I still don't have a bookshelf with a rolling ladder, so no, I'm afraid your email did not "find me well.”

I don't know who needs to hear this, but one day, you will pull a loose book from a bookshelf and that hidden door will finally open for you.

At the end of the day, don’t we all just want to open up an independent bookstore that doubles as a café and triples as a pet rescue?

If you don’t occasionally eat an entire pint of Häagen-Dazs Belgian chocolate ice cream straight out of the container whilst watching a documentary on koalas, then are you really living life to the fullest?

If you don’t want to read Edgar Allan Poe together by the fireplace whilst sharing a plate of midnight croissants in an abandoned château in the French countryside during a full moon with the sound of wolves in the distance, then please don’t tell me you’re “down for a good time."

Don't allow anyone to tell you that reading Agatha Christie in a Scottish Highlands cottage in front of a crackling fire during a raging storm whilst enjoying a plate of freshly-baked emotional support scones and multiple cups of tea "doesn't classify" as self-care.

If you don't believe that magical places still exist, I ask that you simply walk into your local independent bookstore.

I'm a firm believer that when two people who value the Oxford comma find one another, their relationship is destined to be fulfilling, beautiful, and everlasting.

Okay but hear me out: A nighttime café in which the only lighting comes from lanterns, free pastry samples are served to all who enter, the walls are adorned with van Gogh paintings, there are emotional support black cats roaming about, and Edgar Allan Poe readings occur during every full moon.

Just a friendly reminder that your desire to spend the weekend reading Agatha Christie and eating emotional support scones by a crackling fire in a Scottish Highlands cottage is valid. Don’t allow anyone to disrespect you by telling you otherwise.

I'm biased, but please support your local theatre, and for that matter, please support your local café, bookstore, bakery, and library. We need you all.😊

Therapist: What brings you in today? Me: I still don't have a bookshelf with a rolling ladder. Therapist: Oh dear. Let me put on the kettle.

Just a friendly reminder to support and appreciate your local library ghost.

Be a quaint café in a world full of Starbucks.

A person's attractiveness increases by a minimum of 53% when they have a library card.

Someone just told me that cinnamon rolls are ”overrated” and long story short it’s always painful when a friendship ends.

But they assured me that cats are "less needy."

It’s the perfect day to disappear into a quaint bookstore, never to be seen again.

If you don’t want to read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein together by lantern light in a lighthouse on the Irish coast during a full moon, then please don’t refer to yourself as “marriage material.”

Sometimes, self-care is reading books, eating pastries, and petting cats.

Standing up for what you believe in is important, noble, and necessary.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but nobody has the right to tell you that a bookshelf with a rolling ladder “won’t fix you.”

Yes waiter, I'll have a cup of tea, a scone, and if it's not too much trouble, perhaps some precedented times?

I really think life‘s struggles can be summed up by one simple sentiment: So many books, so little time.

Sure, dinner and a film is fine, but can we please normalize bookstore dates, cemetery picnic dates, museum dates, library dates, and stargazing dates?

Surround yourself with the kind of people who consider The Princess Bride to be one of the greatest films of all-time.

At the moment, I'm regrettably not exploring a quaint bookstore on a cobblestone street in Vienna during a raging thunderstorm, so no, I'm afraid your email did not "find me well.”

At the end of the day, don’t we all just want a cottage in the Scottish Highlands, an Agatha Christie novel, an alluring snowstorm, a crackling fire, a kettle on the stove, and a basket of freshly-baked emotional support scones?

Remember, if someone asserts that your weekend plans of reading a good book, drinking multiple cups of tea, and indulging in a scandalous amount of cinnamon rolls “doesn’t sound exciting”, then your well-being is simply not important to them.

Just a regular reminder to please support your local theatre, café, bookstore, bakery, and library. We breathe life into these places when we support them. Without us, they can't survive, and truthfully, without them, neither can we.

All I want is a cobblestone street in Prague, a dimly-lit quaint café, a rainy day, a vintage version of Bram Stoker's Dracula, and an endless supply of cappuccinos and croissants.

Just took a personality test and apparently I exhibit the traits of a quaint bookstore on a rainswept cobblestone side street in Edinburgh.

If you don’t want to read Agatha Christie together by candlelight whilst sharing tea and scones in a humble cottage in the Scottish Highlands during a raging snowstorm, then please don’t tell me you’re “open to trying new things.”

Give her what she really wants for Valentine’s Day: A bookshelf with a rolling ladder, a vintage bottle of Château Margaux, a basket of fresh pastries, and a candlelight meal where she can dine on the hearts of all who've wronged her.

Don’t allow anyone to tell you that your desire to purchase a castle on the Scottish coast is “not in line with the realities of the current housing market."

Does anyone else, in response to their pet giving a random whimper, meow, or bark, lovingly respond “I know” when in fact, you actually…don’t know?

At the end of the day, don't we all just want to read books and eat pastries?

Just a friendly reminder that you’re not being “unreasonable” if you wish to pull a book from a bookshelf and find that it opens a secret door. If anyone tells you otherwise, they were never your friend to begin with.

Someone stated that I post too frequently about the Oxford comma. I found their comment to be impudent, offensive, and untrue.

At the moment, I'm regrettably not having cappuccinos and croissants in a quaint café in Vienna, so no, I'm afraid your email did not "find me well.”

I realize that "hustle culture" is all the rage, but what about "sit in front of a cracking fire in a Scottish Highlands cottage whilst reading, sipping tea, and eating scones" culture?

Never underestimate the therapeutic benefit of freshly-baked emotional support cinnamon rolls.

At the end of the day, don’t we all just want to read Edgar Allan Poe in front of a crackling fire in a mysterious Victorian mansion on a cold winter's night during a full moon with the sound of wolves in the distance whilst enjoying a plate of freshly-baked croissants?

Sometimes, self-care is spending a day exploring bookstores, museums, greenhouses, art galleries, and libraries.

Okay but hear me out: A winter book club, and we all bring soup.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you’re under absolutely no obligation to justify yourself to anyone if you choose to spend the entire weekend drinking tea, reading books, and eating a scandalous amount of croissants.

Remember, if someone tells you that your dream of having a bookshelf with a rolling ladder is "unrealistic", they were never your friend to begin with.