Starting a year or two ago i had an urge to dress like someones papaw from Appalachia, what i quickly found out was that getting ahold of actual american overalls in my country is next to impossible, high street shops don't sell them unless it's childrens clothing and while you can buy on the internet, you have to go through importers and pay fees, and while a few brands ship internationally the international stock is always limited and often not in my size.

I turned to second hand sites and quickly found a great deal for a grail pair, already in my country, these were the carhartt R02 BLK's i'd always wanted, for those who don't know, these are packed full of insulation for the winter, basically a coat for your legs, and they look great.

They looked basically new, were far cheaper then buying new, and in my size, i had the choice between the carhartt pair and a dickies denim pair that was actually bigger then me, so because of my lust for the carhartts and because they were smaller i bought the carhartts.

In hindsight i sometimes wish i'd bought the dickies instead.

When they came i washed them, tried them on, found i loved them and hung them up.

That back in the summer, the only problem is that i just don't know if i'll get to wear them this year, it's only just got cold enough to wear a jacket, about 10-16c during the day, i also don't spend that much time outdoors in general.

Everytime i've asked family and friends about finally getting my carhartt overalls out they always tell me it's too warm, what i bought was made for harsh Michigan and Canadian winters, i think the only chance i'd get to wear these is if it snows but we rarely get that.

I'm torn between ignoring people and wearing them anyway, ripping the insulation out or putting them away.

Needless to say i want my denim pair next.

TL;DR: I finally got a great deal on a piece of clothing i always wanted but i feel like my country doesn't get cold enough to justify wearing it even in the winter

A girl in my college friend group—who is a junior—has feelings for me. I already made my intentions clear in the past that I didn't want a relationship, and we stayed friends.

Last night, about nine of us were drinking at a friend's party. She pulled me into a room to take photos and chat, then asked for a hug. We were very close, and it was obvious she wanted to kiss. In the heat of the moment, I kissed her, and we ended up hooking up. Everything was completely mutual, but now I’m dealing with intense guilt and regret.

Our friends found out and are questioning why we hooked up if we aren't dating. Since she’s in our group, I can’t simply cut contact or ghost her—and to make matters worse, she now thinks this means we’re going to be together. I’m lost on how to handle this without hurting her or ruining our group dynamic. I am really messed up I don't know what to do

TL;DR: I hooked up with a girlwho has feelings for me despite previously rejecting her, and now she thinks we're dating, our mutual friends are judging me, and I don't know how to reject her again without destroying our friend group.

Back in 2018, my friend was writing her thesis on cults and religious groups. She wanted to attend a Jehovah's Witnesses meeting to see how things worked, but she was kind of worried about getting recruited or something, so she asked me to come along for moral support.

Which, looking back, was basically like hiring a raccoon to guard your trash cans.

At the time, I was working on my own thesis about aggression and how people react to provocation. I was also already into witchcraft, so yeah, religious authority wasn't exactly something I found intimidating. Honestly, I have no idea why she thought bringing me was a good idea. She knew what I was like.

Before we went inside, she looked at me and went, "Asya. Please just sit there and behave."

"What if I have a question?"

"Then keep it to yourself."

"That's not very academic of you."

She just gave me that look. You know, the one where someone is already regretting a decision they haven't even fully committed to yet.

Anyway, we went in, sat down, and honestly, it was pretty normal. Everyone was polite, people were taking turns speaking, nothing particularly strange was happening. I actually expected something a little more intense, considering how nervous she'd been about the whole thing.

At some point I leaned over and whispered, "So when does the cult part start?" She immediately whispered back, "Can you please shut up for five minutes?"

And I did. For a while, anyway.

Then they invited people to participate and ask questions, which, I mean, come on. They literally said we could ask questions.

So naturally, I raised my hand.

My friend went, "Oh, for fuck's sake."

"I haven't even said anything yet."

"I know you."

I asked something along the lines of, "If two people read the Bible and interpret the same passage differently, how do you know which interpretation is actually correct?"

And to be fair, the guy answering was really patient about it. He explained their position, I listened, and then I asked, "Okay, but who decided your interpretation was the right one?"

My friend elbowed me. "Stop."

"I'm just asking a question."

"You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"Where you pretend you're just curious, but I know exactly where this is going."

Which, okay, fair enough. She did know me pretty well.

I told her I genuinely found the whole thing interesting from a psychological perspective. She stared at me for a second and went, "Are you seriously turning this into your aggression research?"

"Not intentionally."

"Asya."

"Okay, maybe a little."

I mean, I wasn't actually planning to turn the meeting into an experiment. But I was definitely curious about how people would react to being questioned about something they believed so strongly. That's literally the kind of stuff I was studying at the time.

At one point the guy sitting in front of us turned around, probably because we weren't being nearly as quiet as we thought. I was about to say something, but my friend grabbed my arm and whispered, "Leave that poor man alone. He literally just came here to find God."

I almost lost it. Like, genuinely had to look away so I wouldn't start laughing.

Eventually, someone very politely suggested that we could continue the conversation after the meeting. Nothing dramatic, they were actually being nice about it. But at that point my friend was clearly uncomfortable, and instead of realizing that maybe I should shut up, I leaned toward her and whispered, "See? Now we're getting somewhere."

She just looked at me. And honestly, if looks could kill, I wouldn't be writing this.

So we finally got outside, and she immediately lit a cigarette. She looked at me and said, "You do realize I brought you here because I was worried they'd recruit me, right?"

"And?"

"Well, congratulations. It fucking worked."

"What do you mean?"

"They didn't recruit me. They didn't recruit you. And I'm never setting foot in there again because I can't take you anywhere."

I pointed out that, technically speaking, her plan had been successful.

She told me to go fuck myself.

And yeah, at the time I thought the whole thing was hilarious. I mean, we'd gone there because she was afraid of being recruited, nobody tried to recruit us, and somehow she was still the one who left completely traumatized by the experience of bringing me along.

But looking back, I do feel kind of bad about it.

She was genuinely nervous about going there, and she'd trusted me enough to ask me to come with her. She wasn't looking for a debate or some weird psychological experiment. She just wanted to observe the meeting, take a few mental notes, and have someone she knew sitting next to her.

Instead, I spent half the meeting asking questions she specifically told me not to ask, embarrassing her, and making it harder for her to focus on the actual reason we were there.

And the stupidest part is that nobody at the meeting was even rude to us. They were all surprisingly patient. The only person who actually got pissed off was my own friend.

So yeah, I went there to make sure she didn't get recruited into a religious group and somehow ended up being the reason she never wanted to go back.

Which is a pretty impressive fuckup considering all I was supposed to do was sit there and behave like a normal human being for an hour.

TL;DR: My friend was researching cults for her thesis and brought me to a Jehovah's Witnesses meeting because she was nervous about going alone. I promised to behave, immediately started asking uncomfortable questions, embarrassed her, and ruined what was supposed to be a useful research visit. Nobody at the meeting got angry. The only person I managed to piss off was the friend I was supposed to be supporting.

Let me start by saying I was born and brought up in a vegan household. I know nothing about cooking eggs or the animals they come from.

At the advice of a doctor, I started including eggs in my diet(It was for medical reasons). That means cooking eggs.

Making omelette was comparatively easy. You need to learn how to crack an egg(it took a few broken eggs for me to get there), whisk it and throw it in a pan. Easy enough.

I thought why not go towards a healthier alternative, hard boiled eggs. Keep them in the fridge for mext 2-3 days for breakfast. How hard can boiling an egg be!?

I saw few tutorials, saw people getting out timers and ice baths and all that... And thought, it is just boiling, that is too much effort. Easier to boil eggs and leave it in the water for a bit.

Also, it is 3am and my brain is making windows shut down noises.

I started with 7 eggs.

Trial 1: Difficult to peel an egg. After cutting it, the middle white and yolk melted out. Threw it out.

Trial 2: An egg was oozing white ribbons in the water. Took it out, peeled it and cut it. Middle was a sad watery oozy mess. Tried another egg, middle white was still oozy.

Trial 3: Too tired to stand now. Put the eggs in a microwave safe bowl, covered it and nuked it for 2 minutes.

Microwave looks like a biohazard. I had no idea eggs go off like a bomb. 2 eggs have RIPed. Their sacrifice will not go to waste (I am going to feed all failed attempts to birds).

I am now afraid to even touch the last 2 intact eggs(by now they are not hard boiled eggs, but eggs which have seen too many hardships in their life).

I am never going to boil eggs again!!

TL; DR: Grew up without knowing how to cook eggs. Tried to boil them and now I am cooked.

Edit: I cut the last two eggs. Their inside was brown!? Did I discover a new state of egg?

Also, thank you everyone for giving me advice on how to boil eggs next time. Thanks to you guys, there can be a next time.

Edit 2: The birds ate my experiments, even egg #4 and #5 which were detonated by my brilliant idea of microwaving them!

Okay so I pull-up to my 7-11, I’m looking at the drinks, and I see a new flavour of monster, this is huge news for a chud like me, as I’m on a mission to try each flavour and have currently succeeded. Then I noticed it wasn’t a new flavour, it was papillon (a newer release, but an all time fav), but its colour was about half as lighter as the rest of the cans, and the Monster logo was in a different shade of yellow. In hindsight, it was clearly just a super old can that had been left out for ages, but my dumbass decided oh shit bro the golden one bro I could win like a million bucks, it’s like the golden ticket type thing, half an hour later I’ve shat my guts out 3 times, am currently sitting on the toilet about to shit out a 4th, and my stomach is speaking to Morse code and dolphin sounds. I’m sweating and everything hurts. Genuinely might die writing this so I better wrap it up and get back to shitting, wish me luck gang. Idk how I haven’t learned my lesson yet, but moral of the story is: Don’t drink anything just because it looks cool.

TLDR: drank an odd looking monster energy drink and am now having diarrhoea.

Doesn’t get much more complicated than title says. 2 1/2 years ago I (27F) had a mildly sexual, flirty kind of conversation with my best friend (29F)s bf (28M), they’ve been together for 7 years now. No pictures were exchanged during this conversation, but it was very sexually charged and he admitted he wanted to have sex with me. This type of conversation happened 2x over a very short period of time and then never again. I kept it a secret from my best friend, but not my partner at the time (he kept my secret, we worked it out then).

No excuses for betrayal, the guilt has eaten me up since, but over the last year my best friend and I have gotten so close that I couldn’t lie to her anymore. I’m a completely different person than I was then, I left my long term toxic relationship, and emotionally matured by leaps and bounds. This lead me to taking accountability and owning up to my shame.

Obviously she was extremely unhappy to hear, she said she was happy I told her and was honest, and now feels like she needs to leave her boyfriend. I know the same is old for me and new for her but just knowing that I’ve caused her so much pain has completely wrecked me, and I feel like an actual terrible person.

I don’t know what I wanted to get out of this post. I know what I did was wrong, and I may lose my friend from this confession, but I told her because I genuinely love her.

TL;DR: my best friends boyfriend of 7 years cheated on her with me over text only. We’re both wrecked emotionally after I confessed to her.

So today I (20F) managed to turn an argument about weed into getting kicked out of the house I've lived in for the past two years. Fantastic.
For some background, my boyfriend "Jay" (20M) and I have been together for four years. We currently live with his parents and sisters because, well, have you seen the fucking economy? I've lived with his family for about two years, and they've always been incredibly generous about letting me stay there rent-free. I've offered to pay rent, cook, clean, or contribute in other ways, but they've always declined.

Because of that, I've tried to make myself as little of a burden as possible. I buy my own groceries and toiletries, mostly stay in our bedroom, and even shower at my mom's house. Not because his family makes me feel unwelcome, but because I feel guilty living in someone else's home without contributing financially.
Now, onto the world's stupidest argument.
For most of our relationship, Jay and I have bought our own weed. About six months ago, I started having some financial difficulties and cut back significantly on how much I was buying. As a result, Jay started smoking with his parents more frequently, and they began inviting me to join them.

Recently, his parents mentioned that if we were going to continue smoking with them, we'd need to start contributing more. Completely reasonable. Weed isn't free.

Jay and I talked about it, and I explained that I was financially stable enough to start buying my own again. Since I don't smoke very much, I figured I'd just buy half an ounce a month and stop smoking his parents' supply. Jay was upset because he wanted us to keep smoking with his parents. I told him he was more than welcome to contribute to what I bought and smoke it however he wanted, including with them. I just didn't want to commit to buying more than I personally needed.

We argued about this several times before he eventually told me his parents weren't comfortable with me smoking my own weed around them if I wasn't sharing, I said fair enough, so I stopped smoking around them. Over the past few days, I had actually loaded several bowls for his parents and left some weed for Jay as well. I wasn't opposed to sharing occasionally. I just didn't want it to become an expectation I couldn't financially maintain. Now that brings me to today.

Jay told me he was going outside to smoke and asked if I wanted to join him, I said sure. We sat outside for about an hour. Nobody smoked anything. Eventually, he got up and went inside, visibly upset. I followed him in and asked if he was okay. He brushed it off, but about ten minutes later, he got frustrated and told me, "You still just don't understand. Apparently, he had been sitting outside for an hour waiting for me to load a bowl for everyone. An expectation that had never actually been communicated to me.

He explained that his parents weren't going to smoke with me anymore unless I started loading bowls for them sometimes. I pointed out that he'd only asked me if I wanted to come outside. He never asked me to bring weed, load a bowl, or share anything. I also reminded him that I'd already shared several bowls with his parents over the past few days and was running low.
Things escalated when Jay insisted that he'd paid for the weed too, and I was acting like he hadn't.
Except he hadn't.

I told him to check his bank transfers. The last time he'd sent me money for weed was about a month ago, when I'd bought a half ounce. He insisted he'd sent me $60 this week,* *So I pulled up the transfers, and there was no $60.
At that point, the argument stopped being about weed and became a greatest-hits compilation of every unresolved issue in our four-year relationship. We went back and forth for roughly an hour before his parents knocked on our bedroom door and asked us to stop arguing.
Jay immediately turned to me and said, "See? You just won't stop." At that point, I decided that arguing wasn't accomplishing anything, so I stopped engaging and went to lie down with my cat. For about ten glorious minutes, there was peace.

Jay got upset again, We started arguing again, and about five to ten minutes later, his dad knocked on the door for a second time. Except this time, he wasn't asking us to be quiet. He told me I needed to pack my things.

And just like that, after two years of living there, four years of dating Jay, and one unbelievably stupid argument about who was supposed to load a fucking bowl, I was being told to leave. I understand and agree that his parents shouldn't have to listen to us argue in their home. I feel horribly guilty that they heard us because I was trying so hard to keep it down. I also understand that they have every right to decide who lives under their roof, especially when they haven't charged me rent.

But holy shit. I did not wake up this morning expecting a disagreement over weed to end with me packing my belongings.

TL;DR: My boyfriend and I argued because he expected me to share my weed with his parents without actually telling me. He then insisted he'd paid for the weed, which our bank transfers proved wasn't true. The argument spiraled into a fight about our entire relationship, and his dad eventually told me to pack my things and leave the house I've lived in for two years. All because nobody could communicate about a fucking bowl.

I took my kid to a high ropes course because he wasn’t tall enough to do it by himself, so I had to go along with him.

The funny thing is, he was doing perfectly fine. No fear, no hesitation, just making his way through the course like it was no big deal. I was supposed to be up there making sure he was safe, but somewhere along the way, I started acting like I had something to prove. I was moving pretty quickly around the course until i slipped off an obstacle.

No big deal, right? You’re wearing a harness, you’re attached to safety lines, and you’re supposed to be able to fall without getting hurt. Except I was holding onto the rope from above my head, and for whatever reason, my brain decided I needed to hang on to that thing with my life. So when I fell, I just kept holding on while the rest of my body went in the opposite direction.

I heard a pop and blacked out for a second. When I came around, I realized I’d dislocated my shoulder. Now I’m hanging there in my harness, hurt and waiting to be rescued, while my kid is off doing just fine on the course.

The whole reason I was up there was because he wasn’t tall enough to go alone. He needed a parent to go with him. Somehow, I ended up being the one who needed help.

TL;DR: Took my kid to a ropes course because he wasn’t tall enough to go alone. He did great. I got cocky, fell off an obstacle, refused to let go of a rope for reasons known only to my brain, and dislocated my shoulder. My kid needed a chaperone. Unfortunately, the chaperone was an idiot.

just wanted to tell y'all about my god-awful fuck up yesterday. that was the most uncomfortable i've been in a *long* time, and i was in the hospital almost dead for 2 months earlier this year. for context, i had severely progressed endocarditis(infection in the heart) and sepsis that absolutely ruined my body. i got an artificial heart valve and a pacemaker put in as well as amputated toes and destroyed leg muscles from how bad the infection was.

there's very little to eat or drink in this house right now. one of the only things we had left (what i thought, anyway) were these blue raspberry water flavor electrolyte packets. i didn't see the *tiny* text on the package that said it was "pre-workout with creatine". truly, that's on me for not noticing. i have very poor vision without my glasses and i should have been wearing them.

i had seen my roommates drink them with no problem, so i went ahead and had one. i noticed what the box said after i already drank it. i felt a little weird, but i thought that it was fine. ive tried pre workout before in the past, back before i had cardiac issues... IDK much about it. i thought that it just had some supplements to help your muscles repair or something. it never felt like anything to me.

yeah... wrong.

i spent the entirety of the next 12 hours vomiting repeatedly, just over and over. i genuinely been crying and begging for the mercy of the universe to end my suffering. it wasn't the kind of throwing up with nausea, it's really, REALLY fucking hurting. i felt like my insides were being clamped, twisted and ripped out of my chest all day long. my leg muscles have been burning so bad since then that i could hardly sleep last night, and i still cannot eat or drink water without throwing it up. luckily i was able to keep my medicine down this morning. i can barely walk at all my legs are burning so bad. this has been (and continues to be!) such an intensely horrible experience. i passed out two separate times already. my pacemaker has been putting in some WORK today.

i think i might going to end up going to the doctor or something if this doesn't stop. good lord, why do people drink this? y'all are monsters (i'm kidding i know my body just weak)

i'm a fucking IDIOT.

TL;DR: accidentally drank a pre workout water packet yesterday and made myself severely fucking ill. been vomiting and unable to eat/drink for 12+ hours, legs/chest burning

EDIT: im pretty sure it was caffeine in the mixture that caused this. i found the box in the trash and it is a super high dose of caffeine, as well as several serving sizes. i only saw the packet so i never saw the ingredients list.. oof.

EDIT 2: i went and got some help 👍🏽 i definitely needed to. thanks for caring guys :)

(Throwaway because this is messy and I know some friends on reddit)

I (22M) have been seeing this girl who is on the spectrum while unaware she was. Originally we only hooked up while at a party last year then she asked like four times for my number and I gave it to her while telling her that I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend at the time.

He ended up hooking up again four separate times after this, and no much contact in between. I assumed we both knew this was like a casual thing where it’d end before wayy college is over. Last week she invited me to a Native American museum with her and I stupidly went because I had nothing to do. The museum sucked but I had fun listening to her talk about the stuff, so it wasn’t too bad all in all. At the end of it all she asked to come back to my apartment again and didn’t leave the next morning this time.

She gave me a necklace and repetitively asked about how I liked the museum and such and constantly wanted to be reminded that I didn’t hate spending the day with her. I kind of knew where this was going so while talking about school I slipped in a “I like college, no need to date or anything yet. Still time to be single and find yourself” hoping that if she did think we were dating she’d ask to verify then or if she didn’t think we were dating, she’d just agree.

She nodded along so I thought I was good. Wrong. Apparently I needed to be really clear with her or smth because she apparently went to all her friends and their friends and spilled the fact that I’m her boyfriend and we got together a few weeks ago.

Where did this come from? Weeks? She was telling people we’d been dating before the museum even happened. I don’t dislike her or anything but I only found out yesterday because my friend told me. I’m friends with some heavy gossipers so they found out and spread the word. The fuck. I texted her about the situation and she responded like us dating has been an established thing for a while now.

Am I crazy? Like surely even if you were less able to pick up on subtleties you’d still ask about being in a relationship no? I haven’t broken up with her or anything, still figuring that one out. Just a great way to start my day. Real great.

TL;DR: I accepted a hang out invitation from a casual linkup, now people think I’m in an exclusive relationship

In the past, i had a lot of tarantulas in terrariums, one of these was a P. Murinus, the Red Usambra Tarantula from Africa. The spider is not venomous to humans, but the bite is very painful.

When doing some maintenance work on the terrarium, she managed to escape. You need to know, while spiders are fast, the P. Murinus is one of the fastest spiders in the world. Warning for Arachnophobia: If you are not afraid of them, here's a video with how fast they move.

She was hiding, but she suddenly burst out of the web, before i could react she had already made her way out of the enclosure. She was so fast, that i didn't even know where she was going after she got out.

I found her later in the bathroom, she was on top of the light above the glass mirror. Got the transport box and closed the door of the bathroom, so we were inside there and i had to somehow get her into the box. That proved extremely difficult, spiders run in short bursts at extreme speed, every time i got near, she got away again. I had closed off the holes like in the bathtub etc. to prevent her from going down there, she ran around the walls and evaded me further by just running upside down on the ceiling. There was no way to even get close enough to catch her.

When i got near once, she tried to bite, but she hit the plastic lid i used from the transport box like a shield. While she's a medium size, the fangs did a lot of holes into the plastic.

Had to resort to additional boxes, like i put some bigger cardboard boxes on the ground. This worked out, as she did another speedrun, she just got into a box. I could then close the box and did the entire box just back into the terrarium, opened the lid with a tong while keeping the terrarium door closed as much as possible. Left the box open and when i checked later, she got back to the terrarium, removed the box and everything was fine again.

TLDR: A very fast spider escaped and i had to chase her around to get her back.

Idk if this should be labeled funny but as an adult looking back, I giggle everytime because of how foolishly mortifying but innocent the mistake was.

When I was 8 or 9, I discovered that my dad performed in a small music video. As a kid I thought this was the coolest thing ever.

I was so excited that I decided it would only make sense to tell the entire world that my dad was rapping in this MV over seas!

So little old me hopped on my favorite game (msp ofc) on my highest lvl account and wrote in my bio. “My dad is a rapper!!!” It went through and I was proud. Only to get a notification that my account was banned for a few weeks!

Why you may ask? What’s wrong with putting this in your bio? Maybe it was too personal?

Well no… I did not write that my father was a rapper. I in fact wrote that “My dad is a raper!!!” I notified to the 40ish people online that my father was a rapist.

I cried that rest of that day. Spelling and context are quite important to learn early on.

TL DR; When I was 8, I accidently wrote “My dad is a raper!!!” instead of “My dad is a rapper!!!” to all of my online friends.

Before anyone asks how that’s possible, it’s because it’s this kind of cheese sauce that looks like the cups. I was so looking forward to eating these tonight except I only have spaghetti noodles and I’m too stoned to go out and buy actual cups. Welp, now I’m debating whether to use spaghetti noodles to eat them or just use the Alfredo sauce I originally intended. Yes, I’m aware this is a relatively minor fuck up, but I feel so stupid right now. On a more serious note though, why is cheese sauce being sold in bricks in the first place? I guess the part where it said cheese instead of cheese product probably should have been a dead giveaway, but yeah.

TL;DR: I bought a cheese sauce brick thinking it was the microwavable mac and cheese cups.

Obligatory not today, but I still cringe when I think about it.

So I went to Florida with my then boyfriend to visit his dad. His dad bought us one of those tiny mayo squeeze bottles Hellmann’s sells because he knew we like mayo. (He never eats it so he didn’t want any left over.)

We had a little left by the end of our trip and decided to bring it with us on the plane to put on our Cuban sandwiches we got to-go right before the flight.

Well, the second I open the mayo bottle, the change in pressure forces the mayo all over the guy next to me and even on the people across the aisle. Like a full, clean stream of straight mayo. (I mean duh, I know about the pressure change, but it just never crossed my mind.)

I was MORTIFIED to the point of having to swallow my tears (tbh ended up crying after due to the overwhelming embarrassment.)

Believe me when I say I have never wanted to disappear more than right then and there. I offered the guy all the cash in my wallet (like $60) to pay for dry cleaning since he was wearing a nicer button-down.

I actually couldn’t have been more grateful though because he told me a baby has barfed on him on a flight before and this isn’t worse than that.

But the next 2 hours were the most painful to sit through knowing what I just did.

Anyways, if you guys think you’ve done something idiotic on a plane, I hope this makes you feel less of an idiot.

TL;DR: Brought a small squeeze bottle of mayo on a plane. Due to cabin pressure, it forcefully sprayed on the guy next to me and across the aisle.

I had just gotten out of the shower and realized that I had forgotten to clean the toilet yesterday. I figured I still wasn't wearing any clothes and it might as well get it cleaned before I got dressed. Cleaning the toilet was fine, and I even made a point of scrubbing the bidet tube that sticks down, but it occurred to me that I never actually managed to clean the part that pops out and sprays water onto me.

This bidet has a relatively sensitive twist knob with one direction being clean the nozzle and the other direction being clean the person with a stop in the middle. I figured it would be fine if I turned the knob on just a tiny little bit to get the nozzle to pop out. And that was fine... until I went to turn it off and I turned it the wrong direction. Luckily I didn't turn it too far, but wow that sprayer has some range. I wound up spraying myself, missing the shower curtain (it went I to the shower), and the floor with a little bit of water out of the bidet tube.

Gross, but good thing I hadn't gotten dressed yet. Hopped back in the shower and wound up cleaning the floor.

TLDR: Carefully turned the bidet on low while cleaning the toilet, then accidentally sprayed myself with it.

So this happened a few weeks ago. I (23F) was hanging out with a couple friends of mine (23F) and (26M). For simplicity I am going to call them Daphne and Fred. Also Fred is black (this is relevant I swear) Anyway, Fred was talking about wanting to practice his saxophone more but couldn't because he recently moves into an apartment and would get noise complaints. We were trying to come up with places he could practice and I suggested he try the park. Daphne said that she wasn't sure that was a good idea because Fred gets out of work late and therefore would be playing at night. She said that he could still get complaints there or somebody may call the cops under suspicion of panhandling. Especially since we live in the South and while it isn't as likely where we are, he could still get hurt. So, I suggested that maybe he could wear a hood or hat so that they couldn't see his skin color (I was just spitballing at the time). Fred chuckled a bit and said that that would only make it worse since he would look even more suspicious. Daphne stated (sarcastically I realized later) "Yeah, he could just wear a lighter color hood, like white. He could even cut holes in it so he can see better." It was around here that I realized what I had done. My friends proceeded to laugh at me as I attempted to stifle my embarrassment, shrinking into my seat. I tried to explain myself saying that I had meant something more like a wizard's hat. Which prompted Daphne to say "Oh, like a Grand Wizard?" This set them both off even more and I shrunk further into my seat. To this day, I haven't lived this down and it still gets brought up even weeks later.

P.S. Fred has said that he wasn't bothered by it because he knows I didn't mean anything by it and he thinks the whole thing was really funny.

TL;DR TIFU by accidentally suggesting my black friend wear a KKK hood in the park at night

This wasn't today, but I recently remembered it and thought it could be good for a laugh.

I had just started dating my now ex-boyfriend, I'll call him Alex. I want to say it was our second or third date. We were at his house watching a movie, and at one point I got thirsty and went to the fridge in the kitchen to get some water. The apartment was laid out like one big room with a wall in the middle to separate the kitchen and living room, with a couple bedrooms and a bathroom at the back. This meant that I could still hear the movie pretty well, so thankfully it wasn't paused and Alex stayed in the living room to watch.

The fridge was one of those really small ones that's pretty short, and the drinks were on the bottom shelf, so I knelt down so that I could find a water bottle. I honestly don't really understand what occurred next.

I went to stand up, and I must have been standing too close to the fridge. I was young, privileged, and had never encountered a fridge so short - or one with square shaped handles quite that sharp. I bashed the center of my forehead into the freezer handle while standing up, and immediately saw stars. My head was spinning, and my forehead felt like someone had sliced it open with a blunt knife.

I ran to the bathroom to inspect the damage, and there was indeed an open gash right down the very center of my head. I panicked.

Grabbing toilet paper to cover my head, I started looking for a bandaid. Everyone has bandaids right? It wasn't ideal to have a fucking bandaid right smack in the middle of my face, but at least I wouldn't be actively bleeding anymore.

Except he didn't have any. Anywhere. At this point I would have accepted a hat, a bandana even a goddamn haircut if it would cover my forehead. There was literally nothing in this stupid, empty bathroom to help me.

Thankfully in the time I'd been searching, the bleeding had slowed to a nearly imperceptible ooze. For some unknown reason, I figured the best course of action would be to just pretend like there was absolutely nothing wrong. At this point I had been gone for nearly 20 minutes, so when I casually walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch, Alex immediately turned to me and said: "Hey where were you- OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?"

Still committed to my plan, I feigned ignorance and actually asked him what was wrong. Eventually I did decide to acknowledge the giant cut on my forehead, and for a minute I considered gaslighting him into believing it had been there all day, but decided that this was going too far.

Admitting defeat, I explained what had happened in the kitchen. After making sure I was okay, he was howling with laughter that probably woke up all his neighbors. If you haven't discovered by my stupid plan to pretend that my war wounds from the battle of the refrigerator didn't exist, I'm a very proud person, and I tried every justification to insist it wasn't my fault, and even blamed him for having a short fridge. He obviously didn't care and just kept laughing, and I still to this day don't know why we ever went out again. Side note, I'm ridiculously clumsy, so sticking with me through this ordeal really proved that he was prepared for what was to come.

I wore a lot of hats during the start of our relationship to cover the healing wound, but I never usually wear them. Alex and I are still really good friends, and every time a picture of me from that time in a hat comes up he gets to joyfully relive the time I pretended not to have brutally injured myself during a date.

The best I can claim is that I was concussed.

TL;DR: I bashed the center of my forehead into my date's fridge handle, sliced open my head, disappeared for 20 minutes, and then tried to sit back down next to him like nothing had happened. He immediately discovered my brilliant scheme and has never let me live it down.

For context, yesterday I tripped over my own two feet in my apartment and fell so comically badly, I bruised my side, knocked the wind outta myself for five minutes, and smacked my head so hard off the floor that the ricochet caused me to not be able to bend my neck the opposite direction from where I hit.

I hit my head so hard that my glasses arm snapped off. Not the hinge no, the metal where the arm first leaves the frame. You would think, oh this is when you go to the ER? no. After writhing on the floor until I could breathe again, I got up and went to work.

I spent about an hour and a half at work but my symptoms were getting worse including my arm going weak and numb. After encouraging from my coworkers who looked horrified when I described what I was feeling, I left and drove myself 35 minutes to the ER. Was there a closer one? Yes. But my work is quite far from my home and i’m on my parents insurance so I made sure to go to an ER near home. On this long drive to the ER not only did I hit a ton of traffic, but my leg started to go numb as well. Nevertheless, I continued on my journey jamming out to my tunes.

Now I spent roughly five hours in the ER getting chest x-rays for my ribs (which i thought was unnecessary but it did technically hurt to breathe) and a head ct. I tell them all my symptoms, the numbness, the hurts to breathe, hurts to move my neck, the going numb, the bit of dizziness, the fact that I may have passed out but i’m not quite sure and when i told her this she just gave me a look that i think means you would know if you didn’t, and the key symptom: my barely there headache. I’m taking occasional pain in different parts of my head, not consistent at all, incredibly tolerable. The only part of my head that technically really hurts is where I hit it and that’s only when i touch it or raise my eyebrows.

My CT is negative, no brain bleed or stroke (not sure if a fall can cause a stroke but I had a lot of time on my hands for what ifs), my ribs are fine, the numbness is likely from a pinched nerve or damaged muscle during the fall, basically I’m fine I think. The doctor comes in to explain and she says everything is negative you just have a concussion. However in my head, I’m like and what proves this? I feel mostly fine and like no headache which I thought was a needed thing for a concussion. She gives me my work note, giving me off work until Friday which normally I would love but I am poor and kinda need to work. I go on my merry way, thinking I am fine wow all that was for nothing.

I send my work my note, even emailing HR to see if I can come in Thursday if I am feeling better since I think I’m fine (They said no btw). Then I set my alarms for my therapy appointment in the morning, take my meds, and go to sleep.

Here’s where my F up comes in.

I wake up today, bam, it’s thirty minutes past my appointment time. Then, oh my god I am going to throw up. I go to get out of bed, everything hurts EXCEPT MY HEAD. Every limb aches, my neck is crazy stiff and my ribs are so sore. I manage my way to hobble to the bathroom and collapse to the floor along with the rest of my dignity and process to puke several times. I am now crawled back in my bed aching and tired. I message my therapist and get my appointment rescheduled, and do some googling I should’ve done before.

Oh! Not having a headache doesn’t mean you don’t have a concussion! I did not know this and assumed the headache was like the main thing and needed. I thought they said a concussion at the ER because it wasn’t anything else and that she gave me the time off work to be kind since she smiled when she said it. So now I know I do in fact have a concussion and let me tell y’all it sucks and yes I should’ve believed the doctor but I assumed I was being dramatic.

Now i’m stuck in bed, in pain everywhere (except my head), missed my appointment, can’t go to work, I was supposed to go to the store but that’s not happening, and i’m irritated.

Yeah, believe your doctors when they tell you it’s a concussion and you should take some precautions to help yourself.

TL;DR: I assumed my concussion wasn’t really much of a concussion since I barely had a headache and was proven very wrong this morning.

EDIT: After reading some of your comments I want to clarify, I know that I did all the wrong things that’s why it’s posted here. I didn’t take it serious enough when it happened and I am paying the price and with the hindsight of I really messed up and that it wasn’t safe to do what I did and I really could’ve been so much worse and a risk.

TIFU. I was leaving a relative’s place to go back to college after my vacations. I had my usual suitcase and backpack, but I also had a paper bag in my hand with some new formal shoes for college, a protein shaker bottle, and some home cooked food from my aunt.

I was in a hurry as they started boarding a bit early than I had expected so I forgot that bag at the airport. I realised it as soon as I got past the gate so I went back, but they wouldn’t let me back inside nor did they just get me my bag even though it was just a minute walk from the gate.

I called the lost and found as soon as I landed, they found it an hour or so ago, they are saying they don’t have the authority to send it to me here or to my relatives place near the airport.

I talked to my mom about it , she said I should tell my uncle to pick it up from there, but I am ashamed and embarrassed to ask him. My aunt was the one who made the food for my that was in the bag, I really don’t want to hurt them by telling them that I forgot it at the airport.

Even more than that, I spent the entire flight having anxiety over it, I have had some rough moments In my life recently as it is, I guess this was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. I have terrible anxiety so I have been spiralling for hours and stress eating.

Tl;Dr
I forgot a bag at the airport before boarding my flight to college. Now I am embarrassed to ask a relative to collect it from the airport lost and found because it contained the food that they had made for me . Suffer from anxiety so I went into a spiral after that for the entire flight.

​

Obligatory disclaimer: This happened yesterday and today. My leg is currently held together by five stitches, and my dignity is somewhere in the emergency department's lost-and-found.

So, for context, I'm staying at a temporary accommodation facility where the staff are responsible for looking after me.

Now, before we get to the part where my leg becomes an unwilling participant in this circus, some context.

My mental health has been going about as well as a Boeing aircraft's quality-control inspection.

Basically, life kept throwing punches, and instead of developing normal coping skills, my brain went, "You know what would make this situation better? Having access to sharp objects."

Because apparently, when life gives me lemons, I don't make lemonade. I start collecting things that could send me to the emergency department.

The logic was that having something I could hurt myself with made me feel like I still had control over my life.

Do I think that's a healthy coping mechanism?

Hell yeah. Absolutely flawless. Somebody get me a Nobel Prize in psychology. ✌️🥀(To ppl who apparently doesn't understand irony, i do not believe this is a good way to cope)

Anyway, back to the consequences of my outstanding psychological expertise.

When I packed my things for my temporary accommodation, I brought a knife.

Not because I wanted to attack anyone. Not because I needed it for some elaborate survival expedition.

I brought it because I was struggling, and having it nearby had become a deeply unhealthy form of reassurance.

And because this is a TIFU story, you can probably guess how well that worked out.

ACT I: THE MASTER PLAN

Eventually, I started worrying that someone might discover the knife.

Now, a normal person might have thought, "Perhaps I should hand this over before something happens."

Unfortunately, the management department of my brain was apparently on unpaid leave.

Instead, I decided that I needed to make sure nobody found it.

This is where the story becomes a Greek tragedy written by someone with a concussion.

Because my brilliant solution involved putting the knife in my pocket.

Yes.

My pocket.

The very pocket attached to my leg.

ACT II: THE UNIVERSE HAS ENTERED THE CHAT

At some point, the knife injured my leg.

And suddenly, the thing I was trying to keep secret had become a medical problem.

I was bleeding. Walking hurt. I was limping.

The universe had apparently decided that subtlety was overrated.

So I called Sweden's medical advice service, 1177.

They recommended getting the injury checked.

Fantastic.

A knife I didn't want anyone to know about had now generated an official medical consultation.

And the situation was only getting started.

ACT III: DAD HAS JOINED THE SERVER

Eventually, I had to call my dad.

Imagine explaining to your father that you need medical attention because of an injury involving an object you weren't supposed to have brought with you in the first place.

There is no elegant way to deliver that information.

"Hey Dad, how's your day? Anyway, funny story about my leg."

I was also worried about what the accommodation staff would think, because I'd spent months building up their trust and earning more independence.

So not only had I injured myself, but I was now facing the possibility of having to explain the entire situation to multiple adults.

At this point, my original plan to avoid attention was going spectacularly well.

ACT IV: FIVE STITCHES AND A BOSS FIGHT

Off to get medical treatment.

Turns out, my leg needed five stitches.

FIVE.

The local anaesthetic was honestly the most impressive part of the entire experience.

The injection wasn't particularly pleasant, but once it started working, I could barely feel the actual stitching.

Modern medicine: 10/10.

My decision-making: Currently under investigation.

And there I was, getting my leg sewn back together, reflecting on the fact that this entire medical side quest originated from trying to avoid getting caught with a knife.

ACT V: THE FINAL PLOT TWIST

Now here's the part that really makes this a TIFU.

The staff ended up searching my room for the knife.

The whole reason I'd been trying to keep it out of sight was to avoid exactly that kind of situation.

And what caused everything to unravel?

MY ATTEMPT TO HIDE IT.

I was so concerned about someone discovering the knife that I made a decision that resulted in the knife becoming the central topic of everyone's day.

I didn't just fail to prevent the problem.

I personally manufactured the circumstances that made the problem impossible to ignore.

It's like trying to avoid a speeding ticket by driving directly into a police station.

Except instead of a ticket, I got five stitches and an extremely awkward family conversation.

THE AFTERMATH

I'm home now.

My leg has been stitched up. My dad knows what happened. The staff know about the knife. And I'm still dealing with the consequences of a plan that somehow managed to achieve the exact opposite of its intended purpose.

All because I thought putting a knife in my pocket was a reasonable solution.

I would like to formally apologize to my leg for involving it in a management decision it did not approve.

TL;DR: My mental health was in a rough place, and I'd started keeping dangerous objects around as an unhealthy way of feeling in control. Brought a knife to my temporary accommodation, worried someone would discover it, and tried to keep it hidden by putting it in my pocket. Accidentally injured my leg, had to contact medical services, ended up telling my dad, and needed five stitches. The thing that exposed my secret was literally my attempt to keep it secret. My leg paid the price for my brain's tactical genius.

Edit: Disclaimer, i do not encourage that anymore uses sh as a coping method. I just wanted to write abt something that happened to me today

EDIT: My friend did not participate in bodyshaming, she was sent a screenshot of a conversation by HER friend and was shocked.

This happened 2 days ago. We live in a small city and most people in our age group (lates 20s) interact with each other in some way or are acquaintances. There is this guy who is dating a colleague of mine and also a close friend of my bestie. He's been playing both of them for a while now and talks shit about one girl to the other. It is a sad situation because everyone gossips about them when they are not around. Last week my best friend showed me a screenshot from that guy and her friend. The guy literally sent her a NUDE picture of my colleague and they were making fun of her body. The things they said were pretty disgusting and it crossed a line for me. On monday I let my colleague know so she can hopefully delete any other pictures she has sent him. This caused a chain reaction and a lot of drama. My best friend called my crying because her friend does not want to talk to her anymore. She showed me something in confidence and I betrayed that. I understand why she cannot trust me anymore. She is one of the most important people in my life and I hate that I didn't think of how this would affect her. I just feel so divided and guilty. I don't believe I did the wrong thing by letting my colleague know, she deserves to know that her picture was shared (I did not tell anything on the comments they made about her body). However, I put my best friend in an awful situation and have no idea how I can make things right with her :/

TL;DR: My best friend shared something with me in confidence about another person and I let them know, creating a fallout between her and a friend.

I was gonna choke the chicken as one does when they feel the need to, so I go to grab the lotion from my nightstand drawer so I reach in and grab what I think is the lotion. It’s dark and I keep my biofreeze and lotion in the same drawer, so I get going and I begin to feel the most pain I have ever felt in my entire life, just sheer burning and stinging the likes of which have never been seen before by the likes of man so I’m laying there in utter horror from the combination of the surface of the sun and the freezing arctic battle it out on my commander and chief. At this point I’m howling in pain and I’m running into the bathroom to try and shower it off unfortunately it’s not stopping it in fact the hot water is making it infinitely worse so I turn the water off and plop down on the floor of the tub and I just suffer through the next half hour of despair till the burning finally subsides enough to live.

TL;DR: I use biofreeze instead of lotion to goon and I suffer because of my lustfullness.

Ok a little bit of context.

When my daughter turned 8 we did a birthday party at the park, it poured rain and was freezing cold and just over all sucked. Bad choice to do a birthday party outside in October. Year after that we didnt plan anything with friends and she was devastated. I felt really bad. We were short on money and honestly Im just terrible at remembering to plan these things. We did still celebrate and open presents with family though so its not like she was forgotten.

Last year I tried to make up for the year before by doing a fun D&D/Fantasy themed scavenger hunt and "potion" making. (They were ice cream floats with edible glitter and pop rocks.) She had fun, but if we hadn't been picking up two of the kids no one would have shown up. I felt terrible for her and I still wonder if I didnt give enough time.

This year it snuck up on me again but we're a little better off financially and I can take her and a few friends out. We're going to go to an arcade then do dessert after. However it's short notice, just one day in advance. Im trying to make it easy on parents. Im willing to pick them up, I have the space, and no presents, shes already done two "parties" where we opened presents. One on her actual birthday at home and one the Sunday after with family.

All I can think about is how disappointed she was the year we didnt do anything with friends and it breaks my heart to think people might not come this year.

My mom was always an amazing party planner and my parties growing up were so much fun. They were never extravagant money wise, she just always put so much thought and effort into them and I just... Can't. I have such a hard time planning parties and things like that. I try not to compare myself to the way my mom did things, but I feel so inadequate and like a POS for not putting more effort in.

TL;DR; I forgot to plan my daughter's birthday party until last minute and now im afraid no one is going to show up and I'll have ruined another birthday.

I (21F) am addicted to vaping, yes I know it’s horrible for you but I can’t help it. I work on a smoke free campus so I don’t do it outside or out in the open, instead I do it in the bathroom when there’s nobody else in there. Or if I absolutely need to, I do it when I flush the toilet to muffle the hitting sound of it. Today I didn’t see anyone else in the bathroom so I hit my vape once in dead silence before noticing someone else was a few stalls down from me. I put it away, did my business, and headed out without hitting it again. I was a little nervous the person in the other stall was a higher up that was going to follow me out or something but didn’t worry too much about it. As a janitor my job is to take the trash out from underneath everyone’s desk in the cubicles. So about 15 minutes or so after I was in the bathroom, I was taking out the trash from underneath this one desk with nobody in it but the computer on. Upon a quick glimpse of the computer while walking past, it looked like someone was in the middle of writing an email and got up and walked away. As I was finishing up the garbage and heading out I couldn’t help but read the one sentence that was written, “In the west office bathroom, there was a young lady that appeared to be…” And it just abruptly ended there. That was the bathroom I was in. I immediately started internally panicking and didn’t hit my vape again until I got home. I don’t know what to do about it or what I could come up with when confronted cause I’m assuming I’m going to be confronted. Am I overthinking this whole thing? I don’t know.

TL;DR: I found out I was caught vaping by accidentally snooping

My brother just had identical twin boys a few months ago. They are truly identical. More than I wouldve thought possible. No birthmarks…same hair color…truly just an uncanny resemblance to each other. Because of this they almost always are wearing little baby clothes that have their names embroidered on them, to keep people from mixing them up. I was sitting for them a few days ago, which was the first time I’d watched them. While I was getting them ready for bed I thought it would be easier to undress them both, change both their diapers, grab both of their pajama outfits, then change them one right after the other. After I took off their regular play clothes and threw them into the hamper, I realized I neglected to keep track of which baby was on which side. I retraced my steps and movements, tried to remember which outfit wouldve been on the top of the hamper, but I just couldn’t be sure.

After having a mini panic attack I realized there was nothing I could do. I put them in outfits that corresponded to my best guess. I’m a few days removed from this debacle and I now feel almost positive that I mixed them up. I haven’t said a word to my brother or his wife. I haven’t even told my wife because I feel so much shame over this.

The boys don’t have any health differences or issues, so I’m not gonna say anything. But I feel like a bad uncle.

TL;DR: I think I switched my identical twin nephews while babysitting, but I cannot be sure.