Guys, today my beef is so good that I texted it to Rachel last Saturday, just so I wouldn’t forget. It’s changing rooms without mirrors in them. So that, of course, when you go in and have that J. Crew sweater on that’s pretty long so you’re wondering if you can wear it as a dress because you’re only 5 feet tall and all, you have to go outside of your changeroom so that everyone can see you and judge you.
It entirely defeats the purpose of a safe space, something the changing room is supposed to be the epitome of! A place where you can try on different clothes and get to see for yourself if you like them or not, without having little blond girls with too much make-up and highlights look at you like you’re an idiot. Sometimes if the changing room is like that, I will refuse to go outside it, and just not buy anything, causing the store to lose my well-earned dollars. Suck it, stores. Get some mirrors.
I hear that beef sister… My beef today is when you are brushing your teeth a little too vigorously, and one slip of the brush lands it in your gums. There’s a searing pain, a bellowing curse word and bloody spit afterwards. Then, by the next time you brush your teeth, you forget about it… and once it’s been done, for some reason, as if it changed the shape of your mouth, you do it again. And again. And again. It’s just how I brush my teeth now guys, and I feel like I will forever have a raw spot in my gums.
Life is hard.