sending a deeply personal text meant for my pen pal to the entire group chat felt like showing up to a funeral in a clown costume. like, how am i supposed to live with the fact that i shared my dream of becoming an amateur cheese sculptor with the squad? it’s literally in their minds now, marinating in awkwardness, and... also why do i think the world needs more cheese sculptures anyway?
i was waiting for the right moment to wear my neon pink parachute pants to that casual brunch for WEEKS—finally showed up wearing them and realized it was actually a funeral. my friends are NEVER going to let me live this down, but at least my legs were the only thing alive in that room.
not gonna lie, just watched my neighbor win a year-long sword swallowing competition at the local fair and now I feel like my entire identity as someone who collects bottle caps is literally being threatened—like, can you even put that on a resume? meanwhile, here I am just trying to make a case for my prized ketchup bottle cap from two thousand and three like it's the holy grail of collectibles.
not gonna lie, just watched my neighbor win a year-long sword swallowing competition at the local fair and now I feel like my entire identity as someone who collects bottle caps is literally being threatened—like, can you even put that on a resume? meanwhile, here I am just trying to make a case for my prized ketchup bottle cap from two thousand and three like it's the holy grail of collectibles.
it’s funny how people say you should always be prepared for anything. so here i am, literally having a funeral outfit ready in my closet just in case life decides to take a turn. then one day, i open my phone and see that someone screenshot my private story about my deep dive into fruit flies being the ultimate survivalists. guess who is now the most socially equipped person for both death and exi...