I just want to read all of these books.
ALL OF THEM.
Hello, person in a position of much power. Help.
On the regular.
I’m starting to think that Amazon thinks I’m a serial killer.
The deluge just never flipping ends.
OK. I literally just had a dream that this was going to happen. And now it’s happening. And that’s just a little too weird.
I’m just reporting all Instagram cat ads as sexually inappropriate at this point. They simply refuse to stop advertising cat crap to me.
I feel like I have no idea what to do now.
I don’t even eat jam. Why would I have subscribed to a mailing list about jam??
I don’t even know how to respond to that.
I asked for no hot sauce. I can’t even get the person taking my lunch order to respect me enough to not put the hot sauce on my food when I ask for no hot sauce.
I’m not all that complicated, really.
This is actually a nice story.
I have read the second half of this paragraph three times and retained absolutely nothing.
Oh, hey thanks for passing me over for yet another teaching gig. Really, it’s fine.
No one has time for my issues, so. Yeah.
But then a beautiful person brings you a mocha frappuccino and some Rice Kristpies treats and your faith in humanity edges up a notch or two. Or eleven.
Why do I even do this?
I kind of love these book darts.
It’s not like I enjoy being a basket case.
Man. All those years of moving our cars every two hours to avoid a ticket. Goddamn parking fascists. I bet they won’t be giving any refunds.
Oh right. Well a 4.0 in grad school is better than a 4.0 in undergrad. Although I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who cares what my GPA is anyway.
It took me a minute to realize that was Neil Gaiman narrating. So great.
I’ve hit capslock about 47 million times today.
My life doesn’t suck. I’m just not happy with what I do to pay the bills.
Think I might need a break from my morning hot tea. Sadness.
OK, I’m absolutely certain now that it’s the Apocalypse and no one told me.
Well. New York. Huh.
Hello, imposter syndrome.
Once again, utterly forgot it was Wednesday.
I like saying ickle.
That was not nearly enough lunch. I’m not Ghandi.
I don’t like bandwagons. They’re loud and annoying.
I wonder how long it would take to glue all those eyes to your face.
OH MY GOD IT’S ME
I’m not crazy.
I was trying to read this article about Bari Weiss, but it’s too goddamn long.
Man. Did you even know that? Because I did not know that.
Leave a Reply