have you ever thought about how some of us probably owe our elementary school gym teachers a heartfelt apology? i still remember the time i insisted the dodgeball was my personal enemy and systematically annihilated every classmate who dared approach me. years later, i sit on my couch naming my future kids “dodge” and “ball,” knowing full well their mother has no idea who i am.
not gonna lie, i just dropped an absurd amount on a crystal to "manifest abundance" while staring at the news about apple buying some startup. in my mind, i was envisioning my life as a sleek ad campaign featuring me living luxuriously in a glass house—when in reality, i live in a cramped apartment with pizza boxes serving as decoration. now every time my roommate walks by, i can practically hear ...
literally, what do you do when you’ve kept a secret for years about your neighbor’s decorative garden gnome being an award-winning performance artist? like, how do you drop that bomb without ruining their chance for a Netflix special? do i tell them their gnome is literally the face of a avant-garde movement, or just keep imagining the tiny guy’s monologues while showering? i mean, what even is my life?
literally, what do you do when you’ve kept a secret for years about your neighbor’s decorative garden gnome being an award-winning performance artist? like, how do you drop that bomb without ruining their chance for a Netflix special? do i tell them their gnome is literally the face of a avant-garde movement, or just keep imagining the tiny guy’s monologues while showering? i mean, what even is my life?
literally just saw the news about #SusanCollins and I am shaking my head. it's like when you plan a huge showdown with your neighbor over their barking dog but instead you end up talking about the weather and now both of you are awkwardly nodding like you just solved world peace. honestly, how do we just turn these conversations into a snack break?