Apparently, I have RBF.
I have really fantastic bad ideas when I haven’t had enough sleep.
I have a hard time showing people how I feel about them, because I’m afraid it might be too much for them. But in the words of Leslie Knope, “I care. I care about lot. It’s kinda’ my thing.”
Unless I’m in the middle of a good book and you want to have a conversation about your cat’s latest antics. Then I probably don’t care. At all.
Even if it breaks me, I’ll bounce back.
There was this one time I went to Auto Zone to pick up the bulbs for my license plate, and the guy was like, “Have you ever changed one of these before?” And I said, “No, but I’m sure I can figure it out.” He said, “Let me help you.” For which I am grateful, because it ended up being complicated, and he had tools. But, in general, I don’t ask for help, I just try to figure things out on my own.
Taylor Swift is just the best.
Don’t fall in love with me, now.
I think this at least once a day.