Hey, do you know that feeling of hitching up a long skirt so you don’t fall on your face when walking upstairs, and then you immediately become a wretched yet resolute Jane Austen character? It’s a universal thing, right?
More you might like
It’s like resting a laundry basket against your hip and suddenly you’re a long-suffering peasant woman, wondering if you’ll survive the winter.
a shawl wrapped around the shoulders and you’re wandering the moors in a Brönte novel, feeling melancholic
Looking out the window at the rain and you’re a love-stricken newlywed wondering when your husband will return from the war.
Long skirt billowing behind you while to go down the stairs, you’re a proper Lady in a flowing ball gown being introduced at a fancy social function.
Hair blowing in the wind and suddenly you’re hovering on a cliff by the sea, staring out into the waves and praying your merchant husband will return from his voyage across the ocean
Hood up against the rain and wind and you’re a medieval abbess defying the weather and travelling on foot with your people to find a place to establish a new community.
Wiping your hands on your apron and you’re an 18th century kitchen girl rushing to let in the delivery boy you secretly love.
The cool fall wind catches your skirt, sends leaves swirling around your feet, and catches your hair and sends it flying behind you, and suddenly you’re a enchantress roaming the woods, daring any man to challenge your power.
in 3rd grade I broke my arm trying to impress my crush by beating him in a roller skating contest because that’s how crushes work
my cast was red and I couldn’t use a pencil for 3 months but the important thing is I won, i was the victor
also I once flirted with an attractive doctor while having my eyebrow stitched up and I got her to laugh, so yes I am that chaotic bi bitch
i’ve had both my eyebrows stitched come to think of it. separate incidents
gaud what life do you live
i drink a lot
so you’re saying you drank a lot in third grade and broke your arm
no but i did eat too much cake
When I was a very small child, my mom used to bury coins in my sandbox, leave huge boot prints in the sand, and tell me pirates had come in the night and buried treasure. I would be out there happily for hours, with my little sieve, and my mom got a quiet morning to herself for the price of a handful of pennies.
I was always kind of skeptical about Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy, because visiting every kid in the world did not seem reasonable. But the pirates only visited me, so they were probably real.
So that’s the story of how I ended up being an archaeologist. How about you?
*hits the bong* ya know……i used to be a smart kid . i was so f ucking smart man. i can’t even read anymore dude
other countries on their independence day: ahh i can’t wait for all the fireworks to celebrate our country <3333
finland on independence day: i can’t wait to watch a 3h long warfilm and people shaking hands for 4h
