wait. remember that one guy who always bragged about his epic knowledge of obscure ancient civilizations? so, i couldn’t help but chuckle when he failed spectacularly at identifying a single emoji in our group chat. he claimed it was “too mainstream.” it felt like justice watching him cringe while we all mocked his scholarly reign coming crashing down like a bad PowerPoint presentation. if only he...
last night, i spent an hour writing a heartfelt thank you speech for an award i never actually won. i even practiced in front of my bathroom mirror, using my shampoo bottle as a microphone. then, this morning, i found out the award is for people who know how to successfully assemble furniture without a meltdown. apparently, i dont qualify, but the speech was really moving until it ended with me aw...
So there I was, just literally organizing my vinyl records by color, as one does, when I accidentally tripped over the world's tiniest soundproofing panel, right? Honestly, I think my neighbor's been having underground drum sessions. How do I know? Because I found a whole playlist labeled “Drum Sins.” What does that even mean? And when I turned it up out of sheer curiosity, I heard them like, creating literal rhythm to a cat’s meow. I mean, who does that? Is that even a hobby or a cry for help? Now I can’t unsee their living room filled with thousands of sound-absorbing egg crates, like some bizarre avant-garde gallery. Who knew drumming out your anxiety could involve literal cat calls?
So there I was, just literally organizing my vinyl records by color, as one does, when I accidentally tripped over the world's tiniest soundproofing panel, right? Honestly, I think my neighbor's been having underground drum sessions. How do I know? Because I found a whole playlist labeled “Drum Sins.” What does that even mean? And when I turned it up out of sheer curiosity, I heard them like, creating literal rhythm to a cat’s meow. I mean, who does that? Is that even a hobby or a cry for help? Now I can’t unsee their living room filled with thousands of sound-absorbing egg crates, like some bizarre avant-garde gallery. Who knew drumming out your anxiety could involve literal cat calls?
not gonna lie, I stopped checking in on my friend because every time we chatted, they never asked how I was doing. I mean, do I have to remind them that I also exist? I thought, maybe I should send them a voice note but, like, how weird is that? what am I supposed to say, “hey, just wanted to make sure I’m still part of your life, while you’re obsessing over who will win at the Grammys in twenty t...