🫖 I’m hoping to get back to my normal format and cadence soon, but for now here’s this! 🫖
I’m a little sick but not sick enough for my personality to let me rest.
I’ve gained some weight. I feel guilty for being so unhappy about this.
Someone asked if my parents subscribe to my newsletter, and if I self-censor. My answer was OF COURSE THEY DO and OF COURSE I DO! A lot of the people here make me worry about what I should or shouldn’t say, but I think that says more about me than them.
I threw away all my [REDACTED].
One of my ploys has been to trick men into subscribing to my substack. Otherwise, I would have no one but the army of rayne fisher-quann chickadees (love u, tho!). I went on a date with someone whose friend writes a newsletter that’s basically a graphic sex diary. It was too much for him to handle. Men are always afraid that you are going to bake period blood into their pies and put them on blast in your graphic sex diaries.
My hot water has been shut off for two days so I couldn’t take a shower even if I wanted to.
I saw a guy who looked like THIS do cocaine on the home sweet home dance floor, which caused me to seriously consider where and when I am.
An instagram astrologer told me that someone put a curse on me when I was a child which is the reason I am not more rich and famous by now. This must be why my posts only get 20-30 likes. There was a time when I enjoyed having an unlikable social media presence, but now it just makes me uneasy.
I keep having premonitions that are probably just logical foresight.
I was crossing Broadway and caught a gust of wind that led me to believe I must be near an ice cream shop baking fresh waffle cones. So warm, so sweet. I whipped my head around and was surprised to find a woman standing right next to me. Hello, gorgeous culprit! Can you imagine the power?
I’ve been rooting for Nick and Jess on this show.
Not to be so #adulting, but I could really use a trophy for walking 0.7 miles to deposit my first paycheck and going to the grocery store yesterday.
At checkout, the clerk asked me how I was. I told him I was tired. He asked how early I started and I was embarrassed to admit that my new job starts at 10:00, and I even overslept that morning. I woke up in a sweat at 9:30, unsure if I forgot to set an alarm or if a dozey version of myself outsmarted the snooze button. Before TJ’s, the clerk worked the night shift at the 7-Eleven on 116th. That must have been pretty unspeakable but he seems to have made it out unscathed, as he was genuinely enthusiastic about the Pumpkin Brioche Twists and the Dia de los Muertos succulents.
Song of the week
“I’m So Tired,” Fugazi
Spotify has been pushing this one on me for years, which is to say that the algo thinks I’m depressed? Like every time I let things shuffle beyond my normal queue, Spotify is like: are you…. so tired?
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Maybe self censorship is intuition......
i, too, have been ashamed of answering "10 am" to the "what time did you start" question