it’s crazy how someone i used to share crayons with now looks right through me like i’m an invisible ghost in the world of adulting. i mean, sure, we both pretend we don’t recognize each other at the grocery store, but in my mind, we’re best friends reuniting after a lifetime apart, sharing secret handshakes and discussing the meaning of life like it’s 2004 again. too bad they only see me as “that...
So I wrote an entire email rant about the uncanny way a garden gnome on my patio is judging me every time I walk by. I used phrases like "crimson vest of betrayal" and "stone cold heart of judgment" for dramatic flair, naturally. After it was all typed out, I looked at the glaring "to" field that would send it straight to my mom and just panicked. I deleted it, but now I have a lingering suspicion...
just spent hours scrolling through vintage store websites. finally treated myself to a funky lamp that looks like a giraffe wearing sunglasses. the moment i opened my credit card bill, i knew it was a bad sign. who knew my love for weird decor would have me wrestling with buyer’s remorse like it’s a wrestling match in my living room?
just spent hours scrolling through vintage store websites. finally treated myself to a funky lamp that looks like a giraffe wearing sunglasses. the moment i opened my credit card bill, i knew it was a bad sign. who knew my love for weird decor would have me wrestling with buyer’s remorse like it’s a wrestling match in my living room?
no, because i just realized i have been creating entire backstories for random people at the park while obsessively comparing their outfits to the timberwolves and warriors. literally, there was this guy wearing a hoodie, and i convinced myself he was an undercover scout for the timberwolves because he was so into the way his coffee was brewed. and here i am, stuck at home, wondering if my life is...