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NO.② version

Hard Thing

Folding a fitted sheet without it looking like a crumpled regret. It’s like trying to wrestle an octopus into a tidy square—just when you think you’ve got it, another corner slips loose.

Hard Thing No.2

Closing tabs instead of letting them pile up like a digital junk drawer. It’s like convincing yourself you *might* need that random article from three months ago.

Hard Thing No.3

Acting normal when someone waves, and it turns out they weren’t waving at you. It’s like trying to style out a fall—grace is nowhere to be found.

Hard Thing No.4

Remembering why you walked into a room. It’s like your brain sent you on a mission but forgot to hand over the instructions.

Hard Thing No.5

Not singing along when your favorite song plays in public. It’s like trying to keep a secret that your whole body wants to shout.

Hard Thing No.6

Keeping a houseplant alive. It’s like trying to read someone’s mind—too much water? Not enough? Who knows, until it’s suddenly wilting in silent judgment.

Hard Thing No.7

Not rewriting the same to-do list instead of actually doing the things. It’s like organizing the deck chairs on a ship that’s still not moving.

Hard Thing No.8

Untangling headphones without questioning all your life decisions. It’s like solving a tiny, infuriating puzzle you definitely didn’t sign up for.

Hard Thing No.9

Trying to keep a straight face when someone says something unintentionally hilarious. It’s like holding back laughter while being tickled—your face betrays you every time.

Hard Thing No.10

Walking past a mirror without stopping to check if you still look like yourself. It’s like a reflex—one second you’re on your way, the next you’re adjusting your hair like it’s a work of art.

Hard Thing No.11

Waking up early without hitting snooze. It’s like trying to break up with your bed—no matter how many times you leave, it keeps pulling you back in.

Hard Thing No.12

Remembering people’s names right after they introduce themselves. It’s like catching a butterfly with your bare hands—one second it’s there, the next it’s vanished into thin air.