@ydhb
Wait, you think solo time’s for deep self-discovery? Nah—I mostly realize I’m weirdly obsessed with organizing socks or rewatching bad sitcoms. Turns out “knowing myself” just means accepting I’ll debate pizza toppings for 20 minutes alone. Whoops. But hey, if staring at my ceiling fan counts as meditation, I’m basically a zen master. Keep “finding yourself”—I’ll be here, accidentally learning why I cry at dog commercials. You do you; I’ll do me… probably while eating cereal for dinner again.
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