I Can't, Vol. 21

It's that time of week again, when I lament or (not as often) praise the things I can't. Join me on this literary journey, won't you? I can't...

and probably will never be able to, no matter the circumstances or setting, shake the innate feeling of anxiety when my work email goes off after work hours. It's a sad reality anyone who is even slightly serious about being a professional must face once they've chosen to cross that line and upload work email onto their phone. It's like, you know it's probably just some silly automated crap, but that one time it's your boss or a superior needing something or reminding you of something you overlooked... those are the times that give you poop stomach on demand.

I can't...

get up in the mornings to workout and I NEED TO. I HAVE TO. PLEASE SOMEONE TELL ME HOW. PLEASE. I need to read some sort of miracle story about a lazy ass who somehow trained herself to workout in the mornings and how much it's changed her life. Someone find it or write it and send it to me. It can be made up - it just needs to be super convincing.

I can't...

with the Cosmo Sex Tips Instagram account. I didn't discover it until this past weekend, and it has now climbed to the top five points on my "Why Didn't I Think Of That?" list (right behind being born as Mindy Kaling). The stuff they write is LOL funny. Like scream-laugh funny. At least I think so. Here's an example of one of their "tips":

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I can't...

with how quickly I just chugged my skinny vanilla latte from Starbucks this morning. Omg. It tasted like sexuality, but I have a feeling I'm going to regret having downed frothy milk that fast very, very soon. Hey, ladies restroom: CLEAR OUT! AMIRITE?

I can't...

stop baking things and bringing them into my office. I'm already known here as the girl who can't stop baking things and bringing them into the office. In fact, just yesterday, my boss was all "I think today is the first day you've showed up to work without a baked good." So I brought in banana bread today. I can't help it - I like to try new recipes, but I don't like to keep them around and pull a Hansel and Gretel witch move on myself, slowly but surely fattening myself up for cannibalism. So, instead, I have a taste and then pawn the rest off on my boyfriend or my coworkers. NATURALLY.

I can't...

understand people how don't gchat at all during the day. Like not even a little. What are you doing? Working? Like all day? (Yes, I know some jobs are way more important than others so these employees literally have no time to gchat. I'm not referring to you important people. I'm referring to normal, workaday people).

I can't...

with this comment I found in the review section of a really fabulous pair of mules I purchased yesterday off Forever21.com:

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Did you find the magical sentence yet? "I'm 5'3" and 117 lbs and my feet are maybe a bit wide but not fatty..." What could your height and weight stats possibly have to do with shoes? Why list them? Why do I need to know how tall you are and how thin you are in order to decide what size shoe I need or if these shoes are worth it? Also, thank you for "admitting" that they run small. I know that must've been really hard for you, but the first step is admitting, so you're well on your way to recovery.

I can't...

and I'm sorry for this in advance to new moms I maybe know (although, I don't know any new mom super well because I don't have any friends with babies... yet), but after a certain point, I seriously can't with how a new mom's Instagram feed becomes pictures of her child and that's it. I know it's exciting and amazing - I know. But, every once in a while, I'd like to see your face? Or like your lunch? Or just something that isn't your baby's face? I'm not saying your child is ugly. Most of the babies on my feed are attractive. It's just... sigh. I don't know what it is and I'm sure I'm gonna have every mom who follows me now unfollow me for punishment, but it's just a lot, guys. It's a lot of baby. You're all, "Well no one is MAKING you follow me, bitch!" But that's the thing. I like you! I like seeing your stuff. Okay I'll stop now since most of you have probably wished me a childless future at this point.

I can't...

believe I'm saying this because I never think/talk/wonder about these things, but I find it really incomplete and odd when a bride doesn't wear a veil. It's like "No, guys. No veil necessary. That's way too formal. This is totes cas." 

I can't...

get over how long I've had my boyfriend's Christmas presents bought and hidden away and how bored I am with them now. You know when you buy someone a gift way too early and, by the time you give it to them, it's lost all its luster for you? I envision myself handing him presents next week and being like, "Here. Woo. Enjoy, I guess. But you probably won't because it's all super lame" whereas, a month ago, I was like "OMGBESTGIFTSEVERIMSOCUTEHESGONNALIKEMEEVENMOREAFTERTHISHEHEHEHEHE." Should've procrastinated.

I can't...

stress enough how much you need to follow Samir on Instagram, Twitter, Buzzfeed, any and every social media platform in which you find sprinklings of him. I can't even remember how I first came across this person, but he's essentially the next Fat Jewish or Fuck Jerry except all his shit is original (for the most part). He's that hilarious and dark and twisted and speaks all the #truth, every day. Dare I say he might be one of the best things to come out of Buzzfeed since listicles? I dare and I just said it.

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That's all I can't for today.

xox,

emma

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