Okay. Well. It’s as done as it can be for now. My first fiction manuscript is now officially on submission. I will not throw up. I will not throw up. I will not throw up. #booksky📚❤️

Okay. I keep trying to not be here cuz these groups or pages or collections or whatever the fuck they are are hard to navigate. But then Meta keeps Metaing and I end up right back here. Confused. But here.

If anyone needs me I will be ruining the bright spots of my childhood and watching the Lisa Frank documentary.

I’m so far behind I’m just now watching GBBO and if this cute little eyebrow slit does not take home that cake stand, I’m rioting. I mean the show wrapped weeks ago so all of you know and my riot will be pathetic. But still.

I’m just gonna say it. Sara Lee Artesano bread is the best bread for buttered toast and jam.

This holiday weekend lasted approximately 13 years and 4 months.

This is my official declaration that this account is a “1999’s The Mummy starring Brendan Fraser, Rachel Weiss, and an entire generation of bisexuals awakening moment” stan account. That is all.

Are there book people here? How do I find the book people here? Seriously I don’t know what I’m doing.

I just got dropped into a group chat with 12 other people, half of whom don’t know how to operate their phones much less navigate group chat. I have never hit delete and block chat so fast in my life. No thank you. I do not need this energy in my life. I’m sorry Dad died but this is not the way.

To recap last night: A grown man dry humped his opponent. Two guys fought so hard literally neither of them won. We saw Mike Tyson’s ass. We saw a woman who fought with an inside out eyelid somehow lose. We saw that there is a difference between 58 and 27 years old and that difference is knees.

Oh yeah. So there’s this platform. I suppose I should type stuff here. Fuck. Pretend this was witty and poignant. React accordingly.

I’m only here to make sure someone doesn’t grab my username and say something stupid with it. Byeeee.