My former roommate took their microwave with them when they moved out, and now I feel so… adrift. I get hungry and walk into the kitchen purposefully, then think, “Uh… now what?” Microwavelessness is such a sad and empty state. I miss this microwave more than I miss my roommate. It’s nothing personal; it’s just that the roommate couldn’t reliably be used to heat food… unless I lit them on fire and then cooked the food over their burning body.

Tuesday’s forecast: Seriously, it was nothing personal. Why are you looking at me like that?