I Can't, Vol. 41

I can't...

with the awkwardness of there being just enough space between you and someone behind you when entering a building and not being able to determine whether or not you should be a good citizen and hold the door for them or be a bitch and forge onward without them. It's literally a daily struggle for me and I hate it. Usually I'm a nice person at the last minute and hold the door that extra few seconds, but sometimes I just can't deal.

I can't...

when the elevator doors open and there are people chomping at the bit to jump right in before you can exit. Like, CHILL. Did no one ever teach you people proper elevator etiquette? Stand back and wait your turn, crazies. 

I can't...

with "brekkie." I just can't. It's almost as bad as "adulting" and "amazeballs." Maybe worse. I will never say it, and if I do, it'll be in a super, high-pitched, white girl voice solely to be ironic. 

I can't...

handle the mornings being cold and the afternoons being warm. I know it's that time of year where you wake up to 50º and end your day around 72º, but literally how the FUCK are we supposed to dress for that? Plus, I work downtown and have to walk about a half mile each morning from the parking garage to my office building AKA the windiest tunnel of hell. I'm not trying to essentially plan a two-for-one outfit every day; one that transitions seamlessly from chilly weather into spring weather. A GIRL CAN ONLY DON SO MANY LIGHT JACKETS. Also, like, do I wear sandals yet or keep at it with closed toe eerythang? HELP.

I can't...

express how much you need to get sriracha seasoning. YEAH YOU HEARD ME RIGHT. Get it and sprinkle it on EVERYTHING. Veggies, sandwiches, all meats, hummus, guacamole, cereal, ice cream, STRAWBERRY BANANA YOGURT (jk on those last three).

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I can't...

actually work while listening to music unless it's jazz. If anything but jazz is bumping in my headphones, I'm HUNDO P not being productive; I'm just envisioning dance routines in which I can actually twerk. Speaking of...

I can't...

twerk. I don't have the junk for it. I try and all that moves are my boobs and stomach. Is that still kinda hot tho? Maybe?

I can't...

that someone at work the other day saw me making my standard lunch (usually turkey and avocado on an english muffin with a bunch of veggies and hummus on the side), and was all "God, you're so healthy. You're cheating with that english muffin, tho. But the avocado is, like, the ultimate source of protein so you're good." .... .... FIRST OFF. NO ONE ASKED YOU. SECOND OFF. I am not "CHEATING" with an english muffin. That's what's wrong with people like that. They take "clean eating" to an extreme and think eating any ounce of carb is "cheating," when really cutting out carbs altogether is literal insanity. THIRD OFF. An avocado is NOT the "ultimate source of protein." WHAT? It provides, like, 3 fucking grams of protein. Now, potassium and good fat? Yes. Tons. But the ultimate source of PROTEIN? I cannot.

I can't...

go without coffee in the mornings, and I know that's sort of a basic bitch no-brainer, but I've tried. I've been that fool who sometimes is like "Meh. I don't need it. Let's see what happens without it." In all honesty, it doesn't wake me up or get me all jittery. It comes down to the ritual and taste, 100%. Needless to say, any time I've tried to skip it, I last about an hour before I'm like FUCK THIS.

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I can't...

that I just clicked on and proceeded to take a Buzzfeed quiz entitled "How Well Do You Know Your Fast Food Fries?" I got 11 out 15, though. 

I can't...

go on enough about Favor. I had no idea what it was up until a few weeks ago when my friends and I participated in a sex toy party, and one of my friends got incredibly drunk and was incredibly hungover the next day as a result. She ordered pho via Favor and when she sent us a screenshot of her text convo with the Favor deliverer, I knew I had to get in on the action. So, this past weekend, I did. Twice. Once for queso and tacos. Once for baked ziti. And each time was PERFECT. Also, the two extra brisket tacos WERE FOR A FRIEND, I SWEAR.

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I can't...

with the end of this season's finale of "House of Cards." Like CAN. NOT. I actually gasped and half-shrieked in terror. 

I can't...

wear top knots anymore, and this realization is very hard for me to digest. All this time, I thought I was pulling them off. I counted on them as my wet-and-lazy-hair-day-do ("wet and lazy" LULZ). But recently, it's come to my attention that I think I look pretty terrible donning them and it's time to stop. Can we all have a moment of silence for the last wet top knot I'll probably ever sport? 

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xox,

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