Where have all the sane people gone? Asking for a friend...

 

Does this chair make my butt look big?

My office chair is playing the world’s slowest game of hide-and-seek, and apparently, I’m losing. One moment, I’m at eye level with my screen, typing away, and the next, I’m staring up at my keyboard like a kid looking over a candy shelf. How do I not notice myself sinking into the abyss of bad hydraulics? Has my chair developed stealth skills, or am I just too distracted by Love is Blind on Netflix to feel the slow betrayal beneath me?

This is chair number four to pull this stunt. Four. Either office chair manufacturers have a vendetta against me, or my backside has been indulging a little too much during snack breaks. At this point, I’m not sure if I should blame the crappy hydraulics or bravely admit that gravity’s winning this round.

The Silver Lining can Bite Me, and so can DHS

What's new in my life? Oh, nothing major—just contemplating whether I should stick a fork in myself or go the extra mile and grab a knife. You know, for effect!!

I cannot, for the life of me, deal with redoing things I’ve already done! You pour in your time, effort, and money to wrap up a project, and then someone swoops in with, “Oh, by the way, I’ve changed my mind. Can you do this instead?” Can I, Brenda? CAAAN I?! ARGH.

Right now, I'm in the early stages of getting my center accredited, and, honestly, I'd rather wrestle a grizzly over a honey pot. The DHS requirements? They make about as much sense as bringing a piñata to a library. I can already picture myself spending weeks hunting down obscure forms, running on zero sleep (and clinging to whatever sliver of sanity I can salvage), only for them to hit me with, “Oh, we’ve updated the guidelines. Forget the forms; we actually need you to juggle flaming pineapples while reciting the alphabet backward as an offering to the gods of Quality Daycare! No pressure, though." .. as long as you don’t drop a flaming fruit or confuse 'Z' and 'Y' it should be FINE!

The worst part? They’re accountable to NO ONE. Meanwhile, I’m over here playing an endless game of bureaucratic hopscotch where the squares seem to move faster than I can jump. But here’s the plot twist—I swear this entire industry is teetering on the edge of a massive meltdown. And honestly? DHS better strap in, because if they don’t figure it out soon, hundreds of parents are going to be left completely without childcare. Which, fun fact, might make DHS jobs as obsolete as fax machines.

Oh, wait! Look at me finding a silver lining. It’s like a treasure hunt, really—if you squint hard enough, you’ll always spot one! Cheers to that!

Anyway, that’s my update. How’s YOUR life going?

Hiatus

I haven’t been posting on my blog much lately. Is it laziness? Probably. Burnout? Oh, absolutely. Or maybe—just maybe—I’ve reached that bizarre point where I feel like I have nothing to say, which is both hilarious and alarming because, between these lines, I’m out here living a whole life. I mean, come on—if I truly have nothing to write about, what does that say about my life? (Spoiler alert: nothing flattering.)

People say I act like I don’t care but it’s not an act