We're eating good for eleven, twelve nights. Maybe thirteen if we stretch it. — 2026-04-12

sweats archive ↗

A person in sweatpants has opened their oven to find it completely packed with dozens of frozen pizzas stacked like a brick wall, cheese side facing out. They stand with one hand on their hip, the other holding a single fork, wearing an 'INSPECTION DAY' apron over their sweatshirt. A clipboard on the counter shows checkboxes for 'crust integrity,' 'pepperoni distribution,' and 'emotional readiness.' Their face shows the smug satisfaction of a completed project.

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We're eating good for eleven, twelve nights. Maybe thirteen if we stretch it.