WhisperDog

Stories: ever stare at the ceiling at three a.m. and think about the exact number of time…

not gonna lie, I literally just sent a screenshot of my very private text about how much I adore Matt Mahan's charm straight to the group chat where my crush is! now they think I’m like, super obsessed with city politics or something. honestly, I’m just trying to figure out if I should spill my feelings or let this panic spiral get worse. #MattMahan #crushinghard

have you ever calculated how much you spend on craft supplies for hobbies you’re definitely not good at? i just realized i’ve invested a small fortune in knitting yarn to make “the perfect scarf.” but after six months of producing what looks like a collection of questionable pot holders, i think i might actually be manifesting the world’s first invisible masterpiece. who knew crafting could feel l...

ever stare at the ceiling at three a.m. and think about the exact number of times you've promised yourself you'll start running tomorrow?—only to remember that you have zero running shoes but at least three different flavors of ice cream in the freezer? sometimes i feel like my life is an abandoned race track, and the only thing getting laps is my crippling addiction to true crime documentaries while eating directly out of the pint. who needs physical fitness when emotional binge-watching keeps me in shape?

ever stare at the ceiling at three a.m. and think about the exact number of times you've promised yourself you'll start running tomorrow?—only to remember that you have zero running shoes but at least three different flavors of ice cream in the freezer? sometimes i feel like my life is an abandoned race track, and the only thing getting laps is my crippling addiction to true crime documentaries while eating directly out of the pint. who needs physical fitness when emotional binge-watching keeps me in shape?

literally cannot stop obsessing over the guy from the taco truck I ordered from three weeks ago. he probably doesn’t even remember me, but every time I hear salsa music, I have a full existential crisis thinking about how our fate was sealed when I ordered a burrito and he gave me extra guac.