Just the Line — Words Only

I like my space. You're in it.

We just quietly stopped doing May Day baskets. No vote. No announcement. We just stopped.

I have the energy. I do not have the will. These are different.

Subject: Manchild. Status: Underperforming. Recommendation: Continue. He cannot be helped.

Lovely. (Translation: anywhere from 'I love you' to 'I will never speak to you again.')

I have special needs. I need you to not be an idiot.

My landlord painted the bedroom with a roller. Over the trim. Over the outlet. Over the spider.

Tactile linears with tape mod. PBT cherry profile. Custom artisan. Typing the same emails everyone else types.

I'm not asking you to hire me. I'm asking you to reject me before bedtime.

I have aspirations. The shoes for them are still in the box.

Job description, abridged: must be able to predict the future, perform miracles, and tolerate the founders.

I came, I saw, I left early.

I called the school district IT desk. They told me to email the school district IT desk.

Is this an introvert thing or a mental health thing. (Both. The answer is always both.)

Bought a book for the aesthetic. The aesthetic is unread.

Eight hundred applications. Three interviews. One unpaid internship. They are calling it competitive.

I am the photo album. Nine thousand pictures. None of them shared.

A Performance Improvement Plan is a calendar. Not a plan. The calendar is for them.

I am every woman — pissed off.

I was the emergency contact. The emergency was emotional. They got me anyway.

I am bad at pretending. I am pretending I am not.

I have strong opinions about bins. This is the bin night era of my life.

Our wi-fi connects better than we do.