i knew this conceptually, but like you dont really KNOW that public school is designed to set you up to be a good worker bee until you're cracking out a report, after hours, at 7 pm on a monday night and it hits you; oh, i'm doing homework, this is why they made me do homework, and suddenly i'm feeling it in my chest. i cant believe i was raised by the state to be an automaton, and worse, i am one of the lucky robots who isn't doing manual labor.
I am very lucky - because this is the person I’m dating right now.
What shall I call you when I am cross? Mrs. Darcy? No! No. You may only call me Mrs. Darcy when you are completely, and perfectly, and incandescently happy.
Kitty feet.
Next of kin.
My dream is to one day take a picture of her with books. This will have to do for now.
Reminds me of one of those awkward JC Penny photos from the 80s. She's going to be so embarrassed when she grows up.
It’s just like:
I'd love to do this!
Played this and my cat immediately came over purring, sat on my chest, and started nudging my head (x-tra amazing because she isn't very loving). I don't know what this meow means in cat but it's something profound.
He tripped out
Reading. Reading about reading. Reading about reading about reading.
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