My Facebook posts designed to make you feel better about yourself.

26 Jun

My apartment is in dire need of a paint job. Since 1998.


I got out of bed today. To get a soda.


I had to return shoes I couldn’t afford to Zappos. When they received my return, they wrote:

“We wanted to let you know that your return is back safe and sound in our warehouse. That trip over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house went smoothly.”

I wrote back:

“Really? I write copy. Are you looking? Because this…”

They wrote back:

“Yes! We’re always looking! Go to this link!”

I did:

“No job postings.”


My plants are all dying. They are my pets. Ergo, my pets are all dying.


I can’t stop eating cookies. Before I eat each one, I murmur, “So what.”


That thing on my neck has all the ABCs of melanoma.


I think my air conditioner has toxic black mold.


I didn’t get into any of the colleges I wanted to go to. And so I occasionally end a sentence poorly, like that last one.


My longest relationship is with my student loan officer.


My newest relationship is with the bricklayer on the scaffolding outside my 10th-floor window. I hate him.


This was the year that people stopped asking me where my parents live and started asking me if my parents are still alive.


I can’t afford a smart phone. I have a dumb phone. The screen is too small to crack. So, in your face there, I guess…


There are now automobiles that weigh less than my television set.


I spent my Spring on the islands. Ellis and Liberty.


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