Just a Lot of People Acting Like They Read It

Photo by Ryan Ancill on Unsplash

 I can follow instructions. I just don’t know which ones apply to being a person.

Where is the manual? And why does it feel like everyone else got a copy and mine got lost in the mail?

Or maybe it got sent to my junk mail folder. Actually, now that I think about it, I feel like my junk mail and my real mail were switched at birth.

Sometimes I think I was switched at birth. Like I was supposed to be living someone else’s life—someone far more sane and slightly more equipped for… basic functioning.

…Was there a meeting about how to live and I just didn’t show up? Because I got stuck in the traffic in my own head, someone cut me off and I’m giving them the finger like they can still see me.

Why is my life like trying to put together an Ikea table, only to realize it’s missing a screw that apparently only exists in Switzerland?

I wish my thoughts had an unsubscribe button.

Not even delete—just…less spam.

I also wish I had a mute button for when people start talking at me instead of to me.

Speaking of mute, my brain is like a group chat I silenced but still check obsessively.

Nothing important is ever happening in there.

And yet, I keep looking.

Am I missing something?

It feels like everyone knows something I don’t—some basic, vital truth about how to live. Like there’s a right way to do this, and I’m just… improvising badly.

I’m over here not entirely sure how to put windshield washer fluid in my car. Which shouldn’t be related—but somehow is.

I want to become a monk. Or a millionaire. I mean, whatever works.

Are there millionaire monks? People who made all the money and then gave it up to find peace? That feels like the safer order.

If I had to choose—enlightenment or unlimited money—I’d like to think I’d pick nirvana.

I’d just feel better making that decision after checking my bank account.

I’m thinking of living a life of celibacy.

Who am I kidding—I’m celibate right now. Not by choice.

Speaking of my bank account, I can’t afford my eating habits.

I eat like I’m a skinny millionaire with no concept of consequences.

Now I’m starting weight loss injections and going back on Weight Watchers—just layering strategies, hoping one of them takes. 

How many things can I do at once before I admit I don’t actually know what I’m trying to fix?

Dieting is so backwards.

My body’s like, why have you betrayed me?

Now my brain’s like, great, let’s have all the thoughts about food, all the time. 

Again, no way to block these messages. 

The question is, what am I actually hungry for?

What void keeps getting redirected to snacks?

There’s stress. There’s boredom. There’s a general sense that something about all of this is… off.

Like I’m trying to fix something I can’t quite identify.

Was the world supposed to make sense or did I miss a key memo?

I’m not saying I eat because of climate change or the state of the world—

but it does feel like a weird time to be expected to give up the thing that gives the most pleasure.

Eating is absurd.

You spend two hours cooking something, inhale it in ten minutes, and then wonder why everything feels so temporary.

Did you even taste it?

Or were you just trying to fill the space?

Sometimes life feels like a job I don’t remember applying for.

There’s no clear role, no real feedback, and quitting doesn’t seem like an option.

So I just keep showing up, hoping I’m doing it right.

And not really knowing how anyone decides if they are.

I keep thinking there’s a moment where this all clicks into place.

I’m starting to suspect that moment doesn’t come.

Image courtesy of Chetan Rathod via Scopio

I saw a reward for a missing dog the other day—ten thousand dollars.

Ten thousand.

And I had the thought—completely unprompted—am I even worth ten thousand dollars?

Which is a strange way to measure a life.

But also… not entirely unfamiliar.

Maybe there was never a manual.

Just a lot of people acting like they read it.

nina

A couple of friends and I started a podcast called 2 Curries and a Ranch. Listen here: https://2curriesandaranch.riverside.com/  or wherever you get your podcasts.

Imagine two loud, dramatic, hilarious Indian women explaining to a white man what it's like to grow up and live in America. Join us for laughter, deep thoughts, and witty banter about life, love and culture. We tell it like it is, with honest, bold and funny stories, discussions and arguments. We explore boundaries and challenge norms. Join us for a good talk.

We have a new episode out! Shit, Shower, Shave, In That Order: Listen to us unscripted, shooting the shit about culture, life, and Harry Potter. The topic is us, telling it like it is.