it’s not that i can’t afford nice things, it’s just that i keep getting offers to become a brand ambassador for imaginary products. my life looks glamorous on the surface, all travel and fine dining in filtered photos, but nobody sees the stash of expired coupons i hide under my bed as a backup plan. i may have learned to toast avocado on toast, but what they don’t realize is that my “trendy break...
i was finally getting into a groove at work, juggling three side hustles just to make ends meet. then my parents showed up unannounced and saw the pile of laundry that is actually my closet. i laughed it off, but inside, i was cringing. they have NO idea i keep dodging the bill collectors by pretending i just lost track of time. the looks on their faces said it all – they thought i was thriving wh...
wait, so I found out my family is literally descended from a line of like, famous pie makers, which explains why I was convinced for years that I was destined to become an incredible pastry chef, but the only thing I’ve ever baked is a sad, lumpy bread that literally tasted like disappointment. like, I was ready to claim my heritage on reality TV or something until I remembered my uncle literally mistook a can of whipped cream for shaving cream and smeared it all over his face, thinking it was some new beauty trend, so now I’m just over here trying to avoid any social gatherings that involve baking while my relatives host pie competitions like it’s the Olympics.
wait, so I found out my family is literally descended from a line of like, famous pie makers, which explains why I was convinced for years that I was destined to become an incredible pastry chef, but the only thing I’ve ever baked is a sad, lumpy bread that literally tasted like disappointment. like, I was ready to claim my heritage on reality TV or something until I remembered my uncle literally mistook a can of whipped cream for shaving cream and smeared it all over his face, thinking it was some new beauty trend, so now I’m just over here trying to avoid any social gatherings that involve baking while my relatives host pie competitions like it’s the Olympics.
it’s not that i think my collection of vinyl records is useless... it’s just that staring at them makes me question why i cling to these dusty things instead of embracing something REAL, like having friends who enjoy them with me—yet here i am, arguing with myself about which record to play for an audience that only exists in my head, knowing i’d rather have a connection than this GUILT-TRIP to my...