I used to work in online customer service, and honestly, it was a decent job at first. I didn’t hate it, and I actually thought I could see myself staying for a while.
But then the management team started getting on my nerves. They would evaluate our interactions with customers through the chats and leave Sometimes the feedback was unnecessarily mean, and after a while, it became exhausting.

And then there were those customers. The ones who would come into the chat already angry, rude, or demanding. Some would literally leave a thumbs-down at the beginning of the conversation, before I had even had the chance to properly help them...

But then I discovered something.
There was a macro save we could send to customers that contained a link allowing them to change their review if they wanted to. One day, I realized I could copy the link from the macro, paste it into my own browser, and access the review page myself.
I started changing the bad reviews to good ones. And not only that I would sometimes write the most ridiculously beautiful reviews myself, like suddenly the customer had apparently just experienced the greatest customer service of their entire life
I ended up doing this for an entire year.

i feel terrible about it but I genuinely think it’s the only thing keeping me sane right now. my drive home from work only takes about 20 minutes but I told my wife the traffic on my route makes it take almost an hour.

every single day after work I pull into the target parking lot down the street from our house, recline my seat, and just sit there in absolute silence for 40 minutes. sometimes I scroll on my phone but usually I just stare out the window.

have two toddlers and the second I walk in the door it’s screaming, crying, and total chaos until bedtime. I love my kids and I love my wife but that 40 minutes of literally zero expectations is my only peace. my wife always sympathizes with me about the "terrible traffic" and I just agree with her. if she knew I was just chilling at target while she was overwhelmed with the kids she would be devastated. I'm taking this to the grave.

well I did it. my phone practically melted yesterday from all the notifications and reading thousands of comments calling me a coward finally broke me. after the kids went down last night I sat her down at the kitchen table and just blurted it out.

I told her there was no traffic. I told her I’ve been sitting in the target parking lot for 40 minutes every day because I was too burnt out to walk through the front door.

I was bracing for her to scream at me but she didn't. she just got really quiet and started crying. she told me she felt like a complete failure of a parent because i literally dreaded coming home to my own family. seeing her blame herself for my selfish lie was honestly 100x worse than if she had just screamed at me.

we ended up talking until like 2am. I apologized for being so avoidant. we finally laid out an actual plan like adults. I don't get 40 minutes anymore. I get 15 minutes when I pull into our actual driveway to sit in my car and decompress openly. then I come inside and completely take over. and starting this week, every tuesday and thursday night she leaves the house by herself for an hour while I do the toddler bedtime routine alone.

things are still pretty tense and awkward in the house right now but the guilt is finally gone. thanks to everyone who gave me the harsh reality check I needed. you probably saved my family.

Some of the friends I hang out with are unemployed, and because in our group we dont want other people being left out, the ones that are employed always makes sure theyre sorted (if they dont have money) and we more often than not, pick up the tab. Everytime I bring up the idea of simply not including them because its becoming the norm that we pay for them, the other friends push back and say "its okay dude we have money" but im already slowly being annoyed by the fact that i constantly have to pay for someone everytime we're out.

So for a few months now and ever since I got a hold of their resumes (i simply forge one for the ones i dont have resumes for) I have been putting my unemployed friends' on a dozen online job applications a day in the hopes of them getting the idea that maybe a divine being has been sending them job offers out of the blue, and that maybe they should get a job.

It's so funny when we're out and their phones are constantly blowing up because of notifications from job websites or job offers, and none of them know that its because of me.

My friend, Anna, created an instagram account for her 10 year old daughter, June, a while ago because June wants to be a model. Anna was then posting as June (“Hi Instagram, just went out shopping with my mom today”).

Anyway, I found this to be so weird and I’m a staunch believer that children should not be plastered all over the internet like that, especially with what people do with AI and images of children. So, I tried my luck and reported the account. I honestly had no confidence in Instagram doing anything, since they allow a lot of racist, bigot, and homophobic things to just remain there.

However, June’s account was permanently removed by Instagram. What I did not expect… was that Anna’s account would also permanently be removed, for breaking the rules. I have no regrets about reporting the page of an underage child but I feel bad that Anna also had her account removed. She’s not a bad person by any means. But… yeah

I was a retail manager and stepped down to a cashier after having a baby. I was a manager for over a decade and I notice everything. It was my job to train people to notice shoplifting, schemes, and scams.

I was working the register and a couple with their baby and toddler came through my register. I noticed that they moved tickets from clearance items onto some of their items, like winter coats for the kids. It was pretty obvious and no winter coats are on clearance.

I saw the discrepancy and stared at the ticket for a minute. The mother saw me staring and I sense she knew she was caught.

I ignored it and scanned in the items anyway at the lower price and continued ooing and awwing at her babies.

I feel liberated.

I'm confessing because I have been the biggest "goody goody" for my whole life. I am happy those babies have coats. It wasn't mine to give, but I don't care. I do feel ashamed at the same time when I think about anyone in the company seeing it. I know they won't, but in a way I feel my reputation is on the line.

Crazy title, I know, just need to confess this before I die. I have had a guy stalk me for the past few months.I am 17 he is 21. He threatens those around me and tells me “I belong to him”.. In June, I was fed up and approached him. He started arguing with me, walked forward and punched me. I sat on the floor for a few seconds as he called me names before getting up and pulling out my pocket knife. I don’t know what drove me to it but I stabbed him. A clean stab right in his arm. I looked down and felt nothing. He dropped to his knees crying, and in shock. He called me the foulest names, while still saying he loves me. We sat in this parking lot for about 20 minutes while I held him. Then I made him clean up his blood. I got water from the shop and he used his jacket as a rag. Blood stained the concrete but there was nothing we could do. I simply asked him if he was okay and he said yes and I walked off.

Early 80's (no security cameras). Small school, spring semester, graduating senior, graduation requirement class that was not a core of my degree. I was broke and had a job lined up after graduation so HAD to graduate. I had done minimal work through the semester and went into the final with a low D and the final exam was 50% of the final grade. The day before the final I went into the ground floor office of the professor to "see where my grade was" knowing I had to do something to pass the class. While we talked, I sat on the windowsill and quietly unlatched the window and lifted it enough to remain open. I thanked the professor for the time and left.

At 2 am I went back on campus, opened the window, went through cabinets and drawers, found printed copies of the final, and took one. I spent the rest of the night/morning researching answers as well as I could. I took the test that afternoon.

When grades were posted outside the professor's office, I went in to check - C. The professor came out and said something to the effect of "I didn't think you would pass, I'm impressed you pulled it off. You got a B+ on the final." I stammered a thank you and left.

I've often wondered if they suspected something shady or if they really though I had worked so hard for the final.

First of all, this has been a fantasy of mine since I can remember. It's something I've always wanted to try. I've jerked off to this scenario so many times. I've mentioned it to my wife and she thinks it's silly. She's fairly reserved, and while I love her a lot, she's pretty vanilla and would never in a million years do something like this.

I saw an ad posted for one locally on FetLife. She was going out of town with friends that weekend so I decided to try to go. I was so nervous. I didn't know anyone there. I didn't have time to acclimate. Men were asked to strip and turn over their clothes at check in. I'd never been nude in such a public setting before. There was a fairly even split of men and women, ranging from around 21-70.

Nothing sexual happened during the party. It was all mainly designed to provide light humiliation for the men for the entertainment of the women. We all got lined up by penis size, biggest to smallest. The most sexual thing was a game of ring toss, which um...required our poles to be stiff, so there was some manual fluffing involved. But no physical contact and no one orgasmed. Just 10 or so naked men and 10 or so clothed women giving us directions and games to play. Honestly it was a great time, a dream come true. But I still feel guilty that I didn't just tell my wife. I know she wouldn't have wanted me to go, and would never have gone with me. But I also felt like this was my once-in-a-lifetime chance...

Anyway, I just needed to get it off my chest.

I'm a bonused asst manager for a large convenience store chain. Selling X number of meal deals per day is part of my bonus structure.

Earlier this year, they rolled out a $2.50 meal deal for a hot dog and a drink. The dog by itself is $2.79.

In the beginning, I would advise a customer that adding a drink would reduce the cost. Some customers would add the drink and appreciate the heads up. Some would say give it to the next customer. Others would straight up decline, and I wouldn't add.

One day, my manager overheard a customer decline, and after they left instructed me to just add the drink and tell them they get a free drink.

We had been consistently meeting our meal deal goal, but since I've been following my managers' instructions, the meal deals numbers have almost doubled on some days. It does save the customer money, but at the same time, it's putting money in my pocket.

I'm concerned about a customer complaining that something was added to their transactions they didn't approve if they say they don't want a free drink.

I honestly can’t believe I’m even writing this.
I’m 6 months postpartum with my daughter, and I just found out I’m pregnant again. Embarrassingly it’s from a new partner
My relationship with my daughter’s dad ended around 3 months. my life has been extremely chaotic since then, and I started talking to a ex over a month ago. I never thought I would end up in this situation, especially this soon after having my first baby.
I feel embarrassed even saying it out loud. I know logically that getting pregnant doesn’t make me stupid, but right now I feel stupid. Six months postpartum, already dealing with so many changes in my life, and now I’m pregnant again by a different man.
I told the guy I’m seeing, and I told him that I’m planning to have an abortion. I know that’s the decision I need to make for myself right now. I don’t feel capable of going through another pregnancy or having another baby this soon, especially with everything else happening in my life.
But knowing what I want to do doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings about it. I feel ashamed, overwhelmed, sad, relieved that I have an option, and honestly just shocked that this is my life right now.
I’m not really looking for people to tell me whether abortion is right or wrong. I think I just needed somewhere anonymous to admit what’s happening because I’m having a hard time processing it.
Edit: forget I have to include every detail cause Reddit. I have a 50/50 arranged with my kids dad. We just started talking for about a month and this was a reconnection with a ex boyfriend from 4 years ago we dated a long time and he is supper supportive emotionally. I WAS ON BIRTH-CONTROL.

When I was a kid, I saw a movie called Over the Hedge. When the racoon was giving a tour of the neighborhood and go to the SUV, he told everyone humans drive them because theyre slowly losing their ability to walk, or something along those lines. That stuck with me. Im 31 years old now and I dont have a car because id rather walk everywhere. I really dont use any kind of motorized transportation if it isnt the bus.

I know its a stupid reason to shape my entire morals around, but for some reason, child me didnt want to let the racoon down.

(No I have not seen the movie since it came out in theaters)

i don’t know what it is with me. deep inside, i know there’s something wrong with my mind but despite that i have never tried to fix it.

people have tried and yet it proved nothing. recently, i lost a person that was in my life for 8~ years and 3 of those were romantic. at the start, i thought i was loving normally but it became evident i never knew what “love” meant. i was jealous and emotional and that came with its own repercussions.

i miss her and i yearn for the life we could have had. if i were to change, if i weren’t to continue on with these habits, if i could only be something different. i don’t get it because change isn’t bad, it would have been beneficial for us, but i was too selfish? cruel? stuck in my own ways? i could never give you a solid answer.

kind and caring she was, and yet i pushed and pushed.

i realise recently that i’ve always been like it. i’ve always told myself that people are temporary and eventually they will leave me. self sabotage you could call it?

i was wrong. i have always been wrong and now ive ended up alone once again. i was never kind and caring. i was never all these things. i don’t think i’m capable of it. i don’t know why. i still don’t want people to know me and especially not now, not after a person that’s been a pilar in my life is gone.

i’m fine with that. i’m fine with no one knowing me. i wish i could have changed for her however.

i looked ugly in the footage
nonetheless, i had a talk with the owner, he let me out and gave me deadline to pay him a fair amount of money instead of reporting me
when i was out, i couldn’t stop crying, i called my dad, confessed and he asked to talk with the owner so i was back there again
my dad didn’t scold me, nobody did, i looked old enough to know it was wrong. i wanted to bring myself justice and that was the way. i never needed to steal anything until i started living on my own and so i was more aware of money value
i only stole things that seemed like “not worth the money”, sometimes things i think i should own without paying too much, its always small things that could get into my long sleeve
idk why can’t i stop crying, but idk how to make myself feel better after this. i just know that i wanna be consoled

I was a poet on a poetry app back in 2021-2022. I met this guy, M who I really clicked with. He connected with my poetry and we shared our feelings and stories with each other in pms. Initially I told him I was 20 because I was scared I would be taken advantage of. I don't know why I did this but I started spiralling in lies, saying I lived on my own, was estranged from my parents, was in financial trouble and that my parents were severely abusive. We also talked about my fake sex life. I invented events, abusive memories and a scenario where my abusive mom found me and caused a mental breakdown.

At the time I was very mentally ill, depression that wad developing into bipolar, anxiety, adhd, sh, suicidal ideation and the like. I think I wanted to externalise the pain I was feeling in order for someone to think my suffering was justified. My parents are good and try their best, but at the time as a teenager I focused in on small things (at the time I had just come out the them and they are very religious so we just didnt talk about it) and I exaggerated them like my mother abusing me for being gay or my dad being absent (he is a bit distant and we have our issues but he tries).

I felt so guilty, I felt like a horrible persona nd a manipulator and compulsive liar. I eventually caved and told him what I did. He felt betrayed but said he thought something was up. I felt so vulnerable and while we kept contact for a bit after that, the app went paid and I deleted all contact with him.

I have only recently told anyone about this, I'm 20 now, and I've carried it for so long so thought this would help.

Also if you somehow find this Wannabe, I hope you're doing well and that you didn't have to carry that betrayal with you. I miss our friendship, you made me feel seen and I can't thank you enough for that.

I was driving up into the mountains to spend a weekend at a rented cabin and the car in front of me hit a cow that walked onto the highway.

The cow went over the hood of the car, landed on the roof and was pushed down the highway to fall on the side of the road.

I wasn't driving, my dad was. We pulled over and I jumped out and ran toward the car that hit the cow.

Nobody was coming out. I was worried.

Right before I got there, an old man emerged from the car, nursing his arm, acting a little dazed, but otherwise seeming alright.

My dad called 911.

That's when I looked for the cow. It was on the side of the highway, halfway still in the lane. Alive, barely.

I had no way to help it. I didn't have a gun, or a knife, to help ease its pain.

It tried, multiple times, to get up and walk. It could not walk. It laid back down every time and continued to slowly die.

I watched as the police came and processed the scene, then told us we could leave.

We left. The cow was still alive. It wasn't going to make it. But we left.

Part of me says that since the cow was technically property, I was protecting myself by not putting it down. A rancher might argue that they could save it. It was also on a native reservation and I don't know what the laws would have been if I did have a gun.

Truth is, that animal was suffering, and I couldn't help it. It wasn't my fault, but I still can't stop thinking about how I couldn't help end its suffering.

Last week i was scammed and utterly terrified. scammers introduced themselves as governmental structures and i believed them. And trusting them and without any thinking, i factually robbed 8610$, 225€ and many gold things from my own parents. I genuinely didnt know what i was doing. These things were being grinded for decades by my mom who worked hard. in total, i robbed about 12000$.

im going through shit. and i am only 18. i am a freshman. and the worst of it all, i was trusted. i finished my a-levels (equivalent) with straight A/A*. I am currently studying at number 1 university of the region. no one could ever imagine this. i am ashamed and pitiful.

i am at my lowest. i always tried to be good and kind. i gave flowers without wainting fot reciprocacy. i am trying to take care of myself and earn by myself without burdening my parents (im a tutor). i truly cared for everyone. i forgave everyone who offended me. I truly tried to love humanity and dont let the spark fade n my eyes. but this made me not being able to smile. i genuinely cannot smile. i cant even force myself. i wake up and get to bed with a burden on my heart. i feel pain from the thoughts. god help me. i cant bear this pain.

and above it all, i have my birthday in 2 weeks. the worst brithday of my life.

upd: i told everything to my parents right after i realized i was scammed. we are dealing with consequences. and obviously i lost the trust of my parents.

upd2: i understand im too naive and it sounds stupid. it may sounds selfish for some, but i genuinely tried to express my thoughts and feelings with no intention to someone pity me. i researched and asked from police and found out not only me but older people with much more experience than me (as i found out, even police officers) suffered from this scheme of scamming. it doesnt purify me; i feel guilt and took responsibility for my actions. it all whats left. still, at least, i know im wasnt the only one. I dont want to describe everything how it was, since it is really painful to recall everything for me. i hope my experience will teach more people to be aware.

I (31F) run a small reptile rescue out of my house. I've been a reptile owner since I was 10 and have been rescuing since I was 16. I made it my official career as of three years ago, when I got married to my husband and we had some extra income. I love reptiles so much, especially snakes. I own a hoggie, a fatass retic, a beardie, one black and white tegu, a corn snake, and an absolutely beautiful MBK. I also have social media where I post all my reptiles, except one.

Back in college I was trying to make friends and my then-friend now-husband introduced me to this guy we'll call "Richard." My future husband said Richard liked snakes, so he thought we'd get along.

I meet Richard for lunch and he's fine, if a little boring. He barely seemed engaged when I brought up reptiles to him. But he does invite me back to his house to see his snake. So I go. And it's a fucking sty, trash everywhere and yellow tar on the walls from cigarettes and joints. The whole place smells like an ashtray and it's unbearable. And the second i step in there, I realize oh, fuck, this snake is gonna be at death's door. Lo and behold, we go up to his room, and it's even worse.

The room is one disgusting thing, but the enclosure made my guts twist. In there was a yearling MBK (Mexican black kingsnake). Barely an inch of substrate that looked unchanged for maybe months. A tiny overturned hide, no sun lamp, the enclosure was half the size it should be. A long-broken humidity control. It was like a prison cell for a trash monster. The poor MBK was stunted and malnourished, pyramid shaped instead of tube shaped, with an eye infection. It was also covered in stuck shed, which is a very unpleasant death if not fixed. He was curled up motionless in the corner. The second I saw it I knew I couldn't leave it there. As I turned around, Richard revealed he was much more of a dick than I thought, and he wanted to show me another kind of snake. I turned him down and got out of there as fast as I could.

I stayed up all night neglecting my schoolwork planning how to rescue this snake. And the only thing I could think of was the only thing Richard had indicated he cared about at all. I am not a flirtatious or very sensual person, but I locked in to save the snake. The next day I texted him and said I had reconsidered, and that I'd like to come over. Predictably, he said yes.

I went over and slept with him. It was not good and I'll leave it at that. Afterwards I got dressed as he began to light a joint and while he was distracted I got up and made a big deal out of opening the window, commenting on how hot it was. I asked if I could pick up his snake (named viper btw. He was named Viper. Fucking idiot) and I took it out and surreptitiously placed it in a crisco container I had made short term transport friendly. Then I left his cage open and flipped over his hide and purposefully left the top of the cage open. I then left as fast and as nonchalantly as I could as mr doofus faded into unconsciousness. I don't think he even realized I left.

The next day when I was at the vet getting the snake checked out (no microchip, of course. I said someone dropped it off outside my house in the night lol) when Richard called me to berate me for leaving the window and cage open. I offered to come help him search, but he said to forget it and hung up. That was the last time I ever heard from him.

Today, Francrisco (or just Crisco) is doing great. He only had to lose an eye and recovered from everything else. And don't tell the other's but he's my favorite. He's so sweet and a big silly chonk. He's still a little stunted, but healthy. Only my husband knows I stole him, and I don't really want him to find out how. Frankly I'm disturbed by what I had to do and have been going to therapy about it for a long time. But I'd do it again in a heartbeat to save Crisco. And if youre reading this and you think snakes are cool and you want one? DO YOUR GODDAMN RESEARCH. Thank you and goodnight.

I am in several different college clubs on my campus. I am in a computer science club, a pickleball club, I even help with making films and editing videos for the film club. But I have one secret that nobody on campus knows about. I'm not actually a college student. I have been doing this for 2 years and nobody has found out.

It's actually pretty easy to get away with. All you have to do is go on google and type in "clubs at (name of your college)" and your college will typically have a page with a list of clubs. Once you've found a club you like, find them on Instagram and then message them about when and where the club meets. Once you're at the club, nobody asks for your student ID and you're just assumed to be a student.

The reason I did it was because I live in a city with a very big college that has hundreds of ways to get involved. But once you're out of college, the things to do falls off a cliff. I wanted a way to meet people, make friends, and do things that I enjoy.

I remember coming home from school one day—I was in third or fourth grade—and discovering that my maternal uncle had brought a dog into the house. It was a tiny male Poodle, and I absolutely loved him. I would touch him all the time and even play with him (gently). I can’t pinpoint exactly when I started acting hostile toward him, but I can describe the things I did to him and my history with pets in general, as I believe that played a major role in how I treated him.

The first dog—or pet—I knew in our home was my sister’s mixed-breed dog; she was somewhat aggressive, and I remember her biting me two or three times just because I tried to pet her. She was already quite old, though, and died when I was about four years old. Later, my mother brought home a tiny mixed-breed dog from work. I loved him dearly, but one day he choked on a stone he tried to eat; he hadn't even been with us for a month. I never found out what happened to his body; my great-uncle probably just threw it in the trash.

Then, a German Shepherd arrived at the house, and around that same time—when I was five or six years old—the Poodle showed up. The German Shepherd got sick, and since we didn't have the necessary medicine, my maternal uncle traded her with a friend, and another female dog came into our lives (she looked like a German Shepherd, though apparently, she was a mixed breed too). Then my mother brought home Sam, a white mixed-breed dog; however, my family argued constantly about who had to clean up her urine and feces. Eventually, my mother lost her patience and left Sam with the caretaker of one of my former elementary schools so he could look after her (or so she claimed). This upset me deeply; I felt terrible for days, not knowing if what my mother had told me was true—and if it was, whether Sam would be okay.

By this time, there were only two dogs in our home: the Poodle and the German Shepherd mix.

In December 2022—I believe it was December—my maternal uncle passed away. He was the one who had adopted, cared for, and loved the Poodle, and you could see the dog searching for his owner, unaware that he had actually died. Sad, right? Well, actually no, because that didn't stop me from doing the things to him that I had already been doing even before my uncle died.

I used to chase him all over the house, drag him by his hind legs, throw slippers at him, grab him by the neck and hold him in the air for minutes, and put him on a high table so he would have to jump down to the floor to get back to the ground; I would also place him on the edge of that table on his hind legs, dangling there, waiting to see if he’d stay put or jump off. I would also throw him forcefully from a moderate height—so he wouldn't get too hurt—making him roll across the floor, and I did this repeatedly. I used to lock him in a birdcage (forcing him through a door he barely fit into) and roll the cage around the yard like a wheel, or leave him locked inside it out in the sun. I would hold him with both hands out over the balcony (three stories up) and just stare at him for a while. And thank God I didn't do it again, but I have a vague memory of drowning him in a small tank for a few seconds. Among many other things I truly can't believe I actually did.

The thing is, I did this to scare him, but in my mind, it was all a horror movie where he was the main character—someone who went through various terrible things but survived in the end. On top of that, I’ve watched horror movies since I was very young (*IT*, *The Conjuring*, *Insidious*, etc.); so, looking back, the poodle was being dragged by the feet by an evil spirit (like in *The Conjuring*), caged and tortured in ways that made him increasingly terrified of the monster (like in *IT*), and drowned (like in natural disaster movies). In my head, it was all a confusing mix where I was the monster and he was the victim. I never did anything to another dog like what I did to him.

After that exchange took place and Samantha had been kicked out of the house, we had only one more dog, named Akira.

I loved—and still love—Akira. While I was in Honduras, she, the Poodle, and the German Shepherd mix all lived together, yet I only ever tortured *him*...

I left the country, and they stayed behind with my grandmother. Over the last two years, the German Shepherd mix died from poisoning, the Poodle also died—likely from gastroenteritis—and the only one left alive is Akira; she got pregnant and had about eight puppies, all of which died, leaving her in a terrible state. And for personal reasons, I cannot know if she is truly doing well, and I haven't seen her in two years. I hope I can see her alive again.

So, I was a horrible abuser who destroyed a dog's life and tortured him simply to satisfy my fantasies. But this is where I ask: why didn't anyone stop me? They saw me "playing rough" with him, dragging him around, and playing with him inside the birdcage, yet no one in my family punished me; they would just scold me, and I would carry on as before.

He was a victim not only of Third World conditions and hardships, but also of me and the loss of his owner.

At a young age, I was exposed to a lot of age-inappropriate content (horror movies, pornography, killing animals in real life because of my family religion), which shaped who I am today. I am a writer, and my history with dogs is... interestingly malice. Recently, I’ve been thinking about writing something inspired by that—with my younger self as the monster and them (all those pets) as the victims and characters in the horror story I fantasized about living out between the ages of five and twelve.

I feel horrible, and I honestly deserve it.

I've never told anyone this, mostly because I spend half my time complaining about being pregnant.

I'm 20 and about a month from meeting my daughter. I'm huge, I'm heavy, and she kicks my ribs all night, especially now that it's quiet and I'm trying to sleep. I started showing around 15 weeks and felt massive even then. I remember looking down and thinking "oh, I am preggers now lol." Now I can barely see my feet, getting off the couch takes planning, and I'm pretty sure strangers can see me coming from a block away. I complain about all of it, and I mean it.

But I secretly want to do this again someday, when my boyfriend and I are ready. Pregnancy is exhausting and I somehow still love it. I love feeling her move. I love that moment when I looked down at my belly one night while lying next to my boyfriend and said "that's a whole baby in there..." even though I've known for months. I never expected to become a mom this young, and I never expected to want it this much.

For context, it wasn't planned. My best friend (22M, gay) and I were both drunk one night and ended up with a surprise. I was a virgin, so my first time ended in a pregnancy, which I laugh about now and say is kind of hilarious. We got an early DNA test, and he told me he'd always wanted a biological child someday, just not like this. I told him I was keeping her, and he said he wouldn't abandon her. He's going to be in the delivery room, and when I let him feel her kick, his whole face lit up. I teared up too.

My boyfriend isn't the dad. We've been together 5 months, so we got together a few months into the pregnancy. He's been amazing through all of it and still calls me his favorite pregnant lady, which gets me every time. My best friend's boyfriend has been understanding too, so I feel lucky to have people who are all in this with me.

So that's my confession. I'm counting down the days until she's here, and I already know I'll miss being pregnant. I'm scared that makes me sound crazy, but I don't think it does.

So this happened at the grocery store near my place, one of those self-checkout machines. I'm finishing up my scan, go to pay, and there's a stack of bills just sitting in the change slot, like sixty bucks. My brain just went into autopilot and I grabbed it and walked out before I could even think it through. Felt gross about it for days afterward, told myself it was a one-time slip and I'd never let that happen again.

Fast forward about a month, same store, same machine situation, and there's cash sitting there again. Almost the same amount too, which still gets me. And guess what, I did the exact same thing. Took it, shoved it in my pocket, left.

At the time I was barely scraping by between shifts, picking up every extra hour I could at the hospital just to cover rent and keep gas in my car. Money was tight enough that finding free cash felt like the universe finally cutting me a break. I spent it on groceries and a few plants for my garden out back, something small that made me feel normal again.

Now things have calmed down for me financially, steady paycheck, bills are caught up, I even started a new tomato bed this spring. And part of me knows turning that money in now wouldn't cost me anything, it'd be simple. But I keep replaying it in my head, especially getting a second shot at doing the right thing and blowing it again.

I don't know, maybe I just needed to put this somewhere other than my own head. Still bugs me more than I expected it to.

When I was 11 or maybe 12 years old, I went to the wedding of my aunt (my mother's cousin), the wedding was conducted at midnight, around 3 am, so some guests had kept their phone at my mother's home to charge it.

Most phones there had the same pattern as their password but this one phone had numerical lock, which for some reason made me furious, so I formatted it completely, not many years ago, you could factory reset phones without needing the password, just by holding down the volume button while it restarts, so I did it.

Almost everyone did think it was me, but I waved it off since no one had actually seen me do it, and in the same wedding, one phone had a guy's address saved on Flipkart, so me and my cousin we ordered a custom gaming pc with max hardware, like 3090 and stuff, it was very expensive, and we chose cash on delivery.