I lied about my proficiency in a software tool on my resume and then spent my entire weekend speed-running a masterclass on it.

I still listen to the last voicemail my best friend left me before we stopped talking three years ago.

I told my boyfriend I lost my memory card from our vacation. I didn’t lose it—I just saw what was in his deleted photos folder.

I rewatch our old voice notes from three years ago whenever I miss hearing how your voice sounded.

I pretended I was a better student than I actually was so everyone would think I was perfect at school.

I feel completely disconnected from my own ambitions, like I am just coasting on autopilot through life.

Our team lead hasn't written a single line of code in three months; we have been secretly covering for him.

I told my cat that the vacuum cleaner was a gentle pet monster, and now he just stares at it blankly.

The entire engineering floor has a running spreadsheet tracking which managers will get fired next during restructuring.

I told my therapist I was a good daughter, but I have never spoken to my father in five years.

My childhood dog passed away while I was away at college, and my family buried him without letting me say goodbye.

My roommate hid the TV remote, so I downloaded an app that controls his smart bulb and turned his lights off during his game.

I still feel sick to my stomach when I remember how mean I was to the quiet kid in middle school cafeteria.

My husband’s brother tried to flirt with me at our backyard BBQ when he thought no one was looking. I recorded his voice on my phone and saved it to my drive.

I know which departments are hiding critical information but I cant tell anyone without getting fired.