Emotional Pixie

Today is officially day three since I told my husband that I got really, really drunk and kissed another man.

The first day, he didn’t speak to me at all, which I completely understood. Yesterday, he texted me and told me to take off my wedding rings because I don’t deserve to wear them. He also said we’ll talk on Friday.

For now, I’ve moved into the spare bedroom. Honestly… it’s kind of nice. My clothes, makeup, and dresser were already in there because our closet was never big enough for both of us anyway. I even bought a mattress topper because the bed is hard as a rock. Ironically, the bed he’s sleeping on is technically mine, but right now I really don’t care.

Last night I had a smoke session with a friend. She told me something that’s been rattling around in my head ever since. She said she’s watched me be unhappy for years, and maybe this isn’t just about one drunken kiss. Maybe my mind, or my body, finally reached a point where it couldn’t ignore what I’ve been feeling anymore.

The hard part is… I’ve wanted him to be the right person for so long.

Have you ever had a puzzle piece that looks like it should fit? The colors match. The shape almost lines up. You keep turning it because you’re convinced this has to be where it goes. But no matter how badly you want it to fit, it just… doesn’t.

That’s what this feels like.

We’ll find out what happens on Friday. If he decides he still wants to try, I think couples counseling is something I need regardless. I’ve already been to counseling for myself. Over the last year and a half or two years, I’ve learned a lot about what I actually need in a partner. Those realizations came after we were already married.

Could he become those things? Maybe. But I’ve spent a long time waiting, hoping, and believing that eventually we’d get there. That’s not entirely his fault. I didn’t know these things about myself before either.

Right now, I’m okay.

I’m breathing.

The emotions come in waves. Sometimes I feel this strange sense of freedom, and then, almost immediately afterward, I panic because I’m going to miss him so much. Regardless of what happens between us, he’s been my best friend for the last five and a half years. That kind of history doesn’t disappear overnight.

So… here we are.

I never thought I’d be the person writing these words.

I cheated on my husband.

Even typing that makes me sick.

Before anyone says it, I know. I know I was wrong. I’m not looking for people to tell me it was okay or to blame alcohol or my marriage. I made the decision, and now I have to live with the consequences.

But I also feel like if I’m going to tell this story, I need to tell the whole story.

My husband and I have been together for about five and a half years. We’ve been married since February 2025. Like every marriage, we’ve had rough patches, but the last several months have been especially difficult.

Back in December, we almost separated. He had been drinking heavily, hiding it from me, and breaking promises. We had long conversations, and he promised things would change. I chose to stay because I love him. I believed him.

Lately, though, I’ve started finding hidden drinks again.

That wasn’t the only issue. I’ve felt emotionally alone for a long time. Whenever I tried to bring up my feelings, the conversation often became, “I’m just a bad husband. I can’t do anything right.” Instead of feeling heard, I would shut down. I know I didn’t always communicate my feelings in the healthiest way either, but somewhere along the way we stopped really hearing each other.

He still buys me flowers. He’s not a monster. He’s a good man in a lot of ways, and I know he loves me. That’s part of what makes this hurt so much.

I just haven’t felt emotionally connected for a long time.

Last Saturday, I went out drinking and met two guys. I gave them both my Snapchat. One of them wanted me to go home with him, and I almost did.

I didn’t.

I felt guilty enough that a week later I sat my husband down and told him what had happened. I cried. I told him I hated that I was looking for comfort outside of our marriage. I told him I felt lost.

We actually ended that conversation on a good note.

But here’s the thing.

We’ve ended a lot of conversations on good notes.

We’ve had promises.

We’ve had apologies.

We’ve had hope.

What we’ve struggled with is follow-through.

Two days later, I went to Pride with friends and got way too drunk. One of the guys from the previous weekend messaged me and invited me to a free concert. I don’t even know why I went. I genuinely wish I had an answer.

What I do remember is suddenly realizing I was making out with him.

That moment snapped me back into reality.

I immediately stopped, apologized, left, and Ubered home.

But the damage was already done.

This morning, I told my husband the truth.

He’s furious.

He barely wants to speak to me.

And honestly…

I understand why.

I betrayed someone who trusted me.

I can explain the loneliness. I can explain the disconnection. I can explain the broken promises and the drinking and everything that led up to this.

But none of those things excuse what I did.

Right now I’m sitting with a lot of shame.

I’m terrified my marriage is over.

Part of me feels like I deserve that.

I don’t know whether this is something a marriage can come back from. I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me, and I don’t know if he should.

I guess I’m writing this because I don’t know what to do next.

If you’ve been on either side of infidelity, whether you were the one who cheated or the one who was cheated on, how did you move forward? Did your relationship survive? If it didn’t, how did you begin to rebuild yourself?

I’m not asking anyone to excuse my actions.

The universe handed me an unexpected couple of days off this week.

I got sick and, because I nanny for a living, staying home was the obvious choice. Nobody wants the lady in charge of tiny humans showing up with a sore throat and body aches. The family was incredibly kind about it, but I still felt guilty. Even when you’re legitimately sick, there’s always that little voice asking if you should be doing more.

Yesterday was my first official adventure with the car seat setup, and honestly, it went great.

I met up with another nanny and the little girl she watches at one of the most wonderfully shaded parks I’ve ever been to. A friend showed it to me ages ago, and I’d forgotten how nice it is. The kids had a blast, we got to chat, and afterward we stopped at Chick-fil-A. The two-year-old’s mom is okay with Chick-fil-A, so we shared grilled nuggets, kale salad, and fruit. Normally I would have ordered fries, but I was feeling surprisingly responsible. However, I did eat like trash for the rest of the night.

Today I’m house-sitting for a family I’ve worked with many times before. They have a pool, a hot tub, dogs, and a beautiful screened-in patio. It’s basically a tiny vacation.

Which brings me to my current problem.

For reasons I cannot fully explain, sitting alone on a screened patio while smoking a joint transforms me into the strangest version of myself.

I had this brilliant idea that maybe I’d make a video. Not because I necessarily want to be an influencer, but because sometimes I feel this deep desire to be seen. Not literally seen. Emotionally seen. Witnessed. Understood.

Of course, the moment I tried recording, I became painfully aware of myself.

I did four takes.

Four.

I couldn’t get through a single one.

My thoughts were bouncing around like a pinball machine. I’d start one story, forget where I was going, jump to another story, remember the first story halfway through the second story, and somehow end up discussing something completely unrelated.

Eventually I gave up.

Maybe I’m not meant to be a content creator.

Or maybe my brain just has approximately 147 tabs open at all times.

I’ve also noticed I’ve slipped back into doomscrolling lately. I’m annoyed about it, but I’m trying not to turn it into a moral failing. Sometimes life gets busy, emotions get weird, hormones get involved, and suddenly you’re staring at videos of strangers organizing their refrigerators at midnight.

Speaking of hormones, I’m pretty sure being in my luteal phase explains at least some of the emotional chaos.

Everything feels louder during this phase.

The need for connection feels louder.

The loneliness feels louder.

The desire to be understood feels louder.

Maybe that’s why I wanted to make the video in the first place.

Maybe I wanted someone to say, “Yeah, me too.”

Later today I’m meeting up with a friend I haven’t seen in forever. We used to work together, and oddly enough, we’re much better friends than we ever were coworkers. When we worked together, I got my feelings hurt constantly. As friends, she’s one of my favorite people.

She’s probably bringing her boyfriend, which I’m perfectly happy about because he’s hilarious and always adds to the conversation.

That did get me thinking about something I’ve been wrestling with lately, though.

Sometimes I feel embarrassed bringing my husband around certain friends.

Typing that makes me cringe because I love him deeply.

So what is that?

Am I actually embarrassed of him?

Or am I embarrassed of how other people might perceive him?

And if people judge him, do I secretly worry they’re judging me too?

I don’t have an answer.

I just know it’s something I’ve been trying to untangle.

Marriage is strange sometimes. You can love someone completely while still trying to understand your own reactions to them.

Anyway.

In about an hour and a half I have a scalp evaluation appointment, which feels delightfully ridiculous and luxurious. Then later I’ll get to catch up with my friend and hear all the life updates I’ve missed.

Not a bad day, honestly.

May 29th

I went out with my new friend and we hit the bars. There were plenty of aggressively average men shooting their shots all night. You know the type. The confidence of a movie star, the face of a guy who reviews lawn mowers on YouTube.

My friend and I danced the night away, and honestly? I was completely mesmerized watching her dance. If talent could be bottled and sold, she’d owe me royalties for how much I hyped her up that night.

Afterward, we made the only logical life choice and went to Waffle House. Nothing says “successful night out” quite like ending the evening under fluorescent lighting with scattered hash browns. I got home and immediately passed out.

May 30th

The next morning, I went to a friend’s house and we decided to drive out to John’s Pass for these famous Bloody Marys.

Important detail: We were dressed exactly like people going to the beach. Shorts. Bikini tops. The whole beach package.

Apparently, the beach bar was deeply offended by the existence of beach attire at a beach.

They turned us away and suggested we go to Hooters instead.

Which is still one of the funniest interactions I’ve ever had.

“We can’t serve you dressed like that.”

“Try the restaurant where the uniform is shorter.”

Outstanding.

So we went to Hooters, had a drink, and then jumped on one of those free beach buses where you just leave a tip. We bounced around to a couple more beach bars, danced a bit, and eventually ended up at another spot on the water.

My husband met us there later, and we went swimming in the ocean.

Then a 23-year-old started hitting on me.

In front of my husband.

Bold strategy.

My husband eventually headed home, and this guy apparently interpreted that as the beginning of his audition. He came down to the beach, asked me to go swimming with him, and started trying to flirt.

Sir.

I am married.

Now, to be fair, if I were single, would I have been interested?

Probably.

Am I single?

No.

So I politely shut that down and went home to my husband, who remains my favorite choice.

The evening ended on a very positive note, and that’s all the details the internet gets.

May 31st

I woke up ridiculously early and borrowed some inflatable paddle boards from a friend. Then I picked up a few other friends and drove about an hour north to some springs.

Unfortunately, it had rained the day before, so the water wasn’t clear at all. Usually, you can see straight to the bottom, but this time it looked like somebody had stirred the entire spring with a giant spoon.

We stayed out for about an hour and a half. Even though the water wasn’t great, paddle boarding was still fun.

The highlight was seeing two swamp puppies.

For anyone unfamiliar with Florida terminology, that means alligators.

They were adorable from a respectful distance that allowed me to continue being alive.

After that, we drove to one of the oldest cemeteries in Florida and did a little ghost hunting. We broke out the dowsing rods, spirit box, and EMF reader.

The spirit box gave us absolutely nothing.

The EMF reader gave us absolutely nothing.

The rods, however, seemed a little more cooperative.

We chatted with a few residents who had been born in the 1800s and passed away in the early 1900s.

Whether we actually contacted anyone or just had a very engaging conversation with ourselves remains up for debate.

Then I headed home, my husband and I went to Sam’s Club, I made dog food, and I was asleep by 9 PM like the elderly Victorian ghost woman I apparently am now.

June 1st

Today was my first day doing the car seat adventure routine with the girls.

The park near their house closes to the public during the summer because of camp, so I had to find a replacement.

Success.

I took them to a new park this morning and they absolutely loved it. We had so much fun that it’s probably going to become our new regular spot.

I’m only doing one outing today since it’s our first day adjusting to the new routine. Their mom is working from home, the girls are currently napping, and when they wake up we’ll probably play with water in the backyard and hang out inside for the rest of the afternoon.

Honestly, a pretty solid day.

I’m off at five, my husband is off tonight too, and we’re having lasagna for dinner.

Not a bad way to start June.

Current life status:

* Making new friends.

* Accidentally getting recruited by beach boys.

* Talking to ghosts.

* Chasing toddlers.

* Eating lasagna.

Hey humans!

Today started with a very important appointment: nail day. 💅

My nail girl is finally back from maternity leave (congrats again, queen 👑), but since my nails haven’t been professionally cared for in a while, they’re currently tiny little nubbins. We kept it simple and did a super subtle, ashy blue French tip, and I am absolutely obsessed. They’re short, they’re cute, they’re classy, and they’re making me feel way more put together than I actually am.

The plan is to let them grow out a bit. Hopefully by the next appointment, or maybe the one after that, they’ll be long enough for the fruit nail design we’ve been planning. Four weeks can’t come soon enough.

After my appointment, I went home and promptly passed out on the couch until around 3 PM. Apparently my body had some opinions about my schedule this week because I was completely exhausted.

Later, I met up with a girl from Facebook Marketplace and picked up the cutest pair of skates. They’re Impala high-top quad skates in blue with peace signs, rainbows, little doves, and all kinds of happy-girl energy. I love them already and now I just need to remember how to skate without looking like a newborn deer.

As I’m writing this, I’m still somehow exhausted despite sleeping half the afternoon. Maybe I slept too much. Maybe not enough. Maybe adulthood is just permanent confusion.

Tonight I’m meeting a new friend who is also a nanny. We’re grabbing drinks at a beach bar because she thinks one of the bartenders is cute, which means I have officially been assigned wing woman duties. If all goes according to plan, she’ll get a bartender and I’ll get entertainment.

I’ll update you guys if anything exciting happens.

As for today, again, another normal girl day with the girls. Nothing too crazy.

Today was technically my last day for the week, and yesterday they asked if I could come in Friday morning, which I normally NEVER work and honestly protect like a medieval treasure chest. Fridays are sacred.

But I’ve had this nail appointment booked for over a month because my nail girl just had a baby. Congratulations queen 💅🏼 Tiny human successfully crafted.

She finally opened appointments back up, and between waiting for availability and waiting until I had actual adult money, I was absolutely not missing this appointment. I checked her booking website first and there was literally nothing available, but since we used to work together I texted her personally like “hey bestie… any chance?” and she was like “girl I’m fully booked.”

And I was like understandable. Respectfully though, I will still be there. I’ve waited too long. At this point this appointment is less of a want and more of a constitutional right.

So I told them I could help in the morning, but only until like 8:45 because my appointment is at 9 and it’s about a 15 minute drive. They originally wanted me till 9, but thankfully the mother-in-law was able to come early.

Then today while I was driving home, he told me they actually don’t need me tomorrow morning anymore, which honestly felt like the universe tossing me a little treat for surviving this week.

So now I’m home doing bills. My phone is on 9%. The charger is in the other room. Am I going to get it? Absolutely not. I have entered the “if I move I’ll ruin the vibe” stage of the evening.

Also it’s cold and I need a blanket, but I left mine in the car because apparently every day I like to add one optional side quest to my life.

I’m sitting in my favorite room in the house right now. It used to be this old sunroom that got turned into part of the house, but now it’s basically the cat lounge. I found these vintage 70s chairs at a thrift store, one yellow and one green, same fabric but different styles, and together they look like divorced siblings reconnecting at a funeral.

The room itself honestly feels like if a grandma, a stoner, and a mildly depressed art student all decorated one room together.

So currently it’s me, the dogs, a couple of my cats, low battery anxiety, and a spreadsheet full of financial jump scares.

I’m trying really hard to pay stuff off. I’m on “Week August 21” in my budgeting plan right now, which sounds less like financial planning and more like the title of an indie apocalypse movie.

Hopefully by then I’ll have one credit card fully paid off. Which still leaves the car payment, student loans, another credit card, my other other credit card, and my husband’s credit card. So basically every corporation in America still has me in a chokehold, but one battle at a time I guess.

I know I’m a shopaholic. I’m aware. Target specifically has me psychologically profiled like a lab rat. I walk in for toothpaste and leave with seasonal candles, a throw pillow, and a new personality.

But I am genuinely trying really hard not to spend unnecessarily and also trying to give myself grace because I refuse to spend my entire life only working, paying bills, dying, repeat. That sounds like the world’s worst subscription service.

This little budgeting system weirdly helps though. Breaking everything into smaller goals makes it feel less impossible and more like maybe someday I won’t get personally attacked by my banking app every morning.

Anyway. We’ll see how long it takes me to pay everything off assuming life doesn’t hit me with another random expense like a folding chair to the back of the head.

Sorry I haven’t updated my one follower lately, which honestly I appreciate 😂 I’ve just been busy.

Quick update because my husband just called and is on the way home, and I absolutely cannot let this man discover my anonymous little corner of the internet. This blog is basically just me screaming into the void because apparently I need to feel seen. Childhood lore probably.

Anyway, yesterday was another day with the girls. Same vibes as usual, nothing super groundbreaking there.

BUT it was my husband’s day off, so we decided to drive about an hour southeast to go to a drive-in theater and see The Mandalorian & Grogu. Honestly such a good movie and we love that place. You pull up, throw blankets and pillows in the back of the SUV, bring snacks, the dogs come with us, and the people that own it are so sweet. It’s cash only and like $19 for two people which in this economy feels borderline illegal.

The dogs get spoiled with treats every time too, which they now fully expect as part of the experience.

We left a little early because apparently we’re emotionally attached to turning ordinary errands into public relations events. I swear things always sound cooler in my head than when I type them out, but basically we stopped halfway there because my husband was being hot and I decided to provide a fun little appetizer before the main course 💀

Then we switched places because I was driving originally, parked in a mostly empty shaded parking lot with like two random cars nearby, and proceeded to briefly become teenagers with fully developed frontal lobes and back pain.

Honestly though? It was really good. Like weirdly reconnecting. We’ve both been stressed and exhausted lately and for a couple hours it felt like we were back in our early twenties sneaking around with no responsibilities except gas station snacks and bad decisions.

Also yes, there may or may not have been a joint involved before the movie. Allegedly.

Then we went to the drive-in, watched Grogu be adorable, cuddled with the dogs in the back of the SUV like some weird little traveling circus family, came home, and absolutely passed out.

Good morning fellow swamp goblins and SPF warriors. I’m currently typing this wearing nothing but socks because I just lotioned my feet and refused to let them touch the floor afterward. If you know, you know. Nothing ruins the feeling of freshly moisturized feet faster than one rogue cat litter crumb. Absolute betrayal.

My morning skincare routine is a little different from my nighttime one, so here’s the chaos schedule.

First thing I do is take the dogs outside to go potty because I do not trust Florida wildlife. My Chihuahua is tiny and I’ve seen enough birds in this state to know some of them look at him like a chicken nugget with anxiety.

After they do their business, I come back inside and go potty myself because apparently the entire household runs on the same biological clock.

Then I brush my teeth and wash my face with the ACCURE face wash. It works fine for now, but honestly she may get replaced soon. We’re in a trial separation phase.

After I dry my face with a fresh towel, I go in with the Byoma Milky Toner and let that sink in while I moisturize the rest of my body with the Hawaiian Tropic Weightless Hydration sunscreen lotion. Not my face though. She gets her own special treatment because she’s dramatic and oily.

I actually really like this lotion because I usually only moisturize my body at night, but this keeps me feeling soft all day and helps keep me from turning into a Florida rotisserie chicken. If I’m outside for a while though, I definitely have to reapply. Usually I’ll use spray sunscreen because I’m lazy and life is short.

Also listen. I have TRIED the “nontoxic” product rabbit hole. I really have. Some of the products are great, but when it comes to sunscreen, deodorant, laundry detergent, and hair care, my body apparently wants the chemical soup. Every natural deodorant I’ve tried either gave up halfway through the day or made me smell like wet granola.

After my body lotion situation, I put on my Coochie deodorant. Yes, the homemade one. Yes, I wash my hands after because I’m not a feral raccoon.

Then I go in with the Good Molecules niacinamide treatment followed by the Trader Joe’s Ultra Hydrating Gel Moisturizer. Once that dries, I use the Neutrogena Clear Face SPF 50 because I am pale enough to get sunburned by emotional distress.

For makeup, I keep it super simple. Just the e.l.f. brow gel and the e.l.f. blush/lip tint combo. Sometimes purple mascara if I’m feeling whimsical and vitamin deficient.

I was actually a semi-responsible adult after work today, which honestly feels suspicious. Went to Publix and grabbed breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next three days. No meal prep, just some frozen dinners, protein oatmeal, coffee creamer, ice cream and microwaveable protein Mac n cheese. You know adult food. 

Came home and had some personal maintenance time, which was very nice. Finding free content online these days though is basically like trying to sneak into a members-only club with a fake mustache. Nothing works anymore. I ended up on hentai sites, so we adapt and overcome. We listen and we move on.

After that I ate dinner, fed and medicated all my animals, took my own meds, sea moss, prenatal vitamins, fish oils, drank a ton of water, and basically turned myself into a well-hydrated pharmacy display.

Smoked a large joint, started laundry, packed my bag for work tomorrow, and then entered what I can only describe as an Everything Shower Event.

Tonight’s lineup included:

• Pre-oiling my hair like I am prepping a vintage engine

• Malibu Undo Goo clarifying shampoo (currently exfoliating my entire personality)

• L’Oréal Elvive hydrating shampoo with an aggressive scalp massage I’m sure is technically illegal

• Dr. Bronner’s baby soap to remove all evidence I exist in society

• Face and body cleanse situation that required multiple rounds and emotional commitment

Then the face care arc continued:

• Accure face wash

• Rice mask

• Milky toner

• Gel moisturizer

• Thick barrier cream on top because my skin and I are in a fragile relationship

Body care followed:

• Tree Hut scrub

• Seaweed Bath Co wash for shaving duties

• Full-body moisturizing while still damp like a freshly steamed dumpling

Hair got conditioned, brushed, and wrapped in a towel like I am a stressed Victorian child awaiting tea.

And then I had a moment.

I’m standing there, home alone, naked, and I hear this weird breathing sound. Like actual breathing. Deep, slow, unsettling breathing.

I fully froze and accepted that I was about to meet my end covered in lime papaya body wash.

Turns out it was just my Apple Watch alarm telling me to switch the laundry.

So I survived. Barely.

After that I inserted a boric acid because I enjoy feeling fresh and not feral, used my homemade deodorant, sprayed leave-in conditioner, brushed my hair, then absolutely bathed myself in EOS Coconut Waters spray and Sun’s Eye oil because I am trying very hard to smell like a coastal goddess and not a stressed lizard.

Yes, I put perfume on my ankles. No, I will not be explaining that further.

I am actively trying to become one of those people who naturally smells like a soft botanical dream, but right now I feel like a moisturized rotisserie chicken with aspirations.

Also, my mom randomly mailed me a box of my old stuff from my high school closet today.

There are photos, elementary school papers, middle school journals that probably should have stayed buried, and apparently I was on honor roll a lot which is shocking because I remember mostly panicking and drawing random things in the margins of my life.

There are also photos from when my mom lived in Thailand, which I haven’t fully gone through yet, but it already feels like opening a time capsule made by five different versions of me who would absolutely not recognize each other in a grocery store.

Anyway.

Laundry is in the dryer.

I smell aggressively tropical.

I am moisturized beyond reason.

And I am going to bed like a slightly over-lotioned cryptid.

First update of the day ☀️

The mom I nanny for asked me to come in 30 minutes early this morning, which was totally fine. I walked in and both girls were shirtless, squealing like tiny little feral piglets because they were so excited to see me. We’re using fake names for privacy, so toddler is Penelope and baby is Patricia. Honestly seeing them that happy to see me first thing in the morning melted my cold little goblin heart.

Mom had jury duty today, so hopefully they send her home early so she can actually enjoy her day instead of sitting under fluorescent lighting contemplating society.

Apparently she cleaned out the girls’ closets yesterday and got rid of a bunch of clothes they don’t fit anymore, so I went ahead and reorganized everything, put a bunch away, and got the house ready for the cleaning ladies. I was in full “tiny human personal assistant” mode this morning.

Little Patricia usually has her bottle around 9:30-9:45 AM, but lately I’ve noticed she’s being crankier earlier, so I trusted the vibes and gave it to her around 9 instead. Girl immediately powered down like a little iPad on 2%. She napped from about 9:30 to 10:20.

While Patricia was sleeping, Penelope did some self play, helped me clean up a bit, and I finished the dishes while sipping my morning tea pretending I had my life together. I packed both girls’ lunches and extra clothes early because the cleaning ladies are usually still here during lunch time and I refuse to live in lunchtime chaos.

Also HUGE potty training win today. Penelope went pee and poop on the potty completely by herself without me even asking. I was out here trying not to act like she had just graduated Harvard. Then later at the park she told me TWICE that she had to potty. She did end up going in her pull-up, which is completely fine, but the fact she recognized it and communicated it? Absolute queen behavior. We celebrate growth in this household 💅

We went to the park for a couple hours and met up with some other nannies and kiddos. The Florida heat was personally attacking all of us, but the girls had a blast. Penelope had snacks, danced around like a tiny drunk fairy, and fully lived her best toddler life.

We all had lunch at the park and then came back home while the cleaners were still here, so we hung out outside for a little bit until the bedrooms were done. Then I got Penelope ready for nap time, read her a book, tucked her in, and she rolled around in her crib for like 20 minutes before finally passing out like she had just completed a 12 hour factory shift.

After Penelope went down, I gave Patricia her bottle, read to her, and put her down for her nap too. She played in her crib for maybe five minutes before absolutely face-planting into sleep. Both girls are currently knocked out and the silence in this house feels suspicious.

The rest of the afternoon is already planned out. We’re not actually going grocery shopping—we’re doing pretend grocery shopping in the house, which honestly might be more chaotic than the real thing. I already set up the canopy and we’re gonna throw on swimsuits and spray each other with hoses because Florida said “what if the air itself was soup?”

I folded all the girls’ clothes, started laundry, and honestly today feels weirdly productive. Plus the cleaners came today so I barely even have to clean anything myself. Bless.

ALSO exciting update: I got permission from Mom and Dad to buy cheap car seats so I can finally start taking the girls places. I already sent them a couple options and I’m just waiting for the A-OK before buying them. Hopefully they’ll be here tonight or tomorrow because the park within walking distance is closing for the summer next week and honestly it’s getting way too hot to survive outdoors for long anyway.

Final update for the day 🌊

My husband and I met up with his aunt, uncle, cousin, his wife, his mom, and her husband at the beach. It was actually really nice. I went swimming for a bit and attempted to become one with the ocean until the Florida heat started cooking me like a rotisserie chicken.

After that I went and let Roxy out one last time before heading home. Jarvis was still out and about being the neighborhood cryptid as usual. Honestly that cat moves around like he pays taxes there.

I also talked to my psychiatrist and we adjusted one of my medications, so we’ll see how that goes. Shoutout to brain chemistry for constantly keeping things interesting ✨

Then Husband and I got Sonny’s BBQ because we haven’t had it in forever. Unfortunately nostalgia lied directly to my face. It was expensive and mid. I could’ve eaten a hamburger bun dipped in barbecue sauce at home and saved money.

Later we took a movie compatibility quiz on ChatGPT to figure out what to watch and ended up choosing Dungeons & Dragons again. Absolute solid choice. Honestly that movie has the energy of a group project where somehow everyone actually did their part.

Before we got frozen custard, Husband and I had some really nice intimate time together. It had been about a month, so emotionally that honestly meant a lot to me too. Especially after my last relationship post, I did end up talking to him more openly and told him I wanted to feel desired again. He really listened, made me feel wanted, and it genuinely made me feel closer to him.

Then immediately after I passed out like an elderly Victorian woman with weak ankles 😂

Relationships are weird because sometimes nobody is technically doing anything horrible and you still end up feeling lonely as hell.

My husband and I have had a rocky couple of years. Even before we got married we had differences. I’m adventurous and emotional and constantly craving connection and experiences and reassurance. He’s more of a homebody lately, quieter, more withdrawn. We’ve talked about it a million times. I know he’s depressed. I’m depressed too. We’re both trying in our own ways.

And I see his effort. I do.

He fixed things in the backyard without me asking. He works hard. He still makes me laugh sometimes. He’s attractive. The sex is amazing when life actually lines up enough for us to have it.

But lately it feels like we’re ships passing each other covered in bills, stress, hormones, exhaustion, and bad timing.

If he’s in the mood, I’m not.

If I’m in the mood, he’s not.

Or I’m bleeding for two weeks straight because my body likes performance art apparently.

I’m never home because I’m housesitting trying to make extra money.

He’s never home because he’s working.

And when we finally are together, it feels tense for no reason.

Like I walk into the room already emotionally bracing for impact.

The messed up part is I feel happier when I’m away sometimes. Lighter. Then I come home and suddenly I’m anxious and on edge and trying not to cry over somebody sighing too hard in the kitchen.

I know I’m a lot.

I need reassurance constantly but then I get overstimulated.

I want attention but also silence.

I want affection but not judgment.

I want to feel desired without feeling like a burden for needing it.

And lately I just feel like a burden.

Nobody cheated.

Nobody left.

We’ve been together five years and married for over a year now.

I think that’s what makes it harder to explain.

Nothing is catastrophically wrong.

We’re just slowly emotionally missing each other and I don’t know what to do with that.

But I also know this:

I’m not letting someone else’s bad mood swallow my entire day anymore.

If he wants to be grouchy, fine.

Good morning my fellow unhealthy and weird human beings.

It is my last day housesitting with Roxy. I’m about to take her on her morning walk, and her family gets home around 11 PM tonight. Since it’s Memorial Day, I’m gonna go hang out with my husband and his family at the beach later, but first I wanted to ask y’all something.

So right now I’m on SERTRALINE in the morning, CLONAZEPAM twice a day or as needed for anxiety attacks, and then PRAZOSIN for nightmares. Except I’ve been out of the PRAZOSIN for like three weeks because Walgreens and my psychiatrist’s office apparently move at the speed of a dying sloth.

They diagnosed me with PMDD, which honestly maybe makes sense? I don’t even know anymore.

Long story short, I was seeing a therapist for a couple years, but I switched because I felt like I outgrew the first one. We just kept talking about politics and how angry everything made me, and eventually I realized I needed more than that. So I started seeing another therapist more focused on anger management.

And listen, I love therapists. They’re great. But I don’t wanna just sit there talking about my feelings forever. I wanna know what the fuck is actually wrong with me. I feel like every therapist gives the same advice:

regulate yourself, breathe, journal, grounding exercises, blah blah blah.

I’ve tried all of it. Some of it helps temporarily, but none of it ever felt like it fixed the actual issue.

So I stopped therapy and started seeing a psychologist instead, but honestly I kinda feel like they don’t really care either. Half the time it feels like:

“Here’s some meds, good luck, see you in two months.”

There was one time I told them I thought I might have ADHD because of some symptoms I was having, and they were basically like:

“Yeah I could see that. Here’s medication.”

The medication made me absolutely unbearable. My anxiety got SO much worse. I was constantly on edge, irritated, angry, and even my husband was like:

“Yeah… these meds are not working for you.”

So I told them that, and then suddenly it became:

“Well does it get worse around your period?”

And I was like:

“I mean… maybe???”

So then they diagnosed me with PMDD.

Honestly, the CLONAZEPAM definitely helps when I’m having anxiety attacks, but the SERTRALINE? I genuinely don’t even notice if I forget to take it sometimes. And since I’ve been off the PRAZOSIN for three weeks anyway, now I’m questioning if I even needed that either.

I also took like three online autism tests from reputable sources, and every single one basically screamed:

“girl you might be high-functioning autistic.”

I’m supposed to talk to my psychiatrist today, but I lost my insurance switching jobs. I went from being a vet tech to nannying, so now I don’t have insurance anymore. Now I pay out of pocket.

Honestly though? Insurance feels like the biggest scam on earth sometimes. Why would I pay $500 a month just to STILL pay copays when I can literally just pay out of pocket every couple months and use GoodRx for cheaper meds anyway?

And dental insurance? Don’t even get me started.

I worked at a dental office for nine months, and dental insurance honestly mostly just covers cleanings and fillings. Anything actually expensive and important still comes out of your pocket.

Luckily I have decent teeth genetically because a lot of people don’t realize you can take amazing care of your teeth and STILL end up screwed because genetics matter so much. Dry mouth can also make cavities worse because saliva actually helps protect your teeth. At least I think that’s true. If I’m wrong don’t publicly execute me.

ANYWAY.

I kinda wanna find a new psychiatrist. I don’t know. I just want somebody who actually wants to figure me out instead of throwing random labels and medications at me like darts at a carnival game.

So if any of y’all have suggestions or similar experiences, let me know.

But for now I just finished walking Roxy, I’m about to feed her, and then I’m gonna lather my entire pale haunted Victorian child body in sunscreen because I am aggressively white.

I always do a base layer every day, then reapply about 30 minutes before getting in the water, and then every 30 minutes to an hour after that because the Florida sun is basically a laser pointer aimed directly at my ancestors.

More updates later.

Good morning, crouch goblins. Here is my 3rd attempt at blogging for my mental health.

Jarvis walked with Roxy and me this morning, and it was precious. I need a Jarvis in my life. I felt like a dollar store Disney princess.

I had my repeat breakfast by myself again. Blah blah blah. BUT this time I got chocolate pancakes again, so honestly? Score.

I’ve got another packed day today. I’m gonna take Roxy back to my place so she can get all her orc energy out. Then I’m babysitting my 3-year-old nephew from 3:30 to 9:30. We’ll probably hit a splash pad and get ice cream because I am literally the best aunt ever. More updates to come.

⸻

So I was outside in my backyard with my two dogs and Roxy. My husband came out to join us, and everything was going good.

Our yard is basically overtaken by lubbers. I think that’s what they’re called. Those giant invasive grasshopper things. If we ever wanted a garden, we’d definitely have to get rid of them because they just keep multiplying.

Anyway, this huge yellow one starts slowly walking toward me, and I’m over here like, “Come on little guy,” because obviously I can’t hurt him if he’s trying to become my friend.

Then my husband takes his flip-flop and smacks him.

Not enough to kill him. Just enough to horribly injure him.

So now this poor little dude is basically dying in front of me, and I asked my husband to put him out of his misery, and he goes, “Nope, I’m not getting back up again.”

So then I had to grab a rock and do it myself because I couldn’t just leave him suffering.

And YES, I was upset afterward. Especially because I was literally in the middle of bonding with him. Like what the fuck, dude.

Then my husband goes, “Oh, now you’re mad at me?” and walks back inside laughing while I’m left staring at this tragic little grasshopper carcass feeling weirdly emotional about it.

Which honestly feels very on brand for me.

⸻

Right now it’s 2:10, and I’m currently walking Roxy.

I babysit my nephew from 3:30 to 9:30 tonight. I decided I’m gonna take him to a secondhand baby store because I need car seats anyway. Since I nanny, I really should have my own instead of constantly borrowing my sister’s. Plus she’s having another baby, so it just makes sense.

I don’t trust Amazon for stuff like that, and Facebook Marketplace scares me a little, so hopefully the secondhand place has something decent.

After that we’ll probably do the splash pad, ice cream, maybe dinner. Should be fun.

After I got home from letting Roxy run around my backyard, I cleaned up the house I’m housesitting at, packed some stuff since I’ll probably shower at my sister’s tonight instead of there, wiped everything down, vacuumed, took out the trash, the whole responsible adult starter pack.

Then I cleaned my car because it was getting gross. I smoke in there, plus I’m constantly at the beach, so there’s always sand everywhere. I disinfected the doors, dashboard, cupholders, all that. Didn’t vacuum though because honestly there is no point. Florida sand is basically a permanent roommate.

Afterward I sat down, smoked for a little bit, watched Margo’s Got Money Troubles, answered some social media messages, and temporarily unblocked everything because I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything important from my brother. That’s basically the only way we keep in contact.

Love that man. He’s got issues, but don’t we all.

Also, I hope you guys know I’m literally just voice-texting all of this into my notes app and then pasting it into ChatGPT or Grammarly like, “Hey. Please make this readable because I apparently communicate like a raccoon digging through a dumpster.”

They clean it up a little, but it’s still all my words.

And honestly? I’m really enjoying this.

Even if nobody reads it.

It’s helping me. I haven’t felt this version of myself in a long time. I feel poppy. Vibrant. Sexy. Like I’m finally crawling back into my own skin again.

Granted, I also just finished my period, so I’m pretty sure this is my follicular phase carrying me through life like a spiritual Red Bull.

But still. I’ll take it.

⸻

So I got to my sister’s house around 3. Her husband and my nephew were still out golfing, so I actually got some one-on-one time with her, which was nice because she’s pregnant and we don’t get that much anymore.

I was gonna take my nephew thrift shopping with me, but everything was closing already, so instead we went to the mall.

We played at the playground, wandered around the arcade, and since he’s only three, we got to “play” almost every game without spending any money because pretending is still a fully functioning currency at that age.

Honestly? Incredible deal.

Then we drove to a splash pad and walked all the way there just for them to shut it off like five minutes after we arrived because of the weather.

ALSO, I forgot to mention this part.

On the walk there, there were musicians playing outside and two homeless guys started fighting right in front of us. One shoved the other one down, and the guy couldn’t get back up.

And everybody around us was just standing there recording.

That shit makes me so angry.

So I called 911 because what the fuck else are you supposed to do? I probably would’ve gone over myself if I didn’t have my nephew with me.

After that we headed back to the house. He took a bath then I showered, and I put on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse for him while I got ready.

Then we got Wendy’s, ate dinner together, watched more Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, read a few books, and he completely passed out.

Now I’m laying on my sister’s couch snuggled up with her cat, playing Love Island like the distinguished intellectual that I am, waiting for them to get home so I can let Roxy out one more time before I absolutely crash.

May 23, 2026

Good morning my chaotic, carefree, loving weirdos out there. This is my second attempt at blogging my day for my mental health, so here we are.

So far, it’s been an amazing morning. I’m still currently housesitting in the cutest little beach town. Took the dog on her morning walk, let Jarvis, the real Jarvis, outside to hang out for the day since he spent all day inside yesterday after spending the entire day outside the day before. I literally still don’t understand how I mixed those cats up because they look absolutely nothing alike.

Katie attempted to come inside the house again last night. I feel really bad for her. Apparently she’s an outdoor-only cat and it honestly breaks my heart, but legally there’s nothing I can really do about it.

After my walk with Miss Roxy, I walked to one of my favorite breakfast spots and ate breakfast by myself. I had scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, a little sourdough toast, fruit, and coffee. A lot of places never have the coffee creamer I like, so yes, I’m one of those people who brings their own little creamer and collagen. Definitely got a few weird side-eyes but honestly? Fuck off. I’m taking care of my body.

Took my Klonopin this morning because I absolutely needed it. Feeling pretty zen so far. Couple puffs off the devil’s lettuce pen too, and honestly there’s just something weirdly empowering about going out to eat by yourself as a woman.

Of course I got some judgmental little geriatrics staring at my outfit. I’m wearing a bathing suit with a sheer cover-up and this sexy little black dress, and people were definitely looking. But like… we’re near the beach. I have a pool party and a wedding on the beach later. Relax.

I have really bad anxiety about people watching me or judging me. Like genuinely bad. I have a hard time even going into stores sometimes without freaking the fuck out, hence why I’m on three different medications. But I’m trying this new thing where even if I’m anxious, I just do it anyway.

And honestly? Even if everything I’m scared of does happen, I still feel stronger afterward for doing it.

We’ll see how long that lasts.

I did doomscroll a little last night while babysitting because I was so bored and genuinely didn’t know what to do, so if anyone has suggestions for hobbies or ways to stop rotting on my phone, let me know.

Right now I’m getting ready and rolling a pre-roll to take back to the house while I let this crazy-ass dog run around.

Okay, so it’s 12:30 now. I’m driving back to Roxy’s house to get ready for the pool party, which honestly I’m basically already ready for because I half got ready at the other house.

I put on brown eyeliner and darkened my freckles a little to make them pop more. I have green-ish hazel eyes, so I used purple mascara because apparently that makes them stand out more. Very scientific. Very makeup artist of me.

Just some pink blush and gloss on my lips and we’re calling it a day.

Roxy did really well today, which honestly she usually does. I actually brought her inside to meet the cats. Kira truly did not give a flying fuck which was amazing. They touched noses and she was basically like “yeah okay whatever.”

Blair, however, came RUNNING all puffed up and angry. Honestly? Adorable. Love her when she’s pissed off. Tiny bitch energy.

Eventually she did come over and sniff Roxy a few times though, which I liked.

Jinx, my husband’s cat, was absolutely not happy at all.

But Roxy just followed me around calmly and didn’t whine or freak out. She did so good. I’m really proud of her. I think this medication she’s on is absolutely killing it for her. Queen behavior.

Now I’m driving back to her place, dropping her off, grabbing more sunscreen, and heading to this pool party at two.

I’m excited. I’m gonna be living like I’m on Love Island. Specifically Casa Amor. Except I have to stay loyal to my husband, which I obviously will, but I’m not gonna lie, I do enjoy harmless friendly flirting.

There’s just something nice about attractive people complimenting you. It’s a confidence boost. As long as nothing gets weird or sexual or inappropriate, I honestly don’t think there’s anything wrong with a little playful banter.

Friendship flirting. That’s what I’m calling it.

I’m also trying really hard not to compare myself to other women today. If someone’s stomach is flatter than mine? Okay. Cool. Human bodies exist. Mine does too.

That’s part of why I’m writing these blogs. I need to get better about how I talk to myself.

So I just got to the pool party.

This is my old coworker’s sister’s party, and I literally do not know anyone. It starts at 2:00 and I got here at 1:58, which somehow feels wrong.

I don’t know if anyone else does this, but I’m sitting in my car waiting a few extra minutes because I’m anxious about being “too early.” I also parked farther away because I wanted the closer parking spots available for people who actually know everyone here.

Why am I like this?

Also now I suddenly have to pee even though I literally just peed before I left. I was at Publix buying alcohol-free sparkling wine, pineapple juice, and sunscreen and didn’t have to pee at all. Now that I’m here? Suddenly my bladder is holding me hostage.

Anxiety is so glamorous.

It’s 1:59. I guess I’m going in.

Pray for me.

Pool party update.

I’d say it was like… 70% good. Maybe a solid C+ socially for me.

I think I smoked a little too much and got too in my own head, but there were a couple people I genuinely connected with and they were really cool.

Then there were also moments where me and another person would just awkwardly go: “Hi.” “Hi.” And then silence.

You know. Human interaction.

My friend also invited another friend and this guy she’s been talking to, as she should, and honestly they were hitting it off so well that I didn’t want to third-wheel them. So I mostly tried to do my own thing.

Thank God there were dogs there because at one point I was literally just swimming in the pool with one of the dogs and honestly? Best conversation I had all day.

Overall though, it was okay. It was good.

I did accidentally Irish goodbye almost everybody though. I basically only said bye to my friend because the idea of announcing my departure to a bunch of people who barely know me honestly sounds horrifying.

Does anyone else do that or is that just an anxiety thing?

Like realistically nobody cares that much, but my brain acts like I’m escaping a royal gala unnoticed.

Anyway. Driving back now to shower and get ready for this beach wedding.

More updates later.

Final update from the next morning.

So I got to the beach wedding and the directions were basically: “North side of the beach between two pavilions.”

That’s it. That’s the instruction.

So I get there carrying my chair and bag, wandering around in a dress looking confused as hell because the beach is PACKED and I cannot find anyone anywhere.

I text them like: “Hey! Sorry, I’m sure you’re busy but where are you guys?”

And they reply: “Oh we’re not even there yet.”

Cool. Awesome. Fantastic.

So now my anxiety is through the roof because I’m just standing there alone dressed for a wedding feeling like a complete idiot, and honestly I think that’s what triggers most of my anxiety: the fear of looking stupid in public.

Eventually I spotted a couple I knew and their son, so thank God we all found each other and got settled.

And honestly? It ended up being beautiful.

Very sweet. Very fun. Everyone was super nice and the kids were great.

I stayed from around 6:15 to 8:30, and remember how my friend from the pool party told me to come back afterward?

Well I texted her from my car and she immediately replied: “We’re still going strong. Come back.”

So I did.

Apparently now there was a DJ because one of their friends just casually DJs for fun and decided to perform for everybody for free. The dog was still swimming. Everyone was dancing.

At this point I’d had a few glasses of champagne at the wedding, smoked a joint, and was feeling absolutely crossfaded and unstoppable.

So naturally I ran and jumped into the pool fully clothed.

We were dancing in the pool in our dresses, laughing our asses off, and honestly I’m so glad I went back.

Her sister was genuinely one of the sweetest people ever and even gave me a change of clothes since mine were soaked.

I stayed until a little after midnight, went back to the house-sitting house, walked the dog, and absolutely passed out.

Overall?

May 22nd, 2026

I’m just trying this out so don’t judge, okay?

I’m writing like I want someone to read this and think I’m cool, but secretly that also scares me because I need attention. Anyway. I’m rambling already.

I’m starting my own private little diary/blog situation mostly for my mental health and also to keep me from doomscrolling because we all know how toxic that gets. Especially when you compare yourself to literally everyone and everything online.

Also, yes, I’m having ChatGPT be my therapist and editor. I know AI is horrible for the environment. I do care about the environment. Unfortunately, I also care about talking endlessly into the void and having immediate feedback.

And before anyone starts judging me for talking to AI, mind your business. I’m poor. Therapy is expensive. Editors are expensive. Existing is expensive.

Anyway.

Today was actually a pretty good day.

I’m currently housesitting at a cute little apartment with a pitbull and a cat. I watched them a few months ago too, so I already knew the routine. The cat, Jarvis, likes hanging outside during the day and comes home at night.

So last night I’m walking the dog, and I see a cat outside that vaguely looks like Jarvis. It’s dark, I’m stoned, confidence is high for absolutely no reason, so I go:

“Come on Jarvis, let’s go inside.”

And this cat just RUNS into the apartment.

Immediately I’m like… okay. That doesn’t really look like Jarvis, but also what other cat would confidently enter this apartment?

So now I’m trying to convince myself I’m just too high and forgot what Jarvis looks like.

But then this cat starts acting weird. Hissing at me a little. Pissed at the dog. Just fully giving “I do not live here” energy.

At one point I almost texted the owners, but then I was like no. No. I’m just really stoned. Let’s not involve other people yet.

So I give the cat space and go to bed with the dog locked in the bedroom because now I’m scared of this random possibly-not-Jarvis cat roaming the apartment at night.

The next morning I still can’t find the cat anywhere.

I take the dog outside, open the apartment door, and THE REAL JARVIS walks in like a suburban dad returning from Lowe’s.

Immediately I’m like.

Okay.

Whose fucking cat did I accidentally kidnap?

So now I’m searching the apartment and eventually this mystery cat crawls out from under the bed me and the dog were sleeping on all night and just goes “meow.”

Which honestly felt passive aggressive.

I let the cat outside, take a picture, and call my husband laughing hysterically because how does this even happen?

Then I text the owner the picture and she goes:

“Oh yeah, that’s Katie. She tries to come into our apartment all the time.”

EXCUSE ME???

So apparently I just successfully participated in this cat’s long-term burglary plan.

Anyway.

After that, my husband and I went to my favorite breakfast place. I had chocolate chip pancakes and before anyone says anything, I’m 31 years old and I’ll die defending chocolate chip pancakes. I also had eggs, grits, bacon, coffee, water. I had all of it. No regrets.

Then we went to his grandma’s old house that his aunt uses as a vacation place so we could blow up paddleboards and go out on the water.

And before anyone gets the wrong idea: We are not paddleboard rich. Brendan’s family is rich. The paddleboards belong to my friend who used them like four times before she had a baby three years ago, and I’ve basically been borrowing them ever since.

Honestly? Amazing hobby. Love it.

We spent about an hour out there and realized it’s probably not the best swimming spot. There were stingrays everywhere which was cool in theory, but not exactly relaxing.

I’m more of a spring girl. My husband is more beach-coded.

We came home, I picked up the dog I’m watching, and brought her back to our house so she could run around in the backyard while my husband and I mowed the lawn.

Also important: I mowed the lawn for the first time in my entire life today.

And honestly? Kind of empowering.

I’m also VERY glad I forced my husband to get the self-propelled mower because if I had to raw dog a standard push mower in Florida heat I would simply pass away.

The dog ran around playing ball the whole time and now she’s exhausted, which is great because she’s actually insane.

Later tonight I have to babysit from 7:30 to 9:30, but honestly the parents already said the kids will basically be asleep and I just have to exist on the couch for two hours.

Dream job.

So right now I’m killing time. It’s 3 PM. I’m playing Love Island on my phone which, yes, sounds embarrassing, but for those who get it, get it.

The rest of you can mind your business.

I also have some new Muppet show on in the background, but I’m not even watching it at this point. It’s just emotional support noise.

At 5 I’m walking to the beach because I’m literally a two-minute walk away right now, which feels illegal. I set alarms for everything because otherwise I lose all sense of time and suddenly it’s midnight and I’m eating shredded cheese over the sink.

So the plan is: Beach at 5. Leave at 5:45. Shower by 6. PJs. Walk dog. Feed everybody. Leave by 7:10. Babysit. Probably play more Love Island on the couch.