jainakay
There are more answers these days than questions, at least that's how it seems. And you know something, I'm not sure that's a good thing. I mean, sure, there are benefits to being able to google it and come up with the answer in seconds flat. But when was the last time you actually had to sit down and thing about something? When was the last time you couldn't just give up after five minutes... three minutes... a minute... and just go find the answer somewhere else?
The elastic in my shorts is wearing out.
I was horrified when I got home and realized that my jeans were so tight that I had to rush immediately into shorts with an elastic waistband to avoid spending my entire evening in agony. How in the world was I supposed to explain that to my mother, the ever weight conscious? Oh no, this was not good.
They make jeans with an elastic waistband, but I just can't bring myself to buy them.
I was driving my mother entirely mad, and I didn't know how to stop it. She would have told me to go out and get a real job, one that would keep me above the poverty level and not keep me running back to her every time something happened that toppled my precariously-balanced life, but I couldn't do that, I couldn't betray myself that way. So I drove her right off a cliff - the cliffs of insanity.
Don't pour boiling water into a cold glass teapot. I found that out the hard way, and as it turns out explosive glass shards shot all around your kitchen doesn't make for the greatest Saturday afternoon.