Category: When You’re Stuck

What to Do When Your Work TAKES OVER YOUR ENTIRE LIFE—and You Need to Get Some Friggin’ Boundaries, Up In This Joint

I have a little ritual called Eucalyptus Spearmint. I’ve got it in body lotion, and in spray, and in candle (obviously), and I’ll put my little feet up on the ottoman in the living room (okay, fine, they’re big, entirely undainty feet), and I’ll slowly, and tenderly, give myself the best fucking foot massage this side of the equator. Then I’ll squirt more lotion into my palm, warming it between my hands, and then spreading it all over my calves,

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Sometimes You Fall Into Things. You Fall Into People, Fall Into Places, Fall Into Patterns, Fall Into Deep Dark Obsessions With Red Velvet Cake. (AHEM.)

The other day I tweeted about how I watched The Notebook and so CLEARLY I was living my best life. And then I started thinking about how much I love that phrase, because it’s a good reminder, isn’t it? Am I really living my best life? What does that even mean? Sometimes you fall into things. You fall into people, fall into places, fall into patterns, fall into deep dark obsessions with red velvet cake. Ahem. (As someone who is

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If Somebody Told Me to Pick a Husband at Age Twenty-Three, I’d Likely Be Waking Up Next to Some Guy Who Can’t Spell “Lemon.”

You know why we’re all unhappy and restless and jaded and depressed? LIFE IS BORING US TO TEARS. Boredom is the devil, but most people don’t realize they’re bored. They’re busy working. They’re busy running. They’re busy doing ALL THE ERRANDS and keeping up with those fucksticks, The Jones’. It doesn’t feel like they’re bored, but they are. They’re bored with life. They’re bored with themselves. They’re bored with the very act of breathing. They’re so very busy, but they’re

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WE ARE WASTING OUR BRAINS ON BULLSHIT (And Other Darling Sentiments)

You know those creeps who never drink any water and you’re all, “BUT YOUR CELLS! YOUR CELLS ARE SHRIVELING LIKE LITTLE CALIFORNIA RAISINS!” (Unless this is the kind of thing that only goes through my brain, in which case, welcome to my inner landscape, ya’ll.) I feel the same way about time. There are so many people who aren’t drinking enough time; they’re spending it, they’re bleeding it dry, they’re “making the most of every moment,” but they aren’t retaining

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If You Feel Like a Big, Fat Imposter Who Doesn’t Deserve Anything and Worries About EVERYTHING, Read This. It’s a GOOD Thing.

I’m writing this from a place that could almost be mistaken for the Italian countryside, were I not surrounded by lizards and toucans and bullfrogs the size of a fucking dinosaur. Rather, I am high up in the hills of Central America overlooking the Costa Rican valley from my squishy, pancake lounger—it sort of reminds me of a bloated fat cat—while four other guests—two delightful gay couples—breast stroke around in the swimming pool below me and ponder how much it

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The One-Hour Rule for Loving the Sh*t Out of Your Life

A few years ago, there was this tacky term that made everybody cringe but also made everybody drool with wonder: lifestyle design. (Okay, fine, it was like ten years ago and I’m officially ancient.) The term always annoyed me, because it was widely represented by a bunch of twenty-something hopefuls traveling the world with their laptops (okay, fine, it was me), and the whole thing just reeked of one big, cheesy platitude. Not to be confused with a cheese plate,

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Self-Care Isn’t Always Glamorous.

Sooooo, it’s the holidays, and you know what that means? We all need to figure out how the hell we’re going to take care of our drooling, forgetful, overwhelmed selves, come the new year. (Oh, you’re not drooling and forgetful? GET OFF MY YARD.) Which brings up the topic of self-care. Jesus christ we’re bad at this, aren’t we? We’ve got more awareness around the importance of, you know, taking a minute to sh*t without our phones, and yet, it

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Stop. Just Stop. Stop the Overdelivering, Overcommitting, Overworking, Overexertion. Because Overwhelm? We’re Over YOU.

You’ll let people down, okay? It’s part of it. You can’t avoid it. It is actually, physically impossible for you to be everywhere and do everything and be everything to everyone with a plate of fucking cookies in your hand. (BUT NICE TRY, THOUGH.) Doing one thing that matters to you *requires you* to stop doing many things that matter to someone else. Just like you’ve only got so much space in your stomach at every meal, you’ve only got

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Burnout’s A Bitch—So Maybe You Should Sit Your Ass Down

My friend Sarah Peck is a damn good writer. She’s also in the midst of writing a book, and I’m proud to say that we’re represented by the same literary agency. (Bless those folks for having to wrangle the likes of us both!) She said something the other day that I really wanted to share with you, because in a culture that’s all about the hustle, hustle, motherfucking hustle, I’m pretty sure that everyone thinks that if they’re not working

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