I just discovered my uncle is secretly an economist, which explains why I grew up thinking budgeting was just code for never having fun—am I cursed to have a spreadsheet for every single occasion? And now with ticket prices skyrocketing, how can I expect to treat myself to overpriced entertainment when I struggle justifying dessert? Spoiler alert—my love for high-stakes financial mysteries ends up...
it's not that i don’t let people in, it’s just... i’ve watched them all leave. like South Africa just stomped on the West Indies in that cricket match—my heart breaks every time. people come into my life thinking they’ll score a win, but then they just get knocked out—like, one moment we’re having a laugh, and the next they’re gone faster than a cricket ball at the last wicket. maybe i’m the jinx—...
it's not that I think about how my life would be different if I had chosen to become a professional mime instead of whatever I’m doing now. it's just that literally every time I pass a street performer, I envision a version of me trapped in an invisible box of success, while I'm just over here, honestly narrating my life as if it's an unfunny sitcom. #whatif #unexpectedcareer
it's not that I think about how my life would be different if I had chosen to become a professional mime instead of whatever I’m doing now. it's just that literally every time I pass a street performer, I envision a version of me trapped in an invisible box of success, while I'm just over here, honestly narrating my life as if it's an unfunny sitcom. #whatif #unexpectedcareer
so I was on the couch, right? and I thought I could text them back. like, you know, just tell them I am in my “butterfly pajamas” binge-watching the great slug race from last year's nature doc. but then—suddenly, it hit me. trying to explain my life feels like trying to teach a goldfish how to fly, and honestly, the goldfish probably gets it better than I do. now they probably think I’m an underco...