being on the edge of ‘functional’ is such a fucking liminal place of existing
like, can I go to work every day and earn a paycheck? yeh. Can I sustain a small circle of friends and go on a few dates every few months? pretty much. can I feed myself and get a passable amount of sleep? most the time
is my apartment absolutely littered with laundry and trash? yes as well. Have a done dishes in the last week? nope. have I been 10-30 minutes late to almost every engagement in the last year? yep. have I forgotten to shower for 4-5 days, like every other week? yeehaw
I know people look at me and are like, ‘God, she has her shit together, God I wish I could do that,’ but I’m sitting here feeling like an anxiety disaster half-person
like, we just settle for ‘passable,’ ‘almost functional,’ ‘the bare minimum of okay’ and then it’s a constant treadmill to always be a tiny bit above the curb
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youre a 10 and i look like im 10
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hey girl u come here often? 😏 yeah? 😏 then have u seen my cat it was last seen in this area on thursday at approximately 7pm and,
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Phil doodle during lunch :)
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If you don’t like rice then idk man get well soon I guess
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does anyone know if we have to be tomorrow
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can’t wait for spotify wrapped to tell me that i’ve listened to the same three songs all year but in a fun powerpoint graphics kind of way
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from Yasica, Puerto Plata by JP Infante
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if you have cool weird parents you don’t get credit for being cool and weird. if ur mom raises lizards and teaches interpretive dance and named you Genesis Wizard you had an unfair advantage and, after adjusting for inflation, you’re a normie
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