so i thought i was signing up for a knitting class, but turns out it was some weird crochet cult thing and i ended up sitting there for 3 hours trying to convince them i was not interested in learning the secret history of yarn like uh what, and they all looked at me like i had three heads or something, awkward vibes all around, ugh
i thought i was being a good neighbor when i offered to help with the garden, but all i really did was mess it up even worse—now the flowers are all droopy and the only thing i planted was guilt.
sitting on my tiny balcony, looking at my friends thriving in their fancy apartments while im stuck in this shoebox with a view of the dumpster, sometimes i wonder if all my time spent working remotely is just for me to pay off a couch i don’t even like but it feels heavy thinking that’s my only furniture while everyone else is doing the brunch thing every weekend and i can barely scrape together groceries.
sitting on my tiny balcony, looking at my friends thriving in their fancy apartments while im stuck in this shoebox with a view of the dumpster, sometimes i wonder if all my time spent working remotely is just for me to pay off a couch i don’t even like but it feels heavy thinking that’s my only furniture while everyone else is doing the brunch thing every weekend and i can barely scrape together groceries.
every day i show up to visit my parent like i'm auditioning for the lead role in a soap opera no one is watching, meanwhile my siblings treat it like a season they canceled last year. it is wild how a room full of strangers can turn into a place where i discover who actually cares, spoiler alert: it is not them.