don't touch me

dude when we get our own local and i’m forced to become a union steward, i’ll probably have to start taking drugs. or drinking. i really can’t see another way i would cope with that.

our postdoc is texting me pictures while she’s doing surgeries on mice asking me how to find the pancreas. mind you she’s been here for a year and this is a lab that studies exclusively the pancreas.

partiful is such a comprehensive app. i can’t wait until it’s $20 a month.

my book club picked two books in a row that were from men’s perspectives and i said “we need to pick a woman author next because i can’t stand the way men think about women anymore” next book? lolita

the only emotion i experience particularly strongly is glee. like straight up spinning around and giggling. whistling a little tune.

i’m so mad that when my dad woke up in the middle of the night thinking he was fucking dying because he had vertigo no one called me up to see his nystagmus. everyone knows i love vestibular disorders.

janelle monae’s the electric lady album is actually perfect. love the world building in it.

i’m so emotionally repressed that if i got cancer, the only response from loved ones that i would be able to tolerate is “cancer i hardly know her”

i use my sister’s name (leah) so infrequently that i didn’t realize i was romancing her namesake in stardew valley until fall. mind you i talk to my sister almost every day.

someone said misandry can’t have a place in feminism because straight women still need space to romantically love men. no they don’t.

my postdoc was late today because she superglued her fingers together and couldn’t figure out how to separate them.