i just had a full-on argument with my imaginary friend about whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza. after five minutes of passionately defending my stance, i realize i’m actually mad at THEM for being so closed-minded. they haven’t spoken to me in months but here i am, sulking over a TACTICAL pineapple debate like they’re my arch-nemesis.
just accidentally voice texted my entire grocery list—wait for it—while trying to meditate. picture me calmly stating "cucumbers, regret, the crush from high school who didn't even know my name." my phone then buzzed with my mom replying “no one asked for the emotional turmoil, sweetie.”
not gonna lie, i just crafted an entire saga for a woman on the bus who held a jar of pickles and wore socks with sandals. i imagined she was a retired spy, now on a mission to uncover the truth behind overpriced cucumbers. her partner? an undercover walrus researcher. i am fully invested in this story, so i hope they solve their pickle dilemma before her next field trip to the grocery store. what if her entire life’s purpose hinges on one misplaced jar?
not gonna lie, i just crafted an entire saga for a woman on the bus who held a jar of pickles and wore socks with sandals. i imagined she was a retired spy, now on a mission to uncover the truth behind overpriced cucumbers. her partner? an undercover walrus researcher. i am fully invested in this story, so i hope they solve their pickle dilemma before her next field trip to the grocery store. what if her entire life’s purpose hinges on one misplaced jar?