*snifts wine* do i detect a hint of grapes?
I will destroy ever window on my office floor.
I got conned into going to lunch with a coworker. I have no idea whether she likes or hates me, whether she loves me or plans my murder before she goes to bed, I have no idea if she has feelings, or is human, or is a robot, but I know she has two sons (one of whom is entering high school and has a spare and shouldn’t have a spare because he should have a full work load because that’s how many credits you should have in grade ten) and she’s been painting the doors in her house for the last two months. I know she has a dog. I know her husband just got a new job opportunity. I don’t know when she moves the corners at the ends of her mouth whether she is forming a smile or if that’s some instinctual reaction she never quite got over. I know she takes the bus, then the train.
I have no idea what “corporate” means, I have no idea what a “business case” is, I have no idea what “policy development” encompasses.
I accidentally told her something about myself because I don’t know anything about me that isn’t personal. She asked me something about what I was doing and I said I’m good at information management (I’m not). She asked me if that’s what I like and I said, hesitantly, that if I did what I loved I would be writing (nevermind I don’t write anymore). I explained I would be writing fictio—“well, not really fiction, creative non-fiction”. … “Oh, it’s like, I guess the closest thing is journalism, but that doesn’t interest me. I like real stories, told from a personal perspective, or a creative twist, not necessarily real…” Nevermind.
That admission felt more vulgar than anything I’ve ever said. Goddamn fuck.
the sound of teenage girls laughing near you when you’re by yourself is literally the most terrifying thing a person can experience
I’m the idiot that hopes someone will write a missed connection entry about me on Craigslist. What’s worse, I hope they romantically see me the way I want strangers to see me.