I confess: Have you ever thought about your life and how pointless it is and nothing you do ever really matters in an empty, existential way not a sad, depressed way? It's been one of those weeks.
I confess: I'm afraid that once I stop taking the pill, my face is going to freak out and be zit central. (Deep, meet shallow)
I confess: I'm no noob to online shopping but I thought I ordered Halloween stuff like a week ago, but turns out nope, I didn't. So I had to order again, but not really again, since I didn't do it properly the first time.
I confess: My bedside manner isn't great. My husband had a dream that I died and needed hugs, which I gave, but then said "Don't have sex with my dead body, they can tell those things" and he looked at me and said that he felt weird and sad now and to stop talking. And somehow the conversation evolved into sex robots and the ethical moral dilemma of making child versions. Now he really wanted me to shut up. MY BRAIN IS A WEIRD PLACE, I'M SORRY. YOU WOKE ME UP WITH DEAD WIFE DREAMS, SO THIS IS KIND OF YOUR FAULT.
I confess: I stopped to listen to my OTHER neighbors across the street argue when I was doing yard work (about 8 am on a Saturday). Mostly was caught "YOU LYING FUCKING BITCH"...One: Don't call each other names, that isn't fighting fair, you can't take those words back. Two: You have kids in the house, you are teaching them this is how people argue.
I confess: Oh, and today is my birthday.