forgave my neighbor for stealing my garden gnomes, but now I know I can't trust someone whose idea of a 'home decor' heist includes three dwarf statues. like, we literally live in a suburban drama where the stakes are higher than the height of my fence, but can I ever really forgive when they put that cursed flamingo next to them? I guess I’ll just keep watching my back like I'm in a true crime do...
the way that gold is skyrocketing makes me question every life choice i've made—like, my parents had their first house when they were my age. i can’t even keep a cactus alive without Googling it every day. meanwhile, gold is suddenly a solid investment. what do i have to offer? a half-finished vision board and a collection of existential dread. talk about pressure—maybe i should just invest in bei...
it’s three a.m. and I just realized I ghosted the guy who texted me about a weird, toxic avocado tree in his backyard. I couldn’t face explaining that my mental energy was spent fighting with my childhood teddy bear over who really ate the last slice of cake. now I’m just wondering if I should call him back or if I’ll be forever haunted by a ghostly avocado with drama issues.
it’s three a.m. and I just realized I ghosted the guy who texted me about a weird, toxic avocado tree in his backyard. I couldn’t face explaining that my mental energy was spent fighting with my childhood teddy bear over who really ate the last slice of cake. now I’m just wondering if I should call him back or if I’ll be forever haunted by a ghostly avocado with drama issues.
so, like, i used to share all my exciting news, you know? then people started throwing around guilt like it was confetti. “how dare you be happy while i’m, like, battling my twenty pet peeves and an existential crisis?” it’s honestly wild how alan alda is out there turning ninety while i'm here dreading my next bad hair day, thinking maybe he had the right idea staying low-key. i just sit here scr...