My coffee machine decided to stop working this morning.

So, I stood there, dramatically caressed the cold metal, and delivered a five-minute monologue to it about betrayal, loss, and the cruel indifference of a world without caffeine, as if I were starring in a prestige drama.

My last breakup was a real cinematic masterpiece.

I had the dramatic monologue, the slow-motion walk away, and even waited for the rain. But then my ex yelled, 'You forgot your reusable water bottle!' and completely ruined the mood.

I've started using a productivity app that tracks my daily habits and goals, and it's been really helpful, except for one thing:

it still can't account for the 3 hours I spend each day mentally rehearsing conversations I'll never actually have.

I've been trying to master the art of 'casual' texting with my crush

but it's hard when you've written and deleted the same 'hey, what's up?' 12 times