so there I was, three hours deep into planning the ultimate origami birthday surprise for a complete stranger I found on a niche forum. feeling proud of my paper crane army, I sent the epic screenshot to my mom instead of the group chat. you know, the one where I wrote, “just wait till you see my twelve thousand folding techniques.” guess who now thinks I need a hobby?
literally just found out my sibling can play the tuba while riding a unicycle, and honestly, I can't even make toast without burning it. how did I get stuck with the loser hobby of ‘getting lost in the cereal aisle’? like, who needs talent when you have an Olympic-level skill of emotional eating and getting really passionate about my collection of expired coupons?
ok but how come my sibling has an entire designated corner in the living room for their "artistic expression" while my contributions to the fridge are limited to the last four bags of half-eaten chips? i mean, does a handmade macaroni sculpture really deserve a shrine?
ok but how come my sibling has an entire designated corner in the living room for their "artistic expression" while my contributions to the fridge are limited to the last four bags of half-eaten chips? i mean, does a handmade macaroni sculpture really deserve a shrine?
it's not that i care too much about the latest drama with cameron norrie, it's just that my phone literally decided to love my own text more than me. like, i accidentally hearted a message to myself about how i’m thinking of getting a tattoo of a plant because i need to feel rooted, you know? then i realized my crush saw it, and now they probably think i'm delusional or have a crush on myself. and...