Sunday Confessions: 3-8-26

On this foggy Monday morning, I sit at my desk with bags under my eyes while wearing an outfit that I wish I could immediately change out of. Am I considering heading home around 2 o’clock today to remedy these things? Maybe.

Here are all of this week’s confessions.

I’m only doing the early hot yoga class to stand behind the guy who looks like JFK Jr.

I think about my therapist every night while I fall asleep. Her voice is the only thing that keeps the scaries away.

My Notes app is basically a museum of unsent texts. It’s a chaotic little art gallery in there.

I miss how my butthole looked before I gave birth.

I just drooled while watching a Pizza Hut commercial.

Thinking of switching estheticians because she reminds me too much of Pam Bondi.

The mortgage on my parent’s large lake house is the same as my rent for a tiny apartment. It makes me viscerally angry.

I hate March Madness because of my company’s forced fun around it.

I am absolutely convinced I’m a regular person a celebrity would fall in love with.

I googled “am I a narcissist?” last night. I think I might be.

I don’t try on new swimsuits with my underwear on. If I don’t like the swimsuit, I return it with no guilt. Hygiene stickers are there for this purpose.

Either I’m super delulu or I’m pretty sure my guy best friend and I are in love with each other but neither of us are gonna do anything about it. Even I’m annoyed at us.

If women ran things, daylights savings time would disappear.

Returning to work tomorrow after a week of PTO and all I think about is my next PTO.

Torn between ‘hot mom summer’ and ‘I just need one more little treat’, but for the last two months.

My new dentist is shockingly hot. However, my visit coinciding with my lapsed mustache wax of a month killed any hopeful delusions I may have had.

I hate that I was such a prude in my 20s because of my parents. I could’ve hooked up with anyone I liked back then.

I went to the movies three times this week to see Wuthering Heights.

Whenever I have family or friends visit, I hide all my expensive skin care and bring out my shitty stuff.

I’m so anxious I started biting my toenails.

I think my husband’s hair growth medication is killing his libido.

I drunk texted ChatGPT last night to avoid embarrassing myself with actual people I know.

I really need to get laid but don’t want to add to my body count.

I spent over a thousand dollars this week on tennis, pilates, laser hair removal and spinning classes… my girl math tells me it’s okay because I am investing in “my wellness era.”

I’m waiting to break up with my long-term boyfriend until I pay off my credit card debt.

Instantly turned off and judging if you ask me to take my shoes off at a house, ruins the fit. Grow up, people.

Every 6 months I look forward to squeezing the gross junk out of my old belly button piercing. So disgusting. So satisfying.

I really am looking for a man in finance, 6’5, blue eyes.

I think my music taste is superior to most people’s, and you can’t convince me otherwise.

I think my boyfriend has embarrassing taste in music.

He asked me to spit in his mouth. I think I’m in love.

I always get compliments on my long hair, but if people got close enough they would see it is absolutely ridden with split ends.

I love the smell of my bellybutton after I haven’t showered in a few days.

i’m writing this confession instead of breaking no contact with my ex.

Went to Chicago with my guy friend of 10 plus years. I’m back home now and I think I’m in love with him.

I usually trim my toenails twice a year or so, but I’ve made keeping them short a focus this year.

I bricked my fit to the Masters last year and I’m still thinking about almost a year later.

My friends keep posting ugly pictures of me.

I can’t believe I survived the pandemic just to now go thru WW3.

I still use my ex boss’s ex wife’s parents’ cable log in. They’ve been divorced for 6 years. I haven’t worked for him for 8 years.

One of my AirPods dropped in the airplane toilet, and I contemplated grabbing it but ultimately did not. Still questioning my thought process for that moment.

I put ketchup on my mashed potatoes. I shouldn’t be embarrassed cause they’re basically French fries, but I am embarrassed. I try to hide it at work.

Bringing cough drops to the office because I’m tired of hearing Cheryl clear her throat every 30 seconds. See a doctor.

If I walk into a bathroom and the only option is one of those stupid, obnoxiously loud hand dryers, I will not be fully washing my hands.

I faked bereavement and enjoyed the last 9 days off. I slept, reorganized my home, and caught up with old friends. 10/10 recommend.

Currently reading two smutty books: one about Hades and a florist, and another about a woman and a Sasquatch. Both are spectacular. I’m a virgin.