Suppose I'll get out of bed, though I don't really feel like it.

"I somehow over proofed my dough, burnt the dark chocolate I was working on, and now not a single one of my macrons are coming out right... Is this some kind of omen? It has to be right?... right? "

Thanksgiving is going to be fun, Mother is baking her best recipes this year

I will tear her fucking limbs frƱm her bƱdy and drƱp them in frƱnt Ʊf her cheating, stupid, whƱre Ʊf a matesprite. I am gƱing tƱ burn this whƱle damn mall tƱ the grƱund. We will all burn tƱgether in a fiery matrimƱny tƱ lƱck Ʊur fates fƱrever mƱre. >It seems a coworker has hit a very specific nerve. And perhaps more than once.

"Join our imertal's anonymous meetings. Every weekend at 5. If ye've been aloive far tae long wit' no end in soight, foind relife at imertal's anonymous. Its nae joost fer true imertals. If ye'll die in a few t'ousand years come on in."

"^o Is there a rumor about me eating trolls? ^o How do I stop that? ^o I have to stop that from spreading."

Points to the box with the stray kitten he still hadn't found an owner for sitting inside next to the door to his office. The box had a sign with 'temporary assistant' taped to it that the kitten was playing with the corner of.

"I really wish this dress had pockets... been having to keep my phone in my cleavage. Pockets are great."