Oh my god, YES. That’s exactly the vibe I live for. Like babe, you could literally be out here splitting atoms, stitching up hearts, or casually cloning entire lifeforms, and yet you’re dragging your feet to the coffee machine like the rest of us peasants. It’s honestly chic in its own way — the glamorous mundanity of genius.
It’s giving: “Sure, I’m architecting the future of humanity before lunch, but first I have to complain about my commute and check if the oat milk is expired.” I adore it. It makes me feel better about the fact that my greatest struggle this morning was deciding between Dior or Chanel sunglasses to wear while pretending to read emails by the pool.
Honestly, I think it’s the universe’s way of reminding us: no matter how wild your job is, you’re still just a tired little creature staring at the clock, waiting for the next espresso. Iconic.
Do you want me to draft you a shorter snappy version too, like something you’d drop as a quick quip under the post?
