Posting on social media about how I just had a big breakthrough in therapy, and nobody likes the post for nine hours.
Going on Facebook to check in with my Bitcoin-enthusiast group.
Running while wearing a backpack.
Accidentally saying, “I love you, Dad,” at the end of a conference call with my boss.
Posting status updates on LinkedIn.
Accidentally unplugging my headphones while listening to music at the office and everybody hears that I still listen to Creed.
Initiating a group text with my friends about planning a weekend trip to Texas and nobody responds.
Slow-dancing alone in my apartment to Mariah Carey’s “Always Be My Baby” as a warmup before writing poetry.
Attending an acquaintance’s improv show because I planned on later mocking him, but it turns out that Richard is actually pretty good.
Writing “your” instead of “you’re” in a reply-all e-mail.
Sending another e-mail that just says “*you’re” two seconds later.
Feeling confident that it’ll only take me three seconds to remove a distressing booger dangling from my nose, but it actually takes longer than planned and in that extra time a teen-ager records it on TikTok.
Still picking my nose in public.
Turning off airplane mode after a six-hour flight and not receiving any new notifications except for a text from my dad asking, “Do you want me to do your tax returns again?”
Posting Instagram photos of myself jumping, midair, next to the Chicago Bean, the Statue of Liberty, the St. Louis Arch, and the Astor Place Cube, even though it’s 2020.
Posting an Instagram photo of me jumping, in general. I am bad at jumping.
Sitting down on the subway without noticing that there is a pregnant woman standing right next to me.
Creating a TikTok account even though I’m almost thirty.
Buying a voodoo starter kit on Alibaba.
Pretending to understand a pop-culture reference that my co-workers made even though I don’t like my co-workers.
Ordering a garden salad while on a solo trip in Texas.
Ordering a garden salad as a meal, in general.
Projecting my computer screen during a meeting and getting a notification for an e-mail from my dad that says, “I filed your tax returns.”
Crying while watching “Police Academy: Mission to Moscow.”
Being rude to my waiter, Doug, who honestly tried his best to make sure that my garden salad contained, per my request, only a “medium-to-light volume of croutons.”
Suggesting a group hangout in Times Square without going to see a play or having family in town but, like, just wanting to hang out there for fun.
Three people wishing me a happy birthday on Facebook and one of them is Richard.
Watching porn for the story line.
