Monday. Cold morning. Leggings and long sleeves.

Still no keys. I can’t believe I lost my keys.

Squeaky clean gym.

Not pushing hard enough.

Did he really think he was about to convince me to let him drive his friend home real quick? Oh. No.

She keeps saying things that are the things that were just said, which makes me laugh because of course she is. This is how the universe works: sending you sign after sign as a test to see if you will ignore or abide.

Waiting. Always waiting.

She asks me if my job is why my Instagram is so aesthetic. I giggle a little. I sometimes forget that’s public.

Did I listen? I did.

I wish they thought as highly of themselves as I think of them.