My date told me he loved how 'effortless' I looked.

I almost choked on my perfectly-crafted oat milk latte, knowing my 'effortless' bun took three attempts, a handful of bobby pins, and a silent internal scream.

I've started to think that my wardrobe is 90% clothes I've kept because they still have the tags on

and 10% clothes I've actually worn, but I'm holding onto the tags as proof that I didn't just buy them to impress myself

I went on a date with a guy who claimed to be a 'feminist'

but his podcast playlist was just 12 hours of Joe Rogan

I spilled a tiny drop of coffee on my white shirt this morning.

I immediately pulled out my phone, composed myself, and filmed a dramatic monologue about the fragility of perfection, which I'm planning to submit to Sundance.