greenmangostudio

For context, I work in a small office (like 8 people) and we have a shared kitchen area with a Nespresso machine. When I started, I saw there were always pods sitting in the basket next to the machine and I just assumed they were communal office supplies, like the tea bags and stuff. I was pumped because free fancy coffee at work is always a win. Fast forward to today. Im making my usual afternoon cappuccino and this girl from accounting walks in. She looks at me weird and goes "hey random question but have you been using the Nespresso a lot lately?" I said yeah obviously, its there for everyone right? Her face just dropped. Turns out she brought it from home because the office coffee sucks and shes been buying her own pods this whole time. She said she noticed they were going way faster than usual but figured maybe she was just drinking more coffee than she thought. Then she saw a few other people using it recently and it all made sense. I literally wanted to die right t...

For the past few weeks, I thought I was doing everything “right.” I was sleeping 7–8 hours almost every night, my job wasn’t physically demanding, and from the outside my routine looked pretty normal. Because of that, I kept telling myself that I had no reason to feel tired or unmotivated. But mentally, I felt exhausted all the time. I couldn’t focus properly, small tasks felt overwhelming, and I constantly felt irritated for no clear reason. Instead of listening to that, I convinced myself I was just being lazy or dramatic. So I pushed harder. I stayed glued to my phone late at night, kept overthinking everything, and ignored the signs that something was off. The real fuck-up happened when I finally took a day off, expecting to feel refreshed. Instead, I felt even worse. That’s when it hit me that rest isn’t just about sleeping or not doing physical work. I had completely ignored mental overload — constant stimulation, stress, and never giving my brain a real break. Now I’m dealing w...

Basically the title. I (20F) know a friend of a friend (19NB), call them C, who I thought was cool and was trying to get closer with. We were going to a concert with mutual friend together and ended up chatting for a bit while waiting for them to arrive. During our conversation, C mentioned that they were a singer in high school. I got excited by this and asked what genre they sang. They replied with “Well, when you’re classically trained, pop is too easy, so I sang musical theatre.” Readers, here comes my fuck up. See, I was also classically trained in high school and am the sort who never shuts up about it. And I’m gonna be honest, it kinda irks me when people who train in a musical theatre or pop style throw around “classically trained” as if it’s this big badge of honour thing and not like,,, a style of singing, just like pop or jazz or theatre. (I know this is a pretentious and assumptive take, once again, ego). So I respond with “Oh I was classically trained too! I had to sin...

I misunderstood the assignment. The question was "What is the rudest comment someone has made to you regarding your natural hair?" I shared with everyone that I'm a white woman who has natural black hair and people would try to investigate my ethnicity. People would ask me if I was half Asian and then argue with me about my real ethnicity based off nothing but my hair color. I got a DNA test and 99% of my DNA came from Britain, Ireland, and Scandanavia. I'm the definition of white bread. I just happen to have black hair. I scrolled past the post after leaving my comment and then realization set in a few minutes later. I scrolled all the way back up to the post and actually read the comments. It was all black women sharing stories about people being racist to them and insulting their afros and natural hair texture. Then I looked at the hashtag and it was hashtagged for people with 4c hair type. I completely misunderstood what they meant by "natural" in the ...

I (m 28) have moved to Colombia for work. It came with a promotion for the IT company I work at and it is also the first time I have left the US. Now one thing that I was desperate to lose while in Colombia was my virginity. I figured a change of scenery would definitely help with this. Over the weekend a friend invited me to a party where I hit it off with this attractive girl (f 25). It has been a while since I felt chemistry like this with someone of the opposite sex, and as the night progressed soon we found ourselves at her place. I was playing it cool and trying to go with the flow, we went down on each other...so far so good. Then I was about to stand up and get the condom from my pants when she opened her drawer and pulled one out. I reached out to take it but she said "dont worry I can help you" and proceeded to open it and roll it on me. This really threw me off my game. I had envisioned this moment many times and it always involved me handing the condom and pu...

This is one of those dumb mistakes that doesn't seem like a big deal until you actually stop and do the math. So a few months ago, I signed up for some free trial. I honestly can't even remember what it was for now, probably some productivity app or meditation thing I convinced myself I'd actually use. I told myself I'd cancel before they started charging. Spoiler: I didn't. The app just kind of... disappeared into the void of my phone. You know how it is: you download something, use it twice, then it gets shoved into a folder you never open. Out of sight, out of mind. Fast forward to last week. I'm lying in bed scrolling through my bank app (as one does when they should be sleeping), and something feels off. My balance isn't wrong exactly, just lower than I expected. So I start poking around. That's when I see it. This charge I vaguely recognize. $9.99. Same day every month. Going back... and back... and back. Six. Fucking. Months. I just sat there...