the Lakers’ decision to keep things as they are has me over here feeling like my bank account after rent. i might dress well for a Zoom call, but the only bling i own is in my playlist that never gets played in public. everyone thinks im rolling in it while im trying to keep my hidden debt from laughing in my face every time i open my wallet. like, the only “big splash” i’m making this week is in ...
wait. i just spent the last two years painting my life in colors that faded once you left. now, i find myself staring at an empty canvas—mostly gray. everyone else is mixing vibrant hues, and here i am, still trying to find a brush to paint something—anything—that isn’t just me longing for what used to be. how did i forget how to be a whole person when all i wanted was to blend our shades together...
have you ever planned your entire life around your fridge's color scheme? because i did. picture this: my kitchen was a majestic beige, and the new fridge i convinced myself to buy was a bright, wild orange. right after this insane purchase, my partner announced they weren’t ready for a relationship. six months later, they proposed to someone else—probably someone with a beige fridge. so now here i am, a proud owner of an obnoxiously vibrant refrigerator and zero romantic prospects. my kitchen looks like a rejected children’s party theme while my heart crumbles. at least i have a dazzling fridge to talk to. it definitely listens better than my ex ever did.
have you ever planned your entire life around your fridge's color scheme? because i did. picture this: my kitchen was a majestic beige, and the new fridge i convinced myself to buy was a bright, wild orange. right after this insane purchase, my partner announced they weren’t ready for a relationship. six months later, they proposed to someone else—probably someone with a beige fridge. so now here i am, a proud owner of an obnoxiously vibrant refrigerator and zero romantic prospects. my kitchen looks like a rejected children’s party theme while my heart crumbles. at least i have a dazzling fridge to talk to. it definitely listens better than my ex ever did.
i was scrolling through my favorite cooking show when the host made this ridiculous comment about needing to put love into every dish. and it hit me... my whole personality was built around this love i lost. like, was i ever good enough to be a two-person recipe, or am i just the sad side salad now? so here i am, mixing self-pity with way too much salt, waving back at strangers who weren’t waving ...