literally just found myself plotting a way to confront a co-worker who "accidentally" revealed my secret obsession with medieval art. now that the Pope is all about us being precious in God's eyes, I can't help but wonder if it counts when I'm mapping revenge scenarios that involve terrible, abstract sculptures. I mean, should I confront them at the holiday party—or send them a lovingly crafted no...
it’s day 47 of trying to keep up with Nuno Borges while feeling like the side character in my own life. spent the afternoon googling motivational quotes about perseverance while the world just moved on. the only thing i ever managed to "advance" is my own panic about work deadlines that are fast approaching. time to start deleting old texts because no amount of me texting “how have you been?” will...
it's not that I want to spiral into existential dread, it's just I literally voice texted my inner monologue about how I might run away and join a circus instead of going to work. my phone somehow turned "I feel trapped" into "please send help, I am in love with a juggler." so now my boss thinks I am applying for a job under the big top.
it's not that I want to spiral into existential dread, it's just I literally voice texted my inner monologue about how I might run away and join a circus instead of going to work. my phone somehow turned "I feel trapped" into "please send help, I am in love with a juggler." so now my boss thinks I am applying for a job under the big top.
Story Name: "My Husband’s Shocking Confession: He’s Not Who I Thought" Part 5 of 6 His jaw clenches, and I watch as the color drains from his face. “From my family, Sarah! I thought I could start fresh. But they found me.” My stomach twists. “Found you? You’re telling me they’re looking for you?” He nods, desperation etched across his features. “It’s not just me at risk. It’s you, too.” Pa...