hellenhighwater:

My best friend texted me a half hour ago to ask about the weather here–she’s going to be in town this evening and wanted to know how to dress. I was standing outside in the sun, drinking a hot coffee and wearing jeans and a hoodie, so I texted back, “I dunno, it’s nice out.”

She replied “Why do I even ask you these questions. Hellen, you have no idea what anything is.” 

When I objected to that cruel statement, she replied with the following examples:

• one point when she came home to find me standing barefoot in a snowbank in jeans and a teeshirt, stringing christmas lights on a deck railing and had to inform me that it was -20 degrees and I should probably go inside or at least put on some shoes
• the time when I was packing my suitcase before a six month study abroad trip and was sure I’d loaded it under 150 pounds, and carried it in my arms up two flights of stairs, only to find it weighed over 250
• one time when a red hot charcoal lump fell out of a firepit and I apparently said “it’s not that hot” and grabbed it barehanded and threw it back in

and just to finish me off, she sent me a screencap of a weather app on my location.

It was 97 degrees out.

I guess I really don’t know anything.