Dear Readers, This Was a Bad Idea

Narrating what should have stayed private

Dear Readers,

Before you go any further, I feel morally obligated to warn you that this is not a calm corner of the internet. This is not where a well-adjusted woman shares thoughtful reflections, five life lessons, and a soft little recommendation for a morning routine that will change your life.

This is where the universe, for reasons known only to itself, keeps throwing increasingly ridiculous situations at one specific woman and then watching to see if she survives long enough to write about them.

That woman is me.

For my long-time Readers, welcome back, and thank you for continuing to support what has become less of a writing style and more of an ongoing public incident. You have watched me get dragged into one absurd situation after another and then return to tell the story with commentary, unnecessary backstory, and the kind of detail that probably should have stayed in my notes app but never does. Honestly, some of this is your fault. You encouraged me.

For the newbies, welcome. You did not stumble in at a strange time because there is no normal time to arrive here. It is always like this. That is the first thing you need to understand.

Anyway, hi. I’m Sarah.

I do not live a simple life. I live inside fully developed plotlines with unnecessary twists.

You see, a normal person deals with something and it stays exactly what it is.
I deal with something and it refuses to stay small. It grows. It involves other people. It takes a turn. And suddenly what should have been a quick, forgettable moment in my life turns into something that needs context, explanation, and unfortunately a full retelling.

That is how we got here.

Also at some point, I started calling people “Readers” as a joke, which should have been stopped immediately. Instead, people embraced it. Supported it. Helped turn it into a full-blown identity. So now the bit has become a lifestyle, and here you are, either as one of the originals who helped create this problem or as someone new who is about to understand why they did.

So let me save everyone some time and set expectations now:

This is not self-help.

I am not here to guide you toward inner peace, fix your morning routine, or help you become your highest self. I am still trying to figure out why the universe keeps assigning me storylines that sound too unhinged to explain casually. Wellness is not my lane. Narration is.

What I can do is tell you exactly what happened.

With detail.
With sarcasm.
With the kind of commentary that makes people laugh first and then pause for a moment like, wait, is she okay?

And yes, eventually, you are going to hear about Craig and Bestie.

If you’re new here, let me explain the dynamic you are voluntarily signing up for when it comes to the three of us: nothing we do is ever simple, and every story you’re about to read comes with a backstory, an explanation, and at least one moment where I have to clarify that we are not, in fact, completely unwell. We just operate differently.

Bestie and Craig are recurring disruptions. They are the reason “it’ll be chill” has never once been true. They are the reason no story is ever short, no explanation is ever simple, and why what should be a two-hour car ride somehow turns into nine. Bestie approaches everything like a mission and then immediately abandons the plan the second something “has a vibe.” Craig exists on an entirely separate agenda that requires frequent, unnecessary stops for reasons known only to him. And I’m in the middle, fully aware that none of this should be happening and yet it always does. This is not chaos by accident. This is a system. And if you’re going to understand any of the stories that follow, you need to understand that first.

They are not always the cause of the chaos. But they are very often in the room when it gets worse.

So whether you’ve been here from the beginning, loyally watching me get assigned fresh nonsense by the universe like this is some kind of cursed internship, or you just wandered in because something about this felt like a bad idea in the best possible way: Welcome.

Stay a while.

Apparently this is my calling. Or my punishment. The jury is still out.

Either way, I have stories, Readers.

And around here, the really good ones are never the short version.