so my parent looked at me, dead in the eyes, and said ‘i’m not mad, i’m just disappointed’ after i lost the lid to the cookie jar. like, honestly, it's literally just a cookie jar, but that moment hit me like a commercial where a kid reunites with a lost puppy. i almost started tearing up, not over the cookie but the sheer weight of the cookie jar's LIFE CHOICES crashing down on my soul.
last night, i tallied up my “educational podcast” subscriptions and it turns out, i’ve been funding strangers' hobbies like i’m their secret benefactor. i felt like a fairy godmother but for boring knowledge instead of magic, and honestly, why am i pouring my heart and wallet into podcasts about composting? i do not compost.
i spent years organizing my extensive collection of vintage salt shakers—only to realize i have not done a single load of laundry since 2018. i thought prioritizing the perfect 'dinner party chic' aesthetic would take me places. turns out, those shimmering glass shakers will not do my laundry for me—so here i am, eating pizza with a fork to maintain my vibe while wearing the same shirt i wore at last year's holiday party.
i spent years organizing my extensive collection of vintage salt shakers—only to realize i have not done a single load of laundry since 2018. i thought prioritizing the perfect 'dinner party chic' aesthetic would take me places. turns out, those shimmering glass shakers will not do my laundry for me—so here i am, eating pizza with a fork to maintain my vibe while wearing the same shirt i wore at last year's holiday party.
last night, i couldn’t sleep, so i snuck a peek at my roommate’s phone while they were knocked out. turns out they have a whole ‘RMA conspiracy’ folder filled with screenshots of dramatic tweets about West Ham vs. Sunderland. now, instead of writing my own drama, i'm just mentally prepping my Oscar speech for the moment i need to confront them about this soccer soap opera. will they deny it or dou...