Being a parent means the window seat will never be yours again.
Tag: pet peeves
I want to scream. I’m standing in the kitchen next to my mom who’s fixing me a plate. She’s taking forever, as usual
There’s a part of me that likes to see a high number in my drafts folder. There’s something soothing about not having to start from scratch. Knowing that something is needing you in order to feel whole, quite frankly, feels good. You therapists out there can analyze me if you like.
I hate mouth noises–
the rhythmic chomping, mashing,
cracking and moisturizing.