donated. Do we need four different shoe racks in our closet that don’t even hold all of our shoes? Probably not.

So we have this … stuff. And you need to get it all into boxes. Efficiently and safely. Those being the key terms here. Anyone can shove an assortment of things into a box, but if you do it right you minimize the total number of boxes and, thus, the total effort required to take said boxes from one location to another. You also minimize potential damage to breakable things like cups, glasses, and mugs. Packaging pillows are a must have, but not the styrofoam nonsense – they leave residue particles everywhere. They’re an invasive species like ARTIFICIAL TURF.

If moving was simply boxes, it wouldn’t be so bad. But alas we have furniture. Why is all furniture either awkward or ridiculously heavy? Why can’t it be something easy to carry, somewhat lightweight, and stylish all in one? It doesn’t fit in cars. It doesn’t fit well in pickup trucks, at least not all of it. So you end up with a moving truck. And moving trucks are an expense. How expensive is up to your budget. Sure you can pay people to box your things and move them for you, but I don’t want strangers packing up certain things. Feels like a weird invasion of privacy and somehow there’s always a portion of your things that mysteriously disappear when they do it.

If all you had to do was pay for the moving truck, it would be fairly affordable. But since Lucifer himself invented moving you have either down payments, or security deposits. You have set up fees for utilities. You have to deal with switching Internet providers. Or worse, staying with your same one and transferring locations. You have to buy new things for the new space because when in Rome. You end up with boxes everywhere and piles of items to donate that you either have to pay someone to pick up, or you have to transport yourself. When all of that is said and done, you actually have to unpack what you, or strangers, dropped off. And get re-settled. Who has time honestly.

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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TREADMILLS ARE MODERN DAY TORTURE DEVICES

It’s summertime, which means that it’s warm outside and the humidity devil is well upon us. And who wants to run in a literal sauna? Not me, that’s for freaking sure. I usually don’t want to run in general because there are so many other options today in the fitness industry that are not as boring. Yet I still do it from time to time so that I don’t feel as bad about eating entire pints of ice cream by myself or missing 100% of my stand hours during a work day.

Until recently I genuinely believed that no human looked forward to the humidity. Except for those who willingly choose to live in Florida, of course. You might as well put yourself in an oven and bake – that’s how it feels every time you step outside in the deep deep south. Regardless, I finally met someone who prefers 100% humidity over any other weather. And the kicker is that they live up north. Like north, north. So I’m not fully connecting the dots there, and I thought I was super weird, but now I realize that there are some even weirder than I.

But I digress. Running. Heat. Humidity. Bleh. For the sane of us, we tend to look inwards when faced with this challenge. Inwards to the gym where there are running devices that prevent us from having to lose every ounce of water weight we have in 30 seconds. I’m talking about the treadmill. I have to be honest, when you look through the cardio section and see treadmills stacked up next to stationary bikes, ellipticals, stair steppers, rowing machines, etc. they look very unassuming. Like an awkward shaped L with no pedals, or fancy buttons, or preferred form, or anything. That’s how they get you.

Treadmills are evil. They draw you in with their guise of quick and simple to use while failing to mention you will be on the most monotonous ride of your life. Literally, you go nowhere. Part of the appeal (strong word, I know, but it’s on the pro side) for running is getting to explore, be outdoors, and get to move about. The manufactured machine removes all of those options from the overall experience. There is no exploring. There is no outdoors. There is no moving about. It’s all simulated in screens that take you through foreign lands and beautiful trails, or towns, to trick you into thinking you’re having a good time.

While I appreciate the technological advancements, and drone footage hours, that lead to perceived exploration, it’s not the same as being on those trails. Staying on this topic a bit longer, why are so many of the covered areas uphill? Why would you trick me into thinking I have to exert more energy? I constantly find myself getting closer and closer to the screen because my incline is on 0, but in my mind I’m climbing a mountain. 

Also, why are all of the trails so narrow? Why do none of the people who accidentally get caught in the filming process never know the drone is there until it’s literally on their head and they get startled? That startles me! I like to give fellow people a good berth when running so they don’t think I’m trying to pickpocket them. Or scare them as the technology version likes to do. Share the road, SHARE THE SIDEWALK, share the airspace, just share. I have to believe that whoever is flying them can see the people ahead and have the ability to avoid them … but apparently that is also incorrect. 

If the fake nature isn’t your jam, you can always turn to the TVs in the gym for mindless entertainment. Although they always, always, are on either the news, some ridiculous drama, a cooking show, or a sports network. The news is as boring as running and is always so depressing – hard pass. Dramas are my least favorite option anyways – the world has enough drama, I don’t need fake drama. The cooking shows always make me hungry, which is not ideal in the middle of a workout. And the sports networks remind me that I’m a mere peasant in the fitness world compared to the professional athletes out there who get paid to run indoors. Basically, all of those options suck too.

I guess you could also watch people, but you have to be sneaky about it. Have you ever caught someone running on a treadmill hardcore staring at you? It’s terrifying. The intensity of the glare, mostly because they’re running and it’s hard to look like you don’t hate everything when you’re running, combined with the sweat and heavy breathing is honestly a bit creepy. In short, there are not good eye wandering options indoors on the treadmill. There’s really no good reason to get on a treadmill. If you must run, go outdoors. But know that it’s 2021 and there are lots, I mean LOTS, of better alternative cardio options.

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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SHOULD YOU BE IN THE FAST LANE? A QUESTIONNAIRE

Driving is an adventure today, isn’t it? You never really know what you’re going to get with other drivers. It could be a day of luck where everyone finally understands how traffic works and remembers the rules of the road. In that case consider yourself a leprechaun because clearly you just found the end of the rainbow. Most days, however, tend to be a stressful mess where you are constantly wondering if the daydreamer in the lane next to you will start drifting into yours.

I’m not sure why STAYING IN YOUR OWN LANE is as difficult as the majority of licensed drivers in America make it seem. Weren’t we taught as literal children to stay inside the lines? Back then it was a design competition, but as adults it becomes a more dangerous excursion into someone else’s realm. A matter of life and death in some cases. It’s fascinating to me that almost every time I finally get ahead of whoever is living in the literal clouds they’re almost never watching the road. Which … is a rant for another time.

One of the more frustrating things as a driver is when you get caught behind slower traffic. If you’re trying to whip around some cars fast and furious style in the slow lane, this is on you. However, more and more often I find that I’m getting stuck behind slower traffic in the far left lane. And pretty much every lane between the fast and the slow lane come to think of it. Ironically, the lane that offers the most freedom tends to be the slow lane. And like … what? That is the exact opposite of how the system should be working.

In the spirit of education, I thought it would be a good exercise for all of us to think about our use of the fast lane. To help solidify whether we should, or should not, be in the fast lane, I came up with some very simple yes or no questions to ask yourself as you embark on any interstate. Or any road with two or more lanes for that matter. The best way to take this questionnaire is quickly – go with what your guy says and trust the process. Ok! Enough waiting, let’s get to it! Should you be in the fast lane?

  • Are there people behind you moving faster than you are? 
    • Yes? Move over
    • No? You’re all good then!
  • Are there people passing you on the right, AKA, a slower lane?
    • Yes? Move over
    • No? You’re all good then!
  • Are you doing at least the speed limit?
    • Yes? See the first two questions and make a fast judgement call
    • No? Move all the way over
  • Do you have a left hand exit, or turn, in the next half a mile?
    • Yes? You may stay, but at least hit the speed limit
    • No? See the first two questions and make a fast judgement call
  • Do you have a left hand exit, or turn, at some point in the future?
    • Yes? Is it within a half mile? If not, and you’re not at the minimum speed, get yourself all the way to the right. Otherwise, see the first two questions and make a fast judgement call
    • No? See the first two questions and make a fast judgement call
  • Do you need to pass someone who is going slower than you?
    • Yes? You’re all good then! For the passing period, then see the first two questions and make a fast judgement call
    • No? See the first two questions and make a fast judgement call

There you have it! Six simple reasons why you should, or should not, be in the fast lane. As you’ll note, it wasn’t a typo, most of the answers circle back to the first two questions about reading the room. If there is a car, or many a car, moving slightly faster, or significantly faster, than you are, chances are good that you should move to the right. Nothing wrong with being in the slower lanes. Some people like speed, some people like making it to their destination without a ticket. Zero judgement … as long as you aren’t slowing me down.

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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