Today I Fucked Up

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Ok-Bed583 on 2025-11-18 07:23:21+00:00.

So this happened a few years back, but my fingers still look weird enough that it deserves its own cautionary tale.

There are bad ideas. Then there are the kinds of bad ideas that only show up during the last stretch of a sixteen hour shift in a flour mill when your bloodstream is fifty percent exhaustion and the other fifty percent PBR.

The machine I was tending was ancient. A relic from the 1930s. Nothing digital. Nothing smart. Pure mechanical spite. It grabbed a bag from the stack, puffed air into it to open the mouth, dropped in about nine and a half pounds of flour, and sent it down the line. The sealing and stitching was handled later, a few stations downstream. My only job was to keep this temperamental dinosaur from jamming or exploding.

At some point that night, after too many hours of listening to the same clanks and whines, I had a thought no reasonable person should ever entertain.

What would happen if I stuck my hand in there.

I wish I could blame anything but myself, but curiosity and boredom are powerful drugs. And yes, the machine was running. So I did it.

The machine did not hesitate. It did not care. It did not pause to consider my value as a human being. It grabbed the bag as usual and my hand along with it. My index and middle finger took the full force. I felt the pain in perfect clarity. No delay. No confusion. Just raw nerve lightning. And then I watched the machine continue its cycle like it hadn’t just tried to amputate me. Bag filled with flour. Released. Sent on its way toward the dribbler like nothing was wrong.

When my fingers came back out they did not look like they belonged to me anymore. My middle finger was lacerated clean across the first knuckle on both sides. My index finger already had a bruise blooming under the nail, deep purple and angry. Throbbing like it had its own heartbeat.

I pulled the bloody bag off the line without even thinking. Then I walked off calmly like I was just going to get a drink of water, not trying to keep my insides from becoming outsides.

In the break room I found the first aid kit. That was when the real problem hit me. I could not apply a bandage using the same hand that needed bandaging.

My manager walked in and got the sanitized version of the story. I made it sound like a normal accident. Something that could happen to anyone. Not “I stuck my hand into a ninety year old flour machine for science.”

We wrapped it up. I double gloved. And because medical bills are expensive and pride is dangerous, I went back to work and finished the shift with a partially mutilated hand.

The middle finger works, technically. It just never went back to factory specs. The joint is weird. The nail looks a little off. The scars are faint now but you can still read them like bad handwriting if you know where to look.

That old machine never apologized. It just kept running.

Honestly, I kind of respect it.

TL;DR: Years ago I stuck my hand into a running 1930s flour bagging machine during hour sixteen of my shift because I got curious. It mangled my fingers but I still finished the shift. My middle finger has never looked normal since.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Odd_Accountant2669 on 2025-11-18 06:34:27+00:00.

I took a nap at 7 because I was feeling dead. I wake up from what feels like a full medical coma, see 9:00 glowing on my Alexa, and my brain immediately slams the panic button: “Oh shit, you have Econ at 9:30.” (For context, it’s a 20-minute drive to campus.)

No thoughts, no hesitation, just an android executing MorningRoutine.exe at maximum speed.

I got dressed, took my ADHD meds, did my hair, grabbed my stuff, and literally started driving to school like it was a totally normal Tuesday morning. I felt foggy and just… off, but assumed it was because I’d apparently slept for 14 hours. That should’ve been a massive red flag since I’m a 6–7 hours-a-night guy, but every once in a while I “catch up,” so my brain didn’t fight me on it.

Halfway there I’m bumping Kendrick, trying to wake up while waiting for my meds to kick in, but something’s weird… there’s no traffic. At all. This is supposed to be the end of rush hour. My brain slowly boots up, something’s not computing.

I finally check the car clock and it says 9:15… PM. I just sat there like an idiot, staring at it, fully unable to comprehend the sheer scale of my delusion. It felt surreal, like I’d glitched into a parallel universe where time means nothing and routines run themselves.

And since I live alone, there was nobody to stop me. I didn’t question the darkness nor the abundance of cars in the lot of my apartment complex. None of that was important, I had supply and demand to learn about!

So yeah, I got completely ready for school and am now wired on stimulants for a class that doesn’t exist for another 12 hours. I can sometimes sleep on my meds, but definitely not after a two-hour nap and a full morning sequence executed at the wrong end of the day.

Please shame me and laugh at me so I finally learn to double-check the damn clock instead of trusting my half-conscious caveman brain.

TL;DR: Thought it was morning… it’s night, but I took adhd meds and have class in 12 hours.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/tearsdontfallinspace on 2025-11-18 05:29:08+00:00.

Today was a hard day… not only my electricity couldn’t be connected because some issues that I didn’t expect, which means I had to call and postpone everything I booked for moving, and my parents were fighting so hard and left each other awful messages in the family group chat (but I can’t quit at this moment because I still need to talk to them about house moving, and they are coming to stay with me for 2 weeks, short term)

And I booked a birthday cake yesterday for today as it’s birthday of my best friend, and other friends also chipped in together for this cake. I was on the mission of picking it up because all others are at work today, I am off work since I am moving.

I arrived at the bakery shop, and they told me they have made a mistake on the book (it’s a stupid mistake - they wrote on the day before instead of today, and the chef read it as I picked up the cake yesterday) and don’t have the cake I ordered. They tried to ask me if I want alternative cake, or they also have smaller individually wrapped cupcakes. I asked them if they can bake one for me right now, but they said the chef has gone home.

I just started bawling my eyes out.

I feel so embarrassed but I just couldn’t stop, I felt nothing worked today and I am just so sad and so tired, and all my friends will get mad at me for not arranging the cake properly.

I don’t know how - but the person at the shop probably got so scared by seeing me bawling my eyes out over a cake, and somehow arranged a cake for me under 5-10 minutes. Maybe they took the cake pre-ordered for another day for me. And they gave me an extra donut.

I left the shop still couldn’t stop and still feel so embarrassed, I am usually quite well tempered, they probably don’t wanna see me in the shop again.

TL;DR: I bawled my eyes out at a bakery shop over a cake and I felt so embarrassed.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Dramatic_Bowler4793 on 2025-11-18 02:49:29+00:00.

I work at a small tech company where my boss is absolutely obsessed with “optimization.” He tracks his sleep, his nutrition, his bathroom breaks… everything. Meanwhile, I’m barely optimizing my life enough to remember to bring lunch.

Last week, he introduced a new initiative called “Morning Momentum,” where he wanted everyone in the office at 8:45 sharp, energized and ready to start the day together. Problem: I am never on time. Ever. Except, accidentally, one time.

One morning I woke up at 6 a.m. because my upstairs neighbor dropped something that sounded like a bowling ball. Couldn’t go back to sleep, so I got up early, showered, made coffee, sat in silence for 20 minutes contemplating my existence, and arrived at work at… 8:41.

My boss saw me walking in, eyes sparkling like he’d just witnessed the birth of a new era. “YES! This is EXACTLY the energy I want! This is what I’ve been talking about!”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, so I awkwardly gave a thumbs-up.

Fast-forward to this morning. My boss pulls me aside to tell me he’s added me to the “Momentum Leaderboard” as the “model employee” and wants me to speak at next week’s team meeting about my “morning routine.” He said it “clearly changed my life.”

I panic-laughed and said, “Yeah, totally.” Now I have to invent an entire fictional, inspirational morning routine by Wednesday, or confess that my only motivation that day was noise-induced rage and insomnia.

TL;DR: Showed up early to work one time by accident, boss thinks I’m a high-performance productivity guru, now I have to present a fake “inspirational morning routine” to the team.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/AFatherStill on 2025-11-18 00:32:50+00:00.

My grandfather loved his three big Labradors; I think he loved them more than his family. But the old guy fed them the cheapest garbage dog food on earth. The kind that made their turds turn white when they dried. The result of this food was nuclear-level dog farts and turds the size of small loaves of bread.

When I was 11, he made it my chore to clean up the poop and mow the lawn. I figured I could save time by just mowing over the piles of shit. Turns out, when you mow over big, fresh dog turds, they turn into a moist brown mist. The first time they saw me do this, my grandparents put a stop to it.

So, I invented a solution: the doo-doo catapult. Which was literally my grandmother’s spatula from her kitchen drawer.

On chore day, I’d wait for my grandparents to leave the house, then I’d get to work. I’d go outside, fling the dogs’ giant turds over the fence and onto the neighbors’ roof. Perfect aim. Pure roof, every time. They were jerks anyway, so I didn’t feel bad.

One day, after I’d skipped my chores for several weeks, my grandfather got mad and made me get to work. There was several weeks of poop, from three big dogs, it was gross. I was in a huge hurry, my grandparents had left and my friends were waiting out on the street for me. I didn’t check if the neighbors were home, nor did I check my aim. I just started rapid-fire launching turds over the fence.

After a bunch of launches, I froze, people were yelling, screaming and cussing. Our neighbors were outside having a backyard party, a whole bunch of people barbecuing. I had just carpet-bombed the entire thing with dog shit.

When my grandparents got home, the neighbors marched straight over, looking for blood, they were livid. My grandfather spoke with them for a long time, me standing behind him. After he calmed them down, by agreeing that he’d ground me for the rest of my life, the old man glanced back at me, gave the tiniest smile, and winked.

I didn’t get in much trouble. Mostly just a stern talking to from my grandmother. She said to never ever use her spatula again for doo-doo duty. Even my grandmother couldn’t hold back laughing, each time she said “poop,” during her stern talk with me.

They were the greatest grandparents in the world.

TL;DR: I used my grandma’s spatula to catapult dog poop over the fence, didn’t realize the neighbors were having a big party, I bombed the entire gathering with big Labrador turds.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/AliceMorgon on 2025-11-17 19:36:02+00:00.

Important information: I walk using a stick, so I only ever have one hand free at once.

Anyway, today I had multiple errands to run at various stops along the Antrim Road, so rather than waste my whole day waiting for a bus for 15 minutes to the next stop every time (since I can’t walk far) I decided to just book a taxi with multiple stops. Pharmacy, Iceland, the Lodge, the doctor… and the fateful Post Office.

Me and the driver had a grand old time chatting (in Ireland we generally sit in the front seat beside the driver and chat away for the whole trip.) We had a laugh about all the Irish signage controversy nonsense, sang along to the radio after I expressed my opinion that the song was “a certified banger”, and he made cracks at me every time I took a wee while at one of the stops “Youse busy chatting up all those young men were you? Sure you were, I see it all over yer” (in Belfast, mockery and sarcasm is kind of our love language if that makes sense.)

So, we finally get back to my wee house, and as I’m getting out the car with my stick the driver gets out and starts helping me by handing me bags. Lastly, he holds out the fateful cardboard shipping box (which was about the size of a large shoebox) and I reached under it to grab it and balance it over my arm (my view obscured by the large box) and instead grabbed… something else.

The worst part is, I DIDN’T LET GO STRAIGHT AWAY. Somewhere in my mind I just went “hmmm, this doesn’t feel like cardboard” and squeezed it. Then in one horrific moment, I realised exactly what was happening. I was unwittingly groping a Value Cabs driver in front of half the street (which means it’s already all over the New Lodge…) 😩

I whipped my hand back like it was on fire and apologised over and over and over as the taxi driver laughed hysterically, saying “Ach, it’s fine love, most action I’ve seen in years so, although sure I still can’t let you off the fare”, waiting for a hole in the ground to open and swallow me up.

In the end I just grabbed the parcel and fled to cringe in the privacy of my own apartment.

TL;DR: Made friends with my taxi driver during long trip down the Antrim Road, picked up a lot of stuff including a large box from the post office, and accidentally grabbed the taxi driver by the balls trying to take the cardboard box from him.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Happy-Draft-9147 on 2025-11-17 14:15:56+00:00.

TIFU by being a stubborn idiot about hot sauce

so my girlfriends family is from sichuan province in china. theyve been feeding me increasingly spicy food for like six months now. her mom always asks if its too spicy and i always say no because i dont want to look like a wimp

which like. i should have been honest because i have the spice tolerance of a toddler

anyway saturday we went to this hotpot place her family loves. her dad orders and i notice him smiling at me. should have been my first clue

the broth comes out and its literally red. like the color of a stop sign. i can smell it from across the table and my eyes are already watering

my girlfriend whispers "you dont have to eat it" but her whole family is watching and her little brother makes some comment about how white people cant handle real food

so obviously my dumb ass is like "nah im good" and i just start eating

first bite is fine. second bite is fine. by the fifth bite my mouth is on fire but im committed now

i drink like three glasses of water which i know makes it worse but i wasnt thinking. im sweating through my shirt. my girlfriends concerned but also trying not to laugh

her dad asks if i want the mild broth instead and i say no because im an idiot

twenty minutes in i excuse myself to the bathroom and throw up. come back and keep eating. throw up again. come back and keep eating.

my girlfriend is begging me to stop at this point but her family is being all impressed that im "toughing it out" so i keep going

we get home around 9pm and by 10pm im in serious trouble. cant stop throwing up. stomach feels like someones stabbing it. shaking. dizzy

girlfriend wants to take me to the hospital. i say no because im embarrassed. she calls her mom anyway

her mom talks to me for like two minutes and is like "get to the ER now"

turns out i gave myself gastritis. from hot sauce. had to get an IV and they gave me some medication. doctor said i "chemically burned my esophagus and stomach lining"

the nurse asked what i ate and when i told her she just stared at me and said "why would you do that"

i dont have a good answer

my girlfriends family feels terrible even though its 100% my fault. her mom keeps texting me apology messages with crying emojis. her dad sent me a care package with bland soup

my girlfriend wont let me live this down. she keeps calling me "the hotpot incident" like im a historical event

my stomach still hurts. im on this bland diet for two weeks. cant eat anything acidic or spicy. which sucks because i actually do like spicy food just not at the "chemically burn your internal organs" level

so yeah. dont be a stubborn moron about food you clearly cant handle. just admit you need the mild broth. your dignity is not worth gastritis

TL;DR: Tried to impress girlfriends chinese family by eating extremely spicy hotpot despite having no spice tolerance, kept eating after throwing up twice, ended up in the ER with gastritis and a chemically burned esophagus, now on bland diet for two weeks and will never live it down

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/NameLEsstp on 2025-11-16 16:07:34+00:00.

So, I live in an apartment where the walls are thin enough that I can hear my neighbor’s TV, phone calls, and, unfortunately, their parrot. This parrot, very beautiful animal but makes me want to rip my hair out and do things I am not proud to admit. Lets just say, he has become my morning alarm for the last few months.

About 2 weeks ago, I started mocking his sounds back. He’d squawk, I’d squawk. He’d whistle, I’d whistle back. We built up a little routine, kind of like distant, angry roommates communicating through bird calls. Sometimes I would even initiate it, like when I was cooking, I would randomly have a Tourette-like outburst and start squawking loudly. I know this is strange lol.

Yesterday, my neighbor knocked on my door and had a really odd look on her face. Apparently, ever since I started doing my “bird banter,” her parrot has become obsessed with me. I guess I just wasn't in the mood for bird talk the last couple days and went silent. She said he paces and screeches when I stop responding. She even showed me a video, was such an awkward experience. She said he used to have a parrot friend years ago that died, and she thinks it wants some sort of bird companion.

Anyway, she asked me to make a couple bird sounds as she put a treat in its cage to see if it would eat. I reluctantly agreed, and felt humiliated of course, but I went through with it, and sure enough, the little fucker started eating and playing.

Long story short, I became the object of a parrot’s affection, and my neighbor asked if I could “talk to him for a few minutes a day”, even gave preferred times if I'm home. I’ve unintentionally entered a long-distance relationship with a bird.

TLDR: Mocked my neighbor’s parrot, accidentally became his soulmate.

-JM

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Important_Onion8062 on 2025-11-16 10:54:08+00:00.

ive been seeing my therapist for about six months for anxiety and depression. weve talked a lot about my struggles with motivation and finishing projects. ive been trying to write a novel for like three years and keep abandoning it.

last session she asked me to set a goal for the week. i said id try to finish the first draft of my novel. shes been really supportive about this.

today i had my session. i was so excited because i actually finished it. stayed up til 4am last night writing the last chapter. i was exhausted but proud.

i logged into the zoom call and the first thing i said was "i finally did it last night. its done. i feel so much lighter."

my therapist's face went completely white. she leaned forward and very carefully asked "what do you mean you did it."

i said "i stayed up all night and just pushed through. i feel like a huge weight is off me."

she said very slowly "can you tell me exactly what you did."

thats when i realized how this sounded. i started laughing and said "oh my god no i finished my novel. the book. i finished writing it."

she put her hand on her chest and said "jesus christ you scared me. the way you said that i thought—" and then she just started laughing too.

she said when i said "i finally did it" and "its done" and "i feel lighter" she genuinely thought i was confessing to a suicide attempt or something.

we spent like ten minutes just laughing about it but i could tell she was actually shaken. she even asked if i was sure i was okay like three times.

im mortified. my poor therapist probably had a heart attack.

TL;DR: told my therapist "i finally did it last night, its done, i feel lighter" without specifying i meant finishing my novel. she thought i was confessing to something way darker.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/bzoicore on 2025-11-16 02:37:08+00:00.

I was in a meeting where they had lychee jellies (asian supermarket candy aisle staple). I love them and my friend group currently isn’t very asian so when I was told I could pocket some extras I was pretty excited to be able to share a bit of my childhood with all my friends after the meeting. I had to run to rejoin them where they were hanging out, and all the seats are taken so I ended up lying down on the floor and taking off my jacket (with the jellies in them) to catch my breath. As soon as I vaguely recover myself one of my friends walks in and joins us. All he sees is that when I notice him I immediately roll over and prop myself up with one elbow and, in that pose on the floor, slightly out of breath and still flushed, raise my eyebrows (in excitement) and say, “Hey!! do you want some asian candy?” and then continue to grin excitedly without producing any sort of actual candy.

There was a complete pause for a moment, then a lot of laughter at my expense once they realized I wasn’t propositioning him in front of everyone. (He did not, in fact, want my asian candy.)

TL;DR asked my guy friend if he wanted “asian candy” and everyone thought i was referring to myself. gah

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/FloridianMichigander on 2025-11-16 02:11:31+00:00.

We have a monthly department meeting at work, and usually they cater lunch for us on that day. This month's meeting was on Monday, and the catering came from a local BBQ place.

Normally the food arrives about 30 minutes before the official "start" of the meeting, but this month, there was a mix up, and it didn't show up until about 45 minutes into the hour-long meeting.

So, meeting ends, we are all hungry, so we load up our plates and head to the break room to eat. I grab a roll, toss some pulled chicken on it, and grab a scoop of Mac and cheese and some mashed potatoes to go with it. Splash a little bbq sauce on the chicken, and I'm ready to go.

I hadn't eaten all morning, and with the delay in food arriving, I was really hungry. So, my first bite was probably bigger than it should have been, and I didn't chew as much as I should have.

As I swallow, I feel my throat tightening on the food. I think to myself "ok, it just needs a few more swallows and it'll go down." Took a sip of soda to try and help it. Nope, didn't go down.

I rush over to the sink, cough a few times, and spit some food out. At this point, I can breathe, and I think I'm fine, so I go sit down and try another small bite. Nope, not fine. Choking repeats itself.

Now I've pretty much given up on my food, but still coughing quite a bit. Nothing is coming up except saliva, but after a minute or 2, I can down and think I can go back to my desk to keep working for the afternoon.

A sip of water sends me racing to the bathroom where I retch some more. I decide to hide out in the bathroom for a while and hope I can recover. After about 20 minutes, I cautiously try some more water. Nope, still can't swallow anything.

Eventually, I decide I can't just stay in the bathroom all afternoon, and call my wife, who leaves her own job to come pick me up. (I didn't want to try driving with the retching spells every few minutes).

We decide to go to an urgent care, they tell me that there's nothing they can do for me and that I need to go to an ER. (Conveniently, they told me this after they already processed my payment for the copay).

Go to the ER, am seen by the ER doc, they can't do anything, so they send me up to endoscopy. They knocked me out to intubate me, and apparently saw something they didn't like (possibly perforated esophagus), so they had me airlifted to a larger facility where a thoracic surgeon was standing by. He was able to remove the blockage. It's probably 1am by now (I'm not sure if the exact time, I was still under anesthesia)

Next day, CT scan determines that I do not have a perforated esophagus, and they eventually clear me for "clear liquids only" and 1 more night in the hospital for observation. They upgraded me to "full liquid diet", I was dismissed and am now back at home.

Haven't seen a bill yet, but starting to see some of the claims show up in my insurance company portal as "processing". Luckily, I have decent insurance, because some of the amounts are staggering.

TL;DR: are a chicken sandwich, didn't chew properly, trip to the ER, airlifted to a larger facility, 2 nights in the hospital, and now can only consume liquids for another day or so. And medical bills.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Fine_Bet_7495 on 2025-11-16 00:48:46+00:00.

Like the title says tifu by taking a pregnancy test with my friend and I did not hide the evidence very well. So my friend (19) just got back from a trip about 2 weeks ago where she spent almost a month with her bf and today she called me up a little scared and told me that her period is late. She doesn’t want to take a pregnancy test at her house, bc she still lives with her strict parents, and asked if she could come over and take one, I have my own apt, so like a good friend I said ofc. So she gets to my place and we take that trip to Walgreens where she asks if I’ll take one with her bc she is scared and has never done one before, I have taken a couple I am in a long term relationship and my period is irregular and I like to be cautious. We get the goods and head back to my place to do the business. Both came out negative so we are both in the clear, but here is where I messed up instead of being smart and burying the tests in the trash or hiding the where they can’t be seen I just throw them away and think nothing of it. Later in the day my parents stopped by to hang out bc they were in town and like any normal person they use the bathroom. And in the bathroom ARE THE 2 PREGNANCY TESTS SITTING OUT FOR EVERYONE TO SEE. Well they were there I had completely forgot about them until after they left and I was cleaning my car and I randomly remembered. I sprinted back inside to take a look and sure enough they were right there looking at me. Now I can’t say they didn’t see them but I and really hoping they didn’t bc I don’t want to have that awkward conversation.

Yes my man knows about the prego tests and he doesn’t really care about them but he finds it hilarious that my parents most likely saw prego tests in there daughters trash.

TL;DR: My friend and I took prego tests and instead of hiding them I left them on the top of the trash and my parents came over and most likely saw them.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/CecilyRider on 2025-11-14 00:19:40+00:00.

Be shocked because this actually happened today lol. I’ve been getting fertility sparing treatment for uterine cancer. The definitive treatment is a hysterectomy but I’ve been doing hormonal treatment instead in case I decided I wanted biological kids. Well I recently decided I don’t want biological kids so let’s just stop the treatment and yank the whole thing out. No more yearly (extremely painful) biopsies, no more periods, no more worry about going out of remission, and no more Pap smears!

The fuck up was the way I informed my doctor of this. Keep in mind she’s an oncology doctor and probably deals with dying people on the daily. Keep this in mind because I did not. The way I informed her of my decision was to say “I think I want to call it quits.” Cue silence and her eyes widening in shock. I quickly realized my mistake and blurted out “I mean I want a hysterectomy, I want to call it quits on the treatment!”

She was so worried and then so relieved. I could see her looking at my paperwork where it asks the suicide risk questions that I’d answered no to lol.

TLDR: tifu by making my doctor think I wanted to “call it quits” on life when what I really wanted was to stop fertility sparing treatment for cancer.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/WorkingRecent385 on 2025-11-13 19:51:52+00:00.

We had a company dinner, and my boss brought her husband, who honestly looked really stylish, clean suit, great hair, just overall put-together. I’d had two glasses of wine and said, “Wow, your husband’s hot, uh, I mean handsome! I mean, like, good fashion sense!”

Everyone at the table laughed, and my boss jokingly said, “Hands off, he’s taken.” I wanted to disappear.

Later, when people started leaving, her husband said, “Thanks for the ego boost,” and winked. My coworkers won’t stop teasing me. I now have a new Slack nickname: “HR’s Favorite.” This is so embarrassing like I don’t want to go to work anymore and just quit the job and just stay at home

TL;DR: Tried to compliment my boss’s husband’s outfit, accidentally called him hot in front of everyone.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Ali-oopsies on 2025-11-13 17:56:10+00:00.

First update with link to original: https://www.reddit.com/r/tifu/s/aVI8C825Mb

It’s been so long now I doubt anyone remembers the original post or update, but I decided to come back and give my year (and a lot of change) update on my silly situation!

On my first two posts, people came at me insanely hard about how I was making a stupid choice and I was going to get taken advantage of by a for-profit school, because I wasn’t sure how exactly everything was going to work with my credentials and financial aid, etcetera. Well, I think you will be happy (or maybe disappointed..?) to know that, despite a lot of negativity, I kept my head up and I am going to an accredited university since last Summer!

I worked out finding my credentials to send in to admissions after a lot of exasperated searching and emails back and forth from schools and government departments. Financial aid has paid for most of my tuition so far, so I have been lucky and so grateful for that. I am a now a sophomore still majoring in psychology with a concentration in clinical and counseling, and I have since taken on another major in political science, as well as a minor in philosophy; and I currently have a 3.77 GPA. I am doing a research assistantship this semester and the next, as well as participating in research projects outside of RAships. This has been a great experience already so far, and I am so glad I didn’t let people get to me about it!

TL;DR: Despite much doubt all around, I am a college student at an accredited university, and I am kicking ass! 💪

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/zelenaky on 2025-11-13 13:24:02+00:00.

Reddit recently suggested this sub to me and I thought that it would be a fun distraction from work. No work, no politics, just pure relaxation.

I opened a few threads to laugh at the miseries of the various OPs who had screw ups only to realize that they were ultimately rather minor and not really a fuck up. I thought that something was wrong here so I dug into their profiles.

That's when I realized that something was off - most of the posters had accounts that were less than a month old and the way they typed their posts all had this same strange issue - no author's voice, no replies to the comments, their presence just a whisper on Reddit after their posts.

I started asking in the comments, "Is this AI slop?" Only to be confronted with an angry mob swarming upon me like an angry swarm of Elon fanboys.

"Shut up stupid", "You're too negative OP".

By now it was too late. Like a silent leech silently leeching onto my brain, my Reddit feed was slowly being overtaken by a constant stream of unbelievable AI slop posts, each with screw ups that was lesser than a mailman misplacing his glass of milk.

Save me.

TL;DR: Mods please fix subreddit.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/beatriceyue on 2025-11-13 07:39:42+00:00.

So my smart lock lets you use any 6-digit code. Didn't want to be something obvious,so I let it to the last six digits of my phone number. One day my friend asked,what's your door code again? My brain instead of just saying the 6 digits,I went: "Oh it's just my full phone number" She took that to mean all 10 digits. And she never questioned it.

Every time she came over, she’d stand at my door like she was trying to hack into the Pentagon typing all 10 digits, slowly… then fast… then whispering them like a spell.

Door stays locked. She tries again. And again. At one point she squinted at the keypad like it personally betrayed her family.

Meanwhile the REAL code was literally just the last six digits.

She kept saying, Your smart lock is so moody. And I was like, Yeah… technology, huh.

She found out yesterday when she saw me unlock it in two seconds.

I have never seen such pure betrayal. I owe her dinner. Possibly therapy.

TL;DR: Told my friend my smart lock code was my full 10-digit phone number even though it was just the last 6 digits. She fought my door for months thinking the lock was “moody,” and now she knows I’m the problem.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/vintagefancollector on 2025-11-13 01:32:54+00:00.

I've been subscribed to this subreddit for multiple years, probably since this account's inception many years ago. Never bothered to read this subreddit regularly, until I pruned my subreddit subscriptions to a much-more-manageable amount. So i began reading through here more regularly.

I enjoyed reading through the TIFUs here, some even made me laugh out loud due to the ridiculousness or goofiness (especially the diarrhoea stories or loud farting LOL) Unless it was such a bad FU that I could feel the second-hand embarrassment through my screen, or if I could relate a bit too much cause I had fucked up in similar ways before.

And then came the hottest new trend in big tech that was once impressive and had the Wow factor, but is now being shoved down everyones' throats everywhere you go. I started seeing posts that felt a little too made up and hard to believe, or their writing style was weird and alien. Reading the posts helped me put my finger on it: AI was writing those bullshit stories for karma farming!

I held out for a while but became increasingly frustrated that nothing was being done to filter these out. Just today I came across two of those fake AI generated stories and thought "that's it, expect EVERY story here to be AI written".

My only saving grace is the other commenters calling it out. Keep up the good fight, you all!

TL:DR I watched this subreddit fall victim to AI written garbage

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Frosty-Mine-5975 on 2025-11-12 19:12:35+00:00.

I got off a red-eye flight at 5 AM, exhausted and zombified. My bag was one of those basic black roller types, identical to about half the luggage on the carousel. I grabbed one that looked right and Ubered home.

Two hours later, I opened it and froze. Inside was a wedding dress, men’s dress shoes, and a bottle of champagne. Not mine. Panic set in.

I raced back to the airport, praying the owner hadn’t already filed a report. Thankfully, I found a frantic guy pacing near baggage claim with my suitcase. Turns out the wedding dress was his fiancée’s, and they were flying to their ceremony that afternoon.

We swapped bags, and I apologized about fifty times. He said, “Man, if you’d ruined our wedding, I’d haunt you forever.” Fair.

TL;DR: Grabbed the wrong suitcase and almost ruined someone’s wedding.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Yevgen_sir on 2025-11-12 18:19:23+00:00.

This is the one mistake I will never forgive myself for. It happened six months ago, but I wake up thinking about it every single day.

My dog, Lancelot, was a Golden Retriever, my absolute best friend for 14 years. In his last year, he grew weaker, but his eyes still lit up whenever I grabbed his leash.

On Sunday evening, we were supposed to do his "regular" loop around the park. But the weather was miserable—a cold, biting wind and a steady drizzle. I looked at Lancelot, who was already struggling on his feet, and decided I would be "doing him a favour."

I thought, "Why make him suffer in that damp air? Tomorrow it will be sunny, and we’ll go for a long, proper walk." I cancelled his outing, took him for a quick "business" trip in the yard, and hugged him tight. I was convinced I was being smart. I was a fool who believed in "tomorrow."

But tomorrow never came.

On Monday morning, his condition drastically worsened, and he couldn't even stand up. We rushed to the vet, and I already knew the verdict. At the clinic, holding him as he passed, I couldn't think of anything but that miserable evening.

My screw-up isn't that he died; that was his illness. My TIFU is that I robbed him of the final chance to feel the grass under his paws and one last opportunity to smell the world. I was too "logical" and too cowardly to take him on that farewell walk.

Now I come home to an empty apartment. I can still smell him on the old couch. And I will never stop regretting not putting on that damn raincoat and giving him those final fifteen minutes.

TL;DR: My 14-year-old dog, Lancelot, had less than a day left to live, and I cancelled his last walk because of cold weather, thinking "tomorrow" would be better. Tomorrow never came. I can't forgive myself for missing that final chance to say a proper goodbye.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/QuotableConservative on 2025-11-12 18:00:03+00:00.

I’ve been working in veterinary medicine for about five years now, all of it in an emergency setting. It’s fast-paced, unpredictable, and often emotionally draining, but it’s also incredibly rewarding and honestly? Fun. For most of that time, I’ve worked as a receptionist, the first person clients see when they come rushing through the door, panicked about their fur baby. Recently, though, I started doing a bit more: helping with holds, assisting during x-rays, and learning the hands-on parts of patient care. It’s been exciting, exhausting, and everything in between. I really feel like I'm on my way to getting some great experience.

When you work in emergency vet med long enough, you start to notice patterns. You know which symptoms mean trouble, which ones can wait, and which ones almost always trace back to a certain cause. One of the most common things we see is: dogs coming in high on weed. I’m not exaggerating when I say it happens all the time. Sometimes someone will rush in and I can look at the dog and go, "Aw. Weed?" That's how routine it is. (also, side thought, it may also be the area I live in, inner city like, known for drugs, etc.)

Dogs absolutely love the stuff. If an owner leaves their edibles, joints, or even just crumbs of the plant where an unattended puppy can reach them, odds are, that dog’s going to eat it. It's like a magnet, ya'll.

When it happens, the symptoms are usually easy to spot: they get wobbly on their feet, sometimes peeing on themselves because they lose a bit of coordination. They often get lethargic and sometimes they’ll flinch dramatically when you move too fast near them. It can look scary if you’ve never seen it before, but once you have, you’ll never mistake it for anything else again.

In fact, it’s become almost a running joke at work. I’ve walked to the back before and said, “Hey, I think we’ve got a weed dog up front, regular symptoms.” The techs know exactly what I mean. Within minutes, someone’s grabbing a drug test, another person’s pulling fluids and Cerenia (our go-to anti-nausea medication), and the team gets ready to handle the situation. It’s such an average part of our week that I can usually call it before the vet even takes a look. And honestly, I’m rarely wrong. Not trying to brag, but if you’ve seen a high dog once, you just know. I hate to say it's funny, but bless their little hearts.

One night, we got a call that started out like plenty others. A man was on the other end, voice trembling, clearly on the verge of tears. His dog had gotten into some weed while they were out, and he was panicking. He kept saying he was a terrible owner, and that he didn’t know what to do.

So I did what I always do... I tried to calm him down. I told him that it happens all the time, that dogs love the taste, and that it doesn’t make him a bad pet parent. I explained what we typically see: they get wobbly, sleepy, and maybe pee themselves, but most of them come out of it just fine. I told him the next step was to call the Pet Poison Helpline. They have actual toxicologists on staff who can give detailed advice based on the amount ingested, the size of the dog, and the specific product involved. Unfortunately, that call does cost money, but it’s worth it for accurate guidance. Plus, if you bring in an inappropriate ingestion dog, we have you call Pet Poison right there in the office. The doctors prefer that.

Anyway, I also explained that our clinic was closing soon, and since his dog was already showing symptoms, we couldn’t induce vomiting anymore. Once the weed’s been metabolized, there’s not much we can do other than supportive care: fluids, Cerenia, a dark room, and time. That’s standard procedure in vet med. I told him that if Pet Poison recommended further care, he’d need to go to a 24-hour facility so his dog could be monitored overnight. He thanked me, audibly relieved, and said I had calmed him down more than anyone else could. I even laughed and told him, “Seriously, don’t beat yourself up. You’re not alone, this happens way more than people realize.”

A few days later, I found out that this pet owner was actually friends with the clinic owner. He’d called him to tell him how grateful he was for my help. He said I had made him feel human again, like he wasn’t the worst pet owner in the world, and that I’d taken the time to explain things clearly and kindly when he was at his wit’s end.

So imagine my shock when I was called into the office... and fired.

Apparently, they were framing it as me “giving medical advice over the phone.”

Completely blindsided. I had done what I’d done countless times before... followed our protocol, directed the client to Pet Poison, and advised them to seek emergency care if needed. I didn’t diagnose anything, didn’t tell him to medicate, didn’t make a treatment plan. I just reassured a panicked pet owner and provided general information based on established procedure. But because this client happened to be connected to the clinic owner, suddenly my compassion and competence were being twisted into “unauthorized medical advice.”

I can’t even describe how heartbreaking it feels. I loved my job, absolutely fucking loved it. I loved the chaos, the adrenaline, the animals, even the anxious owners. I was good at it, too. I know how to keep my cool, how to explain things in a way that made sense, how to make people feel a little less terrified when their world was falling apart. And now, it’s just… gone.

I know it’s not the end of the world, and once I stop crying, I’ll pick myself up and start job hunting again. But it’s hard not to feel betrayed by a field that I’ve poured my heart into for years. All I wanted to do was help, help the animal, help the owner, help the situation. And somehow, doing exactly that is what cost me my job.

Maybe someday I’ll look back on this and see it as a turning point. Maybe I’ll find a clinic that values empathy as much as efficiency. But for now, I’m just trying to breathe, grieve, and remind myself that one bad decision by management doesn’t erase five years of hard work and care.

TL;DR Gave "medical advice" over the phone and got fired from the best job I've ever had. Can't stop crying.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/MerryStanza on 2025-11-12 16:36:37+00:00.

Got to the park early to meet my sister and my nephew, her kid’s six, loud, runs everywhere, always in this bright blue jacket. I see a kid wearing one just like it sprinting toward the swings and my brain instantly goes yep that’s him so I yell his name across the whole playground.

The kid turns around and it was DEFINITELY not him. I just freeze for a second and blurt out “ohhh that’s not him” way too loud and immediately three parents turn their heads like I’ve just confessed to a crime. The kid’s still staring, I’m standing there halfway through a wave trying to look non threatening.

I grab my phone and start fake scrolling like I suddenly got a super important text, just anything to look occupied. My brain’s screaming act natural while my body’s choosing full statue mode.

Two minutes later my sister shows up with my actual nephew and ofc the fucker's wearing a red hoodie today instead of his normal blue jacket.

I didn’t even say anything I just sat down and thought maybe I should only interact with people who have name tags from now on.

TL;DR: Yelled at a random kid in the park thinking he was my nephew, terrified some parents, then my actual nephew showed up in a completely different outfit. I might retire from public interaction.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/MarxistMountainGoat on 2025-11-12 14:50:56+00:00.

I'm trying to up my veggie intake so for dinner I thought, why not a kale salad? I added 2 cups of raw kale to a bowl with chicken sausage, carrot sticks, an egg, red onion, mushrooms, cubed cheese, and balsamic, blissfully unaware that 2 hours later I would be experiencing excruciating gut pain. Turns out you're supposed to introduce dark leafy greens to your diet slowly because they're so high in fiber that they can shock your digestive system, and that's exactly what happened to me. What started off as some minor gas pain while I scrolled through Tiktok on my phone quickly turned into me doubled over, writhing and curled up into a ball feeling like I was going to puke from the pain in my disgetive tract. It felt like someone was stabbing my intestines and colon repeatedly with a knife until I eventually ran to the toilet and... Yeah. Now I'm lying here and the worst pain has passed but I'm still feeling very sore. I will definitely eat less raw kale the next time I make a salad.

TL;DR: I ate too much kale and the fiber content shocked my gut like a defibrillator was being pressed to my insides.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Chronically_Unloved on 2025-11-12 12:59:19+00:00.

For context, I walk 2.5 miles each way to get to and from work. At the beginning of the week, it started snowing, so I pulled my boots out of storage, threw them on, and went to work. I hadn't worn them in six months and didn't even think to make sure they were in tact. The first couple days they worked fine, but apparently there was a small hole where the sole meets the rest of the shoe I didn't notice. On the third day, a rock found its way into the hole and made it bigger until the side of the shoe was flapping with every step. No biggie, it's slightly annoying but I assume it'll be fine til I get home after my shift. Once at work I change into my work outfit and honestly forget about the issue until I put my boots back on at the end of the day. It still seems manageable. That is, until I'm 0.25 miles into my walk on the side of the highway and the whole bottom of the boot rips of. I have no duct tape or anything to reattach it until I get home. It is 32⁰F, feels like 27⁰f, and lightly snowing with a slight breeze. Am I a dumbass? Yes. Am I gonna get frostbite and lose the foot? Quite possibly. Was my first thought to post to Reddit and share my misery? You bet. For now, I just keep walking and pray to all possible God's, Goddesses, and other higher powers I can save the foot.

TL;DR I didn't make sure my boots was intact, now I may get frostbite.

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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Effective-Web-3818 on 2025-11-10 05:06:23+00:00.

I work remotely, and my apartment complex has been doing construction all week. So today, I threw on my noise-cancelling headphones to drown it out. They work too well.

About an hour later, I noticed flashing lights outside my window, police cars. I take my headphones off and realize the fire alarm has been going off for who knows how long. Everyone’s outside, half the building evacuated, and I’m just sitting there coding like an idiot.

When I finally ran out, one firefighter said, “Glad you made it, man. We were about to break in.” Apparently, they’d already been knocking on doors for 10 minutes.

No fire, thankfully, someone burned popcorn. But now everyone in my building knows me as “that guy who almost died coding.”

TL;DR: My noise-cancelling headphones worked so well I missed a full building evacuation.