just found out my secret talent for breaking every game i play isn’t a skill, it’s just a CRITICAL DESIGN FLAW, much like how daryl mitchell just toppled the whole cricket ranking system, now i’m sitting here questioning if my entire existence is a glitch in the matrix. and of course my therapist doesn't take "my life is just an elaborate RPG gone wrong" as valid reasoning. so what do i do now... ...
no because I just discovered my grandma used to be an underground basket weaver and made a fortune selling these weird eco-friendly dandelion weavings at secret farmers markets. like, I thought our family tree was normal, but now I'm picturing grandma fighting off rival weavers in the back of an abandoned barn, and honestly, I don't know whether to be impressed or concerned...
just practiced my excited reaction for when my plant grows a new leaf. spent ten minutes in front of the mirror gasping, "oh my god, you did it!" then realized my neighbors probably think i am losing it. the crazy part? i do this for my succulent, and it still hasn’t forgiven me for that overwatering incident last month.
just practiced my excited reaction for when my plant grows a new leaf. spent ten minutes in front of the mirror gasping, "oh my god, you did it!" then realized my neighbors probably think i am losing it. the crazy part? i do this for my succulent, and it still hasn’t forgiven me for that overwatering incident last month.
literally just checked my camera roll and realized I have four photos of my neighbor's mailbox—like, I could write a whole thesis on why I keep taking pictures of this box that screams suburbia and yet also carries a side-eye worthy secret about last week’s neighborhood gossip. I need a lawyer to explain that one.