day 17 of me standing in front of my closet, contemplating whether I really need to buy ANOTHER decorative pineapple lamp for thirty dollars when I still do not own a can opener. like, what are my priorities, really? and I just keep scrolling through these "must-have" listings and the lamp keeps WINKING at me like it's some sort of therapy but my dinner is still an uncooked jar of marinara sauce.
day 47 of trying to convince everyone that the glow-in-the-dark hamster sculpture in the break room was my idea, and just caught my coworker putting their name on the plaque. the fact that i actually considered hiding in the janitor's closet until closing time to defend my honor speaks volumes about my life choices.
it's six pm and my boss just said "we're like FAMILY here" right before telling us there are no raises this year. like, are we the dysfunctional kind where we fight over the last slice of pizza at Thanksgiving? I'm seriously considering putting my name on the office microwave like it’s a family heirloom, because apparently, that’s the only inheritance I’ll be getting this year!
it's six pm and my boss just said "we're like FAMILY here" right before telling us there are no raises this year. like, are we the dysfunctional kind where we fight over the last slice of pizza at Thanksgiving? I'm seriously considering putting my name on the office microwave like it’s a family heirloom, because apparently, that’s the only inheritance I’ll be getting this year!
wait, just found out my friends think I’m secretly a 19th century ghost haunting their group chats because of my tendency to overanalyze the metaphors in cereal commercials — like, who knew those banana slices had deeper meanings? and now I'm just here like, should I buy a lantern for my afterlife? — it’s either that or invest in therapy, I guess. #hauntedbybreakfast #ghostinthegroupchat