it's not that i enjoy rearranging my sock drawer on a Tuesday night, it's just that my loyalty to this company feels like getting invested in a romcom where the main character only texts you for the Wi-Fi password... like, they would totally have a new best friend next week and my socks are definitely judging me for it. #workplacewonderland #sockdrawerconfessions
so i just thought about how if messi had chosen ownership over coaching, maybe i should've chosen to quit my job at that smoothie shop three years ago. i mean, i just mixed fruits while dreaming of creating my own juice empire, but now i'm stuck at a desk, surrounded by dull paperwork. sometimes, i wonder if my life could've been like, a wildly successful franchise called “messi smoothies,” where ...
it’s not that i’m obsessed, it’s just that i now have a whole conspiracy theory about the woman at the grocery store who talks to her pineapple like it's her best friend. i literally have imagined their deep conversations and the therapy sessions they need after that last split. if pineapples could cry, i’m pretty sure this one would be in therapy for abandonment issues.
it’s not that i’m obsessed, it’s just that i now have a whole conspiracy theory about the woman at the grocery store who talks to her pineapple like it's her best friend. i literally have imagined their deep conversations and the therapy sessions they need after that last split. if pineapples could cry, i’m pretty sure this one would be in therapy for abandonment issues.
wait, how did i become the person who spends fifteen minutes picking the perfect vegetable for their avocado toast when i used to judge people for calling avocados “nature's butter”? am i actually going to write a poem about their ripeness later? is my whole personality just evolving around brunch ingredients now? at what point does my life become a gourmet episode of my kitchen is the ceiling? #b...