My friends are mental Wonderbras.

This is the online photo of another swimsuit I bought, and I texted a friend a photo of how it looked on me…

Me: “I’m sending this back. I don’t even know why I bought it. I’m gonna be standup paddleboarding and shit — I need something sportier. But damn, I look CUTE.”

Friend: “You look great and you should keep it and wear that shit every time you go near water.”

Here’s to friends who are more supportive than bathing suits. 🍸

Do I have time for a breast reduction before vacation?

I ordered swimsuits online so I could try them on and suffer privately, and perhaps call my therapist.

And I love knowing before I even open it that my breast is not fitting in there.

That’s adorable, though. You tried.

Discounted feelings-eating FTW!

When Grubhub sends a free delivery code, you get to eat your feelings.

Sorry, Health, I don’t make the rules.

A little freaky for 9 a.m., Netflix…

😳

Um…

I feel attacked.

“My Friend Dahmer.”

…Gentlemen, please form an orderly queue.

Improving our national discourse

We don’t talk nearly enough as a people about how sleep is the fucking BEST.

Organizing for Orgasm

Texting a friend about my plans to do some home organization this weekend…

The Wonderful Wizard of Poor Time Management

It seems silly to be single with no kids and only one job and say, “I don’t have the time or energy to deal with starting a relationship.” But I’ve just gotten home at 7 p.m. after an unexpectedly late evening at work, which isn’t unusual. I don’t feel like talking to anyone, and the only thing I want in me is tater tots and a glass of wine. And then I want to go to sleep like the fat, tranquilized bear that I am.

I’m having one of those weeks where I can’t understand how anyone has time to do anything, ever. You people are fucking wizards, I swear.

Professionally insecure

I had an insecure day at work, and I’m attempting to reason with the cunt-y part of my brain that’s telling me I’m complete shit at the ONE marketable skill I allegedly have.

But the thing is, the bitch in my brain doesn’t run on logic. So, “Hey, you still HAVE the job, and you just had a good annual review and got a raise!” And she’s like, “NOPE, doesn’t matter. You suck at everything and should just hole up in your hermit fortress and stare at the walls forever. Oh, and you’ll do that ALONE, as long as we’re planning.”

This part of my brain should be in Congress. Can’t tell that bitch SHIT.

But also, fuck you, Brain. I’m gonna give you sleep, then baked goods in the morning, and tomorrow will be better. You go ‘head and try talkin’ trash with a face fulla scone. Wench.

SWF seeks SM more interesting than crime

Time for another edition of Stump the Therapist!

Therapist: “So why are you avoiding dating?”

Me: “I don’t know… For me, online dating has never resulted in meeting men more interesting than my couch. Like, this past weekend, would I have rather been on a date than at home watching that Michael Jackson documentary? No. So apparently I just need to find a man who’s more appealing than a 4-hour movie about child molestation? And it’s a much higher bar than I assumed it would be.”

Therapist: [laughs] “…Wow, I actually have no idea how to respond to that.”

WIN.