Duct cleaning near me

is this thing on?
testing, mic check, 1, 2, 3. bush did 9/11 jet fuel doesn’t melt steel beams.
i’m going to start with the fact that i don’t really know what the fuck i’m doing back on this website. it’s been ages and a day since my last rp. long enough that i can’t even remember my old account info oopsie.
i’m a pretty chill human being. i am looking for another chill entity to have an active rp with- human beings preferred, but hey, i’m open minded. as long as you can type up a couple decent paragraphs, we’re gravy.
more about me * late 20’s * she/her * pacific standard time zone * draining full-time job * the proud owner of a life outside of the internet
the important stuff

• doubling/multiple characters preferred but not mandatory
• m/f or f/f preferred but will do m/m if doubling
• real images and or written descriptions
• discord only for ic and ooc
• will not play a canon for you unless we are doubling
• posts at least once a week, if it’s less active i will most likely drop

the really important stuff
obviously, this is a fandom search for the last of us. i'm leaning heavily on the hbo max tv adaptation for this. however, while i haven't personally played the games, i've watched the husband play through it a number of times so i'm also familiar with video game dynamics.
i’d prefer strictly oc's for this but i am open to canons. i am generally willing to try to play most canons for this series. a note: if you want me to play joel for your oc, i request we double.
pairings: joel x tess joel x oc tess x oc ellie x female oc tommy x oc bill x frank oc x oc
writing sample - female oc tlou intro
Time had lost its meaning since the infected first started spreading. Twenty years had gone by painfully slow, although oftentimes in the moment it felt like the blink of an eye.
This was not one of these moments.
No. This moment, in particular, had been stretched out for going on twelve days, although with the massive amounts of blood loss she experienced in those first few days, and the lack of anything in her stomach aside from a few granola bars she had on her person still and her final canteen of water she’d gone through yesterday, Millie couldn’t be certain what day of wasting away to her death she was actually on.
Obsessively cleaning the lingering leg wound she picked up from the deadly skirmish with an unknown street gang that left her high and dry could only get her so far when she simply didn’t have the supplies to go on. Despite her best attempts, attempts she worked hard for by crawling in the first days to her supplies, she could feel an infection spreading inside of her. As pale as her skin was, the flush of warmth underneath her skin was concerning, signaling a fever she couldn’t quite confirm. The wound sight, a bullet hole in her lower calf, was swollen and painful and oozing through bandages that begged to be changed.
The irony that she was dying in a church, a place she vowed she would never step foot in alive again, wasn’t lost on her at first but with the blurring of her vision and the fog on her head, it now was. Everything that wasn’t reminding herself how to take deep breaths and tensing at every sudden sound was lost. Soon she would be lost, too, and Millie hadn’t exactly come to peace with that but she was getting close to acceptance without bitterness.
Hope was a troublesome thing, however.
When she first heard large metal doors open and close shut, she assumed the worst. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Millie tried to make herself appear smaller in the curled up ball she was in. Dirty hair pulled from her bun ages ago covered her face, and she rolled into the floor, grimacing at the slight movement to her leg. The intruder was too quiet to be a walker and so she expected to see the same gang from before come back to prowl, find her and finish her off in what she was sure would be a delight to them and eternal hell for her.
Instead of assault, however, the tall brooding man who came across her offered her water.
Any inclination she had to attack was gone, leaked out of her like her blood and her sense. She could only stand to glare at him for a matter of seconds before she forced herself to sit up, leaning her back against a pew. She reached out greedily for the canister, mumbling her gratitude in German involuntarily from her sudden rush of euphoria.
“Gesundheit.”
Bless you.
She drank too much of his supply but she simply couldn’t stop herself until it became hard for her to breath. That labored breathing was apparent once she pried the bottle from her lips and forced herself to hand it back to him. Millie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and coughed so hard it pulled at her lungs.
“Millie,” she finally answered his question. And it took a few seconds, but eventually she got her brain working to scramble together the Russian that mimicked his same question to her.“Kto ty?”
Who are you?

I am a duosex non-binary person and I really want MLD phallo with uL and burial without vagectomy(idk how to spell it) and I want to keep my uterus. but I am also a size (queen/king/whatever) and I don’t wanna lose that ability and I’m trying to decide what to do. I love the aesthetic of buried and to be able to pee standing up plus the possibility to feel (erotically) when I penetrate my partner. But I feel without burial would let me be able to keep my size thing going on but then I don’t like how it is aesthetically I can’t feel penetration with it and it’s just more work I feel to clean the neophallus, t dick, and the front hole , instead of just penis and front hole. (If that makes sense it’s just more maneuvering) (Over all having a penis and front hole would be helpful with my bottom dysphoria but I do like the sex I’m currently having)
I just want some ideas anything I really want phallo once I finish college or when I’m around 26-30.

So 3 months ago I quit my half academic/half industry job that made me want to scream and brought me to a near burn out due to the lack of progress and constant micro managing by a rather problematic boss. No regrets there.
I found myself a menial job. It pays the bills. The place is horrendously organised and they have no structure to speak of, but the salary (barely) covers my bills and there are perks (free gym and spa, for example). It’s boring, but since I’m a bit more savvy than most of the employees in my position, they’ve started to give me some responsibilities (without pay-raise so far, obviously, barely out of my trial period).
Now some academic friends have come to me saying “hey didn’t you want to put forward this cool project where you’ll be your own boss for once in this particular academic field you’re so interested in? They’re having an open call for grants in this institution for it…”
So now I’m pitching the idea to two host laboratories tomorrow. For a grant application deadline in about 6 months. For an answer 6 or 8 months after that. If it works? I’m set for four years in a project I will lead in a field I fucking love.
If it doesn’t work? I’ll officially be washed out of academia I think. I’ll have invested a lot of time and a lot of effort into a passion work that so often doesn’t pay me anything. But I’ll always have the menial job that pays the bills, and that is not to be neglected. Security is a luxury that I am grateful for - I was lucky to find a job to fall back into to start with.
Anyway my head is spinning, stressed about tomorrow, and seriously considering whether I am insane for inflicting this upon myself.
I need a glass of wine.

--- Table of Contents ---
Autumn 4986, 16 Aoimoth
Shon slid down the side of a tree to the ground and watched the tower burn. Ivelm did a circle of it, dousing the surrounding trees with his water wand, while Nangran inspected the few bodies he could reach without burning himself. At one point, he tried to pull a corpse further from the fire only to have its arms snap off at the shoulder, meat pulling away from the bone like a well-cooked turkey.
Somewhere in the back of Shon’s mind, he knew he should be sickened by the sights and smells. When they first stepped through the portal, he‘d had to hold back retching from the scent of smoking hair and cooking flesh. Now he could hardly muster the energy to keep breathing. He took long and slow, but shallow breaths. As if he were about to fall asleep despite the horror before him.
So much death. Shon had never seen a dead person before. Though he wasn’t sure if these still counted, so blackened they could almost be mistaken for macabre statues... if it wasn’t for the smell.
“What was going on here ‘Elm?” Nangran demanded of Ivelm as the mage rounded the other side of the tower and rejoined them.
Ivelm sheathed his water wand, pulling forth the diamond-studded wand again. He didn’t answer.
Nangran growled, grabbing Ivelm's arm as it rose to point the wand toward the forest. The Archmage shook him off and spun, his robes fluttering around him as he gestured angrily at the fire, “I don’t know, Flintchest. This tower was supposed to be empty, abandoned. I’m the only Mage with authorization to set up in this area.” he pointed his wand over Shon’s shoulder and spat something indistinct. A rush of cool air flowed from behind accompanied by shouting and armor clanking. Knights running.
Shon rolled limply to the side, planning to stand but finding his arms shaking as he tried to push himself up. Boots stomped around him as Paladins flooded from the magical gate into the clearing. Shon managed to lift his head, though even his neck seemed to be rebelling against his attempts at holding himself up. His vision swimming, he saw Major General Selibra and Master Daunas step through the portal, their mouths agape.
Shon’s arms gave out from under him, and he fell to the side, hearing as if from a great distance, “Squire! Shon… Shon… Nangran, what happened?” From the ground he could see the girl, now wrapped in Nangran’s cloak, leaning against the side of his tree. When had they brought her there? Why hadn’t he noticed?
“He’s fine.” Ivelm’s voice, Shon couldn’t see anymore, so he closed his eyes, “He’ll wake up in a few days. Hell of a Sorcerer that one…” No… no, no, no... he wasn’t a Sorcerer. He was a Squire. He would be a Paladin… For a brief moment, a flicker of an image played in Shon's mind. He saw himself lying on the muddy ground, Master Daunas knelt by his head, and Ivelm spit off to the side. Then, only the sweet relief of darkness as he passed out.
***
“Any other survivors?” Sir Selibra’s soft voice drifted through the darkness.
“Only the girl,” Daunas whispered from nearby.
“I doubt she’s human,” Ivelm spoke loudly, and Shon flinched, his head pounding as the mage didn’t bother to keep his voice low, “No fire-resist spell should have lasted in that heat. Even fire Sorcerers can't survive melting stone.”
“She looks human.” a fourth voice, the Hamerfoss Cleric. Shon couldn’t move. The light filtering through his eyelids sent stabs of pain into his head, making it hard for him to concentrate. He tried to lift a hand to cover his eyes, but the limb wouldn’t obey his call.
“And a table looks like it’s made of wood but does that mean it’s still a tree?” Ivelm snorted, and something wet splattered on stone.
“Archmage, please, this is an infirmary…” the Cleric said, shocked.
The mage didn’t apologize and continued to speak at full volume, “Whatever was going on out there it wasn’t sanctioned by the Guild, and that girl has most certainly been subject to experimentation. Those scales? That hair?” he spat again.
“Archmage, please…”
“Let’s take this outside, shall we?” Sir Selibra said, and three pairs of boots thumped away, a door swinging open. Sir Selibra’s voice retreated as they left the infirmary still in conversation, “We have sent for the Temple and Guild. They should be here shortly.” The boots left, and the door closed again.
Only one pair of feet remained, shuffling around the room before the rustling of curtains being pulled closed accompanied the sweet relief of darkness. Shon steeled himself and forced his eyes to open just a crack. More pain. He closed them again, his ears ringing. With a slow breath, he tried again, blinking in the weak light filtered through the cloth covering infirmary window.
A groan slipped from his lips, and the Cleric rushed to his bedside, “Don’t try to sit up, Squire. You’re drained, but unhurt,” which seemed a direct contradiction to Shon’s pounding head. The Cleric continued, “After a bit of sleep, you should be fine…” Shon let his head fall to the side, wanting to look away from the window, and saw a second bed, where a girl with golden hair slept.
“It happens to Paladins too, you know. You have to be careful not to expend too much of your own energy when casting magic…” the Cleric continued to talk, busying himself by checking Shon's vitals, “It’s inevitable, but with practice, you can mitigate some of the effects…” She was the only survivor, and she had been experimented on… “After you take your Oath, you'll receive training in divine magic…” even if she was okay physically, would she be alright mentally?... “For now, just rest. You did well. It’s thanks to you the girl got out alive…”
Shon closed his eyes. Thanks to him? Nangran had seen the smoke, Ivelm had taken them there. He… he hadn’t known what to do, had frozen at the sights and smells. He'd formed a path of ice, but the girl hadn’t been burning… Her feet had melted his ice... Shon let himself drift back to sleep. He wasn’t a hero. Not yet.
***
The tower was supposed to be empty. General Rasnah and the Mages Guild had combed through their records finding that the building had been abandoned over fifty years ago; when the old alchemist living there passed away. Archmage Ivelm reported that he'd surveyed the tower twenty years previous, before setting up his lab miles further south.
“Having a tower like that is practically begging for wanna-be-apprentices to come interrupt you. Looking for a teacher and free room.” he'd explained, with obvious disgust at the idea, even spitting on the floor of Sir Selibra’s office.
Sir Rasnah personally led the Temple Paladins and Guild Mages through a gate from Smilnda to Hamerfoss and from there to the ruins of the mysterious tower. Mages and Paladins crawled together over the still-smoking remains, now a mear hill. Trying to break apart the stones that had melted together and find anything that could explain what had happened here. Bodies covered in white cloth lay in lines along the edge of the forest, ten in total, though how many had been trapped in the tower was still unknown.
The Clerics of Lune would identify the bodies, though she wished they could do more than just give names. It would take months, possibly years, to scour the records to determine who these poor souls had been in life. And more years besides to track their movements through the meticulous paperwork kept by the kingdom.
She could practically hear Veon-Zih snickering at her, ‘Silly Ras, you gave up the battlefield of blood and stone for one of words and paper…’ she shook her head, banishing thoughts of the Monk. This work would be just as important. How else would those fighting the physical battles find their enemies without information and resources? And yet… She rested her hand on her sword with a sigh, “Some retirement…”
“Sir Rasnah,” a female Mage with dark hair and tan skin approached from the tower, “We found the basement…” she looked over her slumped shoulders back at the pile of melted rock.
“Not as promising a find as we'd hoped?” Rasnah asked, arching her steely eyebrow at the Mage. What had her name been? Vevi…
To her credit, the woman straightened her shoulders and answered clearly, “Oftentimes, we learn as much from a rejected hypothesis as a failed-to-be-rejected hypothesis.” As Rasnah tried to wrap her mind around what in the hells that meant, the Mage continued, “We had hoped that the basement level would be relatively unscathed as heat should rise to destroy the upper levels and possibly spare the lower…”
Those were words the Paladin understood at least, but they implied bad news, “And that wasn’t the case?”
The Mage sighed, “It was. The fire behaved as fire always does, barring external influence,”
“Mage Vevi, I admire your Guild's desire for specificity, but please, get to the point.”
Vevi blinked then shook herself, saying, “Evidence suggests that the fire started in the basement and that the heat there was far greater than we assumed.” Rasnah arched an eyebrow at the woman again and the Mage threw her hands into the air, “It looks more like a cavern carved by pure magma. Nothing but melted stones remain in the form of caves we can only guess were originally rooms.”
“Damn,” Rasnah gripped her sword and glared past the Mage toward the tower, “So we have no way of knowing what they were doing.” The girl still hadn’t woken up. What were the chances that she had any information of value? Archmage Ivelm was convinced that she'd been the subject of magical experimentation. Would those who had abused her also give her information?
“We have one way,” Vevi interrupted Rasnah’s worries, and the Paladin focused on her again. The Mage turned away, motioning to some of her fellows standing near the bodies. An old man with a bent back and shuffling gait split from the group and approached slowly. Rasnah had to resist the urge to walk to him just to speed up the process.
“Sir Rasnah, this is Archmage Meshed, our divination master.” Vevi introduced the old man while he was still a few steps away, “There is a chance we will be able to obtain some information from the tower remains. Though I’m afraid it might not be as clear and concise as you wish. Divination often creates more questions than answers.”
“I am well acquainted with the frustrations of interpreting symbols and signs…” Rasnah led, unsure of the value in this new idea. Arcane magic didn't get its power from a higher intelligence or any god, it utilized the natural magic and energies running through the world and every object in it, manipulating them with precise words and symbols directed by human will. It was all well over her head.
Meshed’s laugh turned into a dry cough. He cleared his throat, “I think you will find, Mage Vevi, Sir Paladin, that the information I will glean from this place to be far more clear and concise than you are accustomed to. It simply won’t be as complete as you wish.”
With a groan and many popping joints, he sat down on the ground, fishing through his robes and pulling out a small bag. From it, he withdrew a massive tome and a silk cloth that Vevi quickly helped spread on the ground before him. Next came a censor and many jars of herbs and incense, which, after checking his book, he carefully measured before pouring into the censor.
He waved a hand towards the tower without looking up from his work, “Stones, please, Vevi. Choose wisely, I don’t want to do this all day…” Despite being a senior Mage, well on her way to Archmage, Vevi rushed off towards the tower herself and eventually returned with two fist-sized stones.
“One from the upper floors and one from the basement, Meshed,” she explained, handing them to the Divination Master. Meshed pulled a set of brass scales from his small pouch, measuring the stones and muttering to himself as he adjusted the volume of herbs in the censor.
He placed the first stone with the herbs, and his eyes glazed over, “A light if you will.” Vevi performed some complicated motion with her hands, flicking her fingers forward at the end with a muttered word. A spark of flame appeared over the censor, lowering onto the herbs and setting them alight. Smoke billowed in a gray noxious cloud, and Rasnah covered her nose as Meshed began to chant.
He ran his hand through the smoke, which wrapped around his fingers, and continued skyward. “No divine magic was cast here…” he mumbled, moving his hand again. The smoke shifted above his fingers as they passed, creating images of people in robes leaning over books, “Arcane magic…” Obviously. Still, for some reason, his brow furrowed. He passed his hand through again, and the smoke turned nearly black. Before Rasnah could make out any shapes Meshed pulled his hand away and shook it violently before rubbing it on his robe, “Warlocks, Sir Paladin.”
“Damn.” Rasnah smothered more colorful curses and managed a half step closer, “What were they doing, Archmage?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he chanted a new spell, and his hand glowed with a soft red light. Reaching into the censor, he plucked out the stone and replaced it with the second. The smoke again turned gray and rose lazily into the air. Once again, he passed his hand through the flowing tendrils, and once again, they turned black. He shook his head, “Obviously… damnation… what to ask… what to ask…” He seemed to settle on something, muttering, “The fire, tell me about the fire…” he ran his fingers through the smoke. Flames leaped from the censor, the smoke turning red and billowing out before them.
Rasnah stepped back as great smoke wings spread wide, illuminated from below by flames. A horned head atop a sinuous neck stretched for the heavens and Meshed scrambled to his feet. Vevi kicked the censor over, spreading burning debris across the silk to smolder, releasing tiny lines of, blessedly, normal smoke.
“What was that? A wyvern?” Rasnah asked, her heart in her throat.
Meshed coughed his dry cough and shook his head. Vevi stared at the upturned censor with wide eyes. “Much worse, Sir Rasnah,” the Mage whispered, “A dragon.”
“It was dragon fire that destroyed this tower,” Meshed confirmed.
***
--- Part 2/2 ---
--- Table of Contents ---
Thanks for making it this far, you are the real MVP

Hi guys, posting here because I just need some guidance/outside perspective. We’re taking her to a trainer but wanted to ask here as well. Have a 1.5 year old Labrador retriever, very bad puller on the leash, we’ve recently decided to stop walking her outside the house until we improve her behavior (she also has issues with lunging/pulling on the leash when she sees another dog, has never shown aggression it seems more like excitement and desire to play, I stopped letting her near other dogs on walks bc of the lunging behavior which I hope isn’t making the situation worse because now she never gets to say hello,).
The method we have been using to train her has been to stop walking every time she begins to pull (she has a harness), wait for her to make eye contact/call her name and have slack in the leash/attention on me and then continue walking. It seemed like this was working and I was getting consistent slack in the leash however recently she will begin to pull again immediately as soon as I begin to walk again, it’s constant start and stop, and seems to be worsening as time goes on. Not giving eye contact when I call her name, only when I stop walking and she realizes she has to listen to keep moving forward. Her focus is definitely not on me, it’s on what she wants to get to next (she’s def tracking scents most of the time because her snout is consistently towards the ground when she’s walking), she never checks in with me on her own. My question is should we continue this method in the backyard to see if there is an improvement in her behavior or should we try a different method at this point?
Secondly, we have been walking her on a harness which I understand is contributing to the issue because it gives her way more power. However this is the confusion/concern that I have. The training videos I watch all say to train them on the leash with a regular collar around the neck for more control. I’m sure we would see fast results with this as the trainers show, and I am fine with doing that in my backyard, however when the time comes to eventually transition her to spaces outside of the yard, I would never trust her with only a regular collagentle lead or prong collar around her neck. I have so much anxiety about her slipping out because she has done it in the past with a regular collar and also one time with a step in harness. With the over the head harness I know she is safe/secure. I would never want to take her outside the house without her harness that I know she can’t slip out of, even if we get to the point where she is very well behaved/trained. I also fear her hurting her neck if she sees a trigger and gets excited, she doesn’t seem too have a good sense of self-awareness and I don’t want her to snap/hurt her neck. So my question is what equipment should I be training her with if my intention is to never let her walk outside the house without a harness on because I’m not convinced it would ever be 100% safe.
Thanks in advance and I apologize for this being so long I tried to condense it as best as I could.

Was offered to help set up for a major Pride event in my local city today. Feel like I screwed myself out of a long-term gig. For background, most of my experience is with digital marketing, and social media, with two PA gigs behind me (over two years ago).
The company I work for is a sole own ownership fo a major event planner in the city who has a ten-year track record of running various sold-out events (flea markets, shows, etc), with a stellar reputation. Had an interview with the owner and her assistant last month and it went well. We clarified that I was looking to make a career change from digital marketing to on-site events production, and we confirmed that my PA experience was limited. Was told to hop on for my first event at the end of May, but received little to no communication from them regarding call times, etc. Upon following up the day prior, I was told that due to weather (outdoor event) - I would not be needed and to instead help out for their next major June event, which was held today.
I had to initiate a majority of the follow-up to confirm the date, location, and call time. Did not receive until night before.
Here's where I fucked up:
-Missed my alarm by an hour (The call time was 9 AM). Immediately reached out to the assistant event planner to profusely apologize and advise I would be there ASAP. I show up close to 10 AM due to traffic and apologize again once checking in on-site and jump right into helping get things sorted for indoor installations. Admittedly, I was very frazzled but ignored those feelings as much as I could in order to catch up on all work needed. Being late was 100% my fault, and I made sure to acknowledge apologize, and accept full blame for this mistake. Was told it was fine, and to do my assigned work.
-Asked for any available tasks/call sheets. Was told there were none and was assigned tasks verbally as needed by various individuals of the team. I made sure to introduce myself to everyone on the team that was there, tell them I was on the PA team, and to advise to let me know if any help was needed.
-Majority of the tasks involved cleaning, moving around gear, etc. I made sure to complete each tasks as asked, and checked in with my lead when I could find her to give her updates. Everyone leading the teams seemed extremely overwhelmed, so I did my tasks as quickly and quietly as I could, staying out of the way and letting them do their thing. My main contact seemed extremely frazzled and exhausted when I checked in with her. Walkies were not issued at all to anyone, and most instructions were delivered directly.
-I'm prone to anxiety and in between tasks I took 30 seconds to step aside (outside of view) and maintain myself as best I could. This was after helping load out a full room of geaboxes/furniture and setting up a dressing room. After confirming with one of the leads if it was ok to take a 20-minute minute break to drink water and something to eat before continuing tasks (everyone was about to break for lunch). Said lead brought me over to the venue bar (packed) - advised me to order my meal and water and that it would be comped under the company bill. When the food didn't come out on time, I immediately went to try to find that same lead to let her know, but could not find her for a good fifteen minutes. Asked teammates and everyone. After finally finding her, that's when she pulled me to the side and asked if I was okay, and that I seemed very frazzled. I explained that being late threw me off quite a bit, but I was ready for whatever else they needed me to do. She said ok, told me to hang out for five minutes to drink wateeat, and to not rush. Upon returning, she thanked me for the help, said she wanted to make sure everyone on the team was "in a good place mentally to work" - and said I could go home. I apologized and said I did not mean to come across as frazzled while working, and she said she understood as being a PA herself a while ago. She walked me out a short minute after, saying she would grab my bag for me. I said goodbye and asked if they would be needing any help with their next event, which she said "possibly, we will let you know." We also confirmed payment terms.
I feel like they aren't going to let me know, and I made a horrible impression on everyone on the team. I'm incredibly upset at myself over this, and I don't know what the best approach is moving forward. Outside of being late and everyone being overwhelmed, I enjoyed what I did and want to make this a career (transition out of digital marketing.)
​
Is there any recourse left for me at this point? This would have been a dream gig for me long term and I feel like I fucked up so bad there's no going back.

great experience.
i fell short of my 300 hour goal though. i just became too stressed/exhausted mentally. i did not conserve energy enough i think. not enough cool air in nature.
i'm trying to heal a serious ear injury (hyperacusis and tinnitus). it's possible that DF won't even heal that, but i think it will, if i can get up to the 300-350 range. i'm also trying to heal asthma, nerve pain, and an astigmatism in my right eye.
i'm hoping that the refeed will stimulate some healing though.
things that happened during my DF:

1. asthma/allergies cleared up pretty nicely on day 5... however, i still feel mucous in my throat/chest. i suspect that a longer fast will clear that mucus up, which may eliminate my asthma entirely.
2. nerve pain has been reduced pretty nicely... however, the carnivore diet may be the primary reason why (i've been mostly carnivore for about 18 months... the nerve pain fluctuates some days despite being on carnivore).
3. insane meditations during the fast. nearly psychedelic. vivid colors. literally breathing in the color of the sun, grass, wind. envisioning God transmitting me powerful, colorful energy. smelling flowers felt like a shot of heroin LOL!
4. i should have taped my mouth shut more and only nose breathed. i dehydrated myself by mouth breathing too much around the 170 hour mark. also i should have been slower with my movements, like the russian literature talks about.
5. my mind totally rejected screens/computers/TV. maybe i'm just tapped out of those things in general though. i did not want to stare at any damn screen LOL. no toxic news, social media, people... etc. i probably spent like 6 hours in total on screens throughout the fast.
6. deep, deep rest, even when i couldn't sleep. just laying down and nose breathing healing into my brain. love that feeling.
7. creativity unlocked. i used to write screenplays in hollywood (they never went anywhere though). but during the fast, i've become inspired to write a novel instead. like really inspired. we'll see if i follow through on it!

anyway... i'm disappointed i couldn't run the table and get up to the 300 range... i'm a big believer of Trevor Stanley (@fastingwithtrevor on instagram)... he says the real healing happens in the 10-15 day range... if you don't get there, your ailments could just come back after the fast, despite feeling some healing of them during it. you have to literally crush those ailments to 0 percent, or they will just repopulate, essentially.
that's only if you have serious ailments though. most people that are relatively healthy will still experience immense healing and life extension from a 5-7 day.
until next time!!! thanks everybody!!!

I’m not judging anyone’s opinions about characters, but I’m curious as I got to thinking about something.
Luke seems to be a generally beloved character.
Seth seems to be pretty strongly polarizing; plenty love him, but many seem to absolutely despise him and consider him basically irredeemable. Some probably just find him annoying, which I get.
Seth has his flaws and his misdeeds, and I’m not here to necessarily defend any of them, though I can understand a lot of the ones that aren’t just due to lazy writing (I die on the hill of my unpopular take that Ryan should’ve listened to Seth about Oliver, rather than strictly the other way around).
This all got me thinking about Luke. I like Luke, but let’s consider some of his actions: He bullied Seth, both physically and verbally, including the use of copious homophobic slurs. He was likewise violent towards Ryan (you could certainly argue that there was more of a reason there).
He also cheated on Marissa with her friend, and did this in front of mutual friends (adding to the humiliation for Marissa). He also led Marissa to believe that they were sharing their first sexual experience together. Then after they’d broken up, he hit on both her best friend (Summer) and her mom.
Luke’s dad’s outing did humble him and clearly helped make him a better person, but he still did a fair number of these things after that went down (side note: I don’t think Seth gets nearly enough credit for how he navigates the Luke thing, given how terrible Luke was to him. You could argue that Seth was sort of forced into it by virtue of Luke and Ryan’s friendship, but still).
The other point is that Luke is seemingly 18 when all of this goes down. Seth is likely around 18 by the end of S3. It’s arguable, but I think most agree that Seth is generally more mature by S4 (other than some frankly tired jokes and storylines). So it’s not like Luke’s lost years were when he was dramatically younger than Seth; they were roughly the same age as they fucked up the most.
Though his dad wasn’t gay, Seth also went through his fair share of trials and tribulations. Being the child of an alcoholic brings its own set of challenges, but he was also bullied and socially isolated from a very young age, while living with antisemitism both in his community and from his own grandfather.
Certainly people could prefer Luke to Seth for various reasons. You also have to see so much of Seth’s weird screw-ups, and I personally find post-S1 Seth to be frequently exhausting, so I get that. What I’m most curious about is the sentiment that Seth is a bad person, while Luke is an endearing Golden Retriever, although I’d say Luke’s actions were objectively worse. I’m all for the redemption of both characters, but am just curious what others think.

My IP shows me coming out of UTAH, and im in Charlottesville, VA. It's been this way for awhile, but it just recently became an issue due to some laws that Utah passed. Further more, I constantly have to tell other services (speediest sites, location specific sites, etc) that I'm not in Utah, I'm in virginia.
I need to speak to someone who can ACTUALLY trouble shoot this. You tier 1 customer support is, no offense, nearly clueless. They have no idea how to configure a juniper acx2100 fiber handoff, dreammachine pro or mikrotek 10g switch.
This is compounded by the fact that when they transfer me to Comcast business, they transfer me back because I don't have a business account. Rinse+Repeat.
I would love to have some resolution to this, thanks.

After working an unfulfilling job for a while i really wanted to quit but i couldn’t find it in myself to so i kept staying and i only used it to pay for like little things like makeup and things like that so i only really worked like two days a week but it was a overwhelming job that would make me work despite being sick and stuff and my bf of a year and i are very serious and he saw how i was extremely burnt out and convinced me to quit saying he would take care of me and would financially support us both for things like that until i get my degree, so after a little hesitation i finally quit my 3 year job. Now it’s been about 2 weeks and it seems like he has no work ethic whatsoever. He calls out, he barely goes to work and barely has hours, one week only working ONCE. He is also only part time, something he did not tell me further. We also started our relationship with him knowing i like to be provided for (i cook for him, clean his place all the time, etc and he provides money wise). I’m starting to feel like he can’t fulfill the role he said he would, which when we were both working i didn’t mind if he couldn’t, but he literally told me to quit my job meanwhile he works less than i did when i worked. Someone please tell me what to do and if im overreacting here. I really love him but i feel 1. lied to and 2. feel like he won’t be able to provide for me and our potential future children like he said he would which makes me feel like our future it in hot water. i also wasn’t to reiterate he knew i wanted to marry a provider while also cooking and cleaning for him and doing almost anything he asked of me, if he said he wasn’t ok w this in the beginning i asked multiple times and he said he was lucky to have me and he also wanted that, so it isn’t like i forced this ideology on him! I am just so confused and worried and i feel like our relationship isn’t what i thought anymore. I want to talk to him about it and make sure he can take care of us, but if he says he can’t i’d be kind of upset he told he would and had me quit my job when i never really expected him to even say that! How can i go about this?

Hello! Cross-posted from dogtraining.
We have a 6yo border collie who is obsessive about herding our 4yo orange cat. For the first two years of the cat's life, we kept them completely separated since we knew the border collie liked to herd cats, but he (the cat) was very vocally upset about being restricted from parts of the house. When we moved houses we decided to try coexisting.
The orange cat, as they usually are, is VERY friendly. He LOVES her attention, that she stares at him, follows him, chases him. A primary struggle with teaching her to not chase him is that he often interferes with the training by trying to encourage her to chase him! Because of this, we've mostly stopped trying to train her and have just managed the situation (kennel her if she gets too overstimulated, setup pet gates to give him areas where she can't reach him, etc).
But the border collie has been pressing boundaries recently by making contact with her nips or aiming at his face because he doesn't react when she nips the air anymore. So I'm ready to step in and try training again because I want to prevent her escalating to biting just to get him to move (so she can then chase/herd him).
I know HOW to train this (interrupt chasing with rewards, teach leave it, reward for looking at me instead of staring at him, work up slowly by starting at a farther distance until they can be near each other, etc), but what has always stopped this in the past is HIM (the cat). When we give her treats, he freaks out and comes running to investigate/earn treats (very food motivated). If you try to work with her to not chase him, he just goes zooming in and out of the room and meows at her, trying to get her to chase! I don't know how to train her to exist near him calmly when any attempts to do so cause him to insert himself in the situation lol.
And just to add, attempts to restrain the cat (carrier, holding him, putting him on a leash) just lead to him moving erratically or meowing for attention which are triggers for her to herd. But giving her attention is a trigger for him to be a greedy little attention goblin.
It seems like I should start with training HIM, but then we have the same problem, with her going into herding mode when he receives any attention. So any advice on how to train either or both of them? They both do fine in separate rooms, can take food and etc, but as soon as the barrier is removed, I don't know how to keep either from interfering with the others training. 🙃
And just to clarify on the nipping, I am not worried about her killing him, that's not her instinct. She just wants him to move when he's sitting/laying down/etc, and he's EXTREMELY tolerant, so the only thing that gets a reaction from him lately is when she does make contact with her teeth and he gives her a pitiful "that wasn't nice" meow lol. He does not ever hiss at her, the most he does is stand on two legs and have his paws ready to lightly boop her (he does have claws but never uses them on her). I kinda wish he'd be more assertive with her because she doesn't press these boundaries with my parents cats who ARE assertive with her. She literally only is with him because he's so chill and lets her 😭 but on the flip side, hoping his friendliness allows training to get them to a place of mutual, somewhat calm, cohabitation. I don't expect her herding instinct to go away, I just want to manage it so it's less intense!
Anyways, thanks in advance!

My new job is retail and part time. I have worked there almost a month and I have open availability. I only get scheduled one or two days a week and nearly every day I work I get sent home after only working 2 hours. They claim because they haven’t met their profit goals for the day but I’m usually the only person that gets sent home and other people get to complete their entire shifts. I wonder if they over hired and are quiet firing me? The store made $10k over their expected goal yesterday but today I lost 4 hours of (abysmal) pay. Corporate greed and at will labor laws are the obvious answer to the reason they can make 50k in a single day and won’t even pay me for a whole shift making under $15 an hr. However, I’m seriously curious why they hired me in the first place?
Side note: Yes, I will be quitting because it turns out I have to go in for immediate surgery but they don’t know it yet. If you have fun ideas for quitting on the spot let me know lol.

Quite literally, as the bulk of the story is four Intrepid Space Explorers ™ walking directly into hurricane force winds from their landing site to a big effing hole in the ground while they deteriorate physically and mentally.
The basic story is simple: a survey ship finds what it believes is proof of intelligent alien life in the form a large, perfect hole which is emitting a strange signal. Despite it being a very inhospitable environment—a desert with the aforementioned hurricane force winds; the hole itself emitting a sound and EMP that will fry equipment and, I dunno, kill you; and neither the equipment or training to reliably overcome these obstacles, they decide to investigate. Naturally, things go wrong.
They go wrong for many reasons, such as the engineer forgetting that equipment to be used in what amounts to a perpetual sandstorm needs to be modified to be resistant to [drumroll] sand; the depressed, apathetic, and possibly passively suicidal protagonist not properly securing equipment, leading to the serious injury of another expedition member; and the only two people who are neither injured nor apathetic hating each other’s guts.
Mainly because one is a hedonistic Atheist stereotype while the other is a fanatical Fundamentalist Christian stereotype.
And, yes, we get to read their conversations.
Multiple times.
If being stuck in a small space with what amounts to a couple of edgy teenagers on internet message board sounds miserable, just wait, it gets worse. The protagonist, Alex, is depressed in the extreme after his wife’s death. His internal monologue, which comprises a solid chunk of the page count, is him perseverating over her death, the uncaring universe, whether the divine exists, and coming to the basic conclusion “what’s the point?”
Unfortunately, this makes him an extremely unpleasant person to spend 250 or so pages with. (Anyone who has ever listened to a “woe is me” monologue will understand.). It also makes him extremely passive. Moments like the following are not uncommon:

He debated saying anything; was there really a problem worth investigating? He didn’t want to deal with any extra hassle, but if there were a problem with the sledges, then—

(Spoiler alert: There was a problem.)
Of course, it’s hard to tell which is worse: his passivity or his actions.
On the one hand, here is the passivity. (The context is that he checking the anchors for their equipment as they trek across an inhospitable planet in near-hurricane force winds.)

The struts were secure enough. The straps too. He didn’t need to physically check each and every one of them, regs bedamned. It was a waste of time, and he was full out of fucks.

Yes, someone gets hurt, and our oh-so-delightful protagonist immediately thinks

Had he fucked up? If he’d taken the time to properly check the sledges…No. Couldn’t be. He was overreacting. There was no way to know for sure that he could have made any difference. The wind might have been strong enough to push the sledge loose no matter what. No way to be sure. But he couldn’t help but feel responsible.

On the other hand, here’s his activity.
While the team is deciding whether to press on with a non-ambulatory member, thanks to Alex’s fuckup with the sledges, he proposes first leaving the man in their spare Space Tent—yes, an incapacitated man alone on the surface of an alien planet— and then dragging him along.

”There’s a lot more room in the sledges now that we removed the supercapacitors and drive trains…and we wouldn’t have to bring the mast of the sail or the wheels from Chen’s sledge. All that could stay. You and I can handle a few extra kilos, and Pushkin, you’re more than strong enough to handle Chen. He’s not that big.” Alex was bluffing now, making assumptions reason told him were unreasonable, but he wasn’t going to admit as much.

Emphasis mine. I am sure their survival chances were much improved by Alex’s manipulations. (Spoiler alert: They weren't.)
And that leads to my final thought, which is that this is one of the most depressing, nihilistic things I have read in quite a while, all while lacking the literary beauty of a 19th century Russian novel.
It isn’t just the trauma porn as the explorers’ increasing ill health is described in loving detail. It isn’t just that there are no relationship changes between the characters, unless you count the Christian and Atheist going from merely hating each other to being downright homicidal. It isn’t just the tedium of spending a novel in the head of someone who does not give a tinker’s damn until the last few pages when he decides

The expedition had given him a goal, and the goal had given him a reason to keep moving. He recognized that now. As long as he had a destination in mind, he could keep putting one foot in front of the other. It didn’t mean life would be easy or pleasant, but maybe it could be bearable…. Besides, there was someone relying on him now. He couldn’t afford to fail. It was a new feeling. He liked it.

(Too bad he didn’t have that revelation before he started the trip ‘cause, wow, did he let people down.)
No, the worst part is that there’s no point to the suffering. They spend the entire book physically and mentally collapsing, two people die, one is disabled, and only Alex makes it to the hole. His equipment doesn’t, though, so all he has is the Mark I eyeball, which isn’t working too well by that point. What’s more, despite Alex’s newfound optimism, there’s a distinct possibility he and the injured person won’t survive the return trip. (The plan is to convert their sledge into a land yacht and sail back. In hurricane force winds. With neither of the survivors having sailing experience and both being injured.)
I like the story of failed expeditions as much as the next person, but I don’t like it after two hundred pages of a depressed protagonist working with people who hate each other. When you have a story where the protagonist doesn’t see a point for most of it, and the story itself doesn’t see point, should the reader?
Anyway, I hope Paolini got that out of his system so Murtagh will be fun. Anyone else read this one? It got a huge promotional push from Tor, but I haven't seen much discussion on it.

When I look at people’s faces, in that split second of eye contact, they all look like I personally pooped in their Cheerios. I’m wearing a mask, but I’ve curved my eyes into a smile. I want people to know that I’m friendly and conscious and there for them, but most of the world looks so angry back at me.
I’m slim, I’m clean, my clothes fit me. I look normal. Is that not enough to receive the smile back? Or any indication that I’m worthy of making eye contact with?
Or are those all just neutral faces, and I can’t acknowledge them that way...

I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but the last few years have been wild for airline travel. It seems like not even a week can pass before a new viral video is circulating the internet, showcasing some idiot on a plane or airport screaming, shouting, and even starting fights with other passengers and flight staff for no apparent reason.
I’m sure it’s entertaining when you’re sitting at home and come across these videos while casually scrolling through Reddit or Twitter. You might laugh, or shake your head at the stupidity and not give it a second thought. Unfortunately, this isn’t an option when you’re the one on the job.
I can’t even count the number of times I’ve had to call security to deal with a rowdy or straight-up violent customer in the airport over the last couple of years. Most of the time, the things that set people off are surprisingly minor and avoidable issues.
They want to board now but it wasn’t their turn so they start harassing me and my co-workers. Another passenger looked at them funny so they get into a screaming match. A baby is crying so the grown adult starts whining even louder. The person in front of them took the last chocolate donut with sprinkles from the airport bakery so they start throwing punches.
You would not believe the stuff I’ve seen. Needless to say, I got tired of it. Getting up to go to work, wondering what kind of unhinged maniac was going to make a problem for me lost its appeal. So, I started to look for a new job.
A few weeks into the job search, I began to get doubtful that I would find a suitable replacement. Seeing as my only tangible skills and experience were in the airline industry, I didn’t have much more than other airline jobs within realistic reach. Though I didn’t have a problem with relocation, if it meant I was going to end up in another major airport, I had no interest.
During one 3 am job search after my long shift at the airport, running on nothing but the jittery movements from the room-temperature coffee, I found a new job listing. One Pine Airport, a rural airport in the midwest. I sat up and took another sip of coffee. The pictures for the place gave an idea of the size and it looked tiny. Only a couple of runways, a single terminal, and a cute internal design reflective of the forestry that surrounded it. Perfect for me, I thought. I imagined there would not be nearly as many people to deal with.
I scrolled down to the job details and to my relief, it was for the exact same job I had already been doing. The only difference was that it required frequent night shifts. I had done plenty of night shifts before, but doing a few more of them made no difference to me. Surprisingly listed was the pay. I couldn’t believe my eyes. They were offering more starting than I was being paid at the airport I had been at for over three years.
Now wide awake, I eagerly uploaded my resume, filled out all of the application questions, and even spent the next hour crafting an unnecessary cover letter. I headed to bed with the hope that my days at overflowing airports might be over. The next day as I was getting ready for work, I opened my phone to scroll through notifications and check emails.
To my disbelief, I had one from the job I had applied for only hours earlier. The manager at the airport, who had posted the job, requested an interview over Zoom. I quickly replied and we settled on a time during my lunch break that very day.
The first few hours of work breezed by and as I boarded flight after flight of passengers, I couldn’t help but think about the upcoming interview. When it came time, I was nervous as hell but my fears were diffused within the first minute. A bald, well-kept, and well-dressed man joined the meeting room and greeted me with a warm smile. He introduced himself as James.
I couldn’t have asked for a more friendly interviewer. He welcomed me and after some small talk and a few questions about my relevant experience, he gave an overview of the job's details, that being the same job I already had with better pay but more frequent night shifts. No problem with me. After affirming that I knew all the details of the job, James cracked another wide, friendly smile and asked an unexpected question.
“When can you start?”
I spit the out sip of coffee I had just taken back into the cup. I looked back up at James and tried to find the right words but I was unprepared.
“You uh… aren’t gonna give me a call back like later or something? Don’t you have more interviews and… and paperwork waiting to clear and, and…?”
James waved his hand dismissively at his webcam.
“You’re the only applicant we have, and we couldn’t have asked for a better one. As for the paperwork and such, we’ll figure that out when we figure it out. The job is yours, whenever you can start, that is. Preferably soon?”
Though the feelings of shock and confusion remained, they were pushed to the side by my excitement. Throughout the remainder of our conversation, James and I reviewed our schedules and set up a start date before ending the call. I sat back in my break room chair with a sigh of disbelief and a chuckle.
I am well aware that it is standard to give at least a two-week notice to your employer and moving across states for a job is supposed to take quite a bit of planning but I was dying to get out of my current job. Through both eagerness and maybe a little stupidity, we settled on a day only a little over a week away.
At the end of my shift that day, I let my manager know I had to be done in a week. Though she wasn’t happy, she assured me it wouldn’t be a problem.
My final day was nothing short of horrendous. A couple had come up, demanding and screaming that I refund their tickets for no apparent reason. On top of that, they still wanted to fly. After hearing that no, they would not be able to fly for zero cost, the husband, followed by the wife, both started shouting threats. Security was quickly called to the terminal.
As soon as they arrived, I checked my watch to find that my shift was over. I let out a sigh of relief and excitedly walked away. As deprived of sleep as I was, with a long and undoubtedly stressful drive ahead of me, I was still more energetic and in higher spirits than I had been in a long time.
Surprisingly, the drive went off without a hitch. I arrived earlier than expected and checked into the motel room I rented for the week so I had time to get the move figured out. After dumping a few boxes of personal items and a suitcase of clothes into the room, I turned off the lights. I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I energetically awoke that evening to prepare myself for my first shift. I quickly got dressed and started the drive in hopes of arriving plenty early. Naively, I hadn’t considered how my unfamiliarity with the roads would slow me down, and after a staggering amount of wrong turns, I arrived at the little airport with only minutes to spare.
The airport was even smaller in person than I had imagined it to be from the pictures. I quickly walked through the entrance and was greeted by the small team of security. After notifying them that I was there for work and that James had been waiting for me, they hurried me through without so much as a question. The security, the architecture, the beautiful scenery that surrounded it, nothing about this airport couldn’t have felt more welcoming.
I walked through to find the single terminal inside, devoid of any passengers, with James sitting behind a counter at the end. After a moment he looked up and upon making eye contact with me, his tired face lit up. I was about to apologize for my tardiness but didn’t have the chance as he rushed to show me the employee locker room where he had my new employee uniform and badge waiting inside my very own locker. He told me to get changed and to meet him outside right away.
I did as he asked and within a couple of minutes, I walked out to find him back behind the console at the counter, gathering his belongings. He noticed me approaching and glanced up, thanking me for showing up and starting so soon as he handed me a fresh cup of coffee. He also apologized for not being able to stick around long for my shift but he sounded sure that he wasn’t all that worried.
“I have to be going now, I’ve been on duty for 17 hours. I know you’re plenty familiar with our systems and software, you know what you’re doing.”
He assured me with a pat on the back before walking out from the desk. He turned and added
“It’ll be a quiet night for you anyway. No flights scheduled. Just sit back, relax, and uh... Oh yeah. Most importantly, I nearly forgot”.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a single sheet of laminated paper and held it in front of me.
“Give this a read as soon as you can. Go over it a few times if you need, don’t deviate from it”.
I took it but before I could even get a look, I noticed James begin to walk toward the exit, along with every single one of the security guards and the cashier who had just closed down the only shop in the airport. I then noticed that all of the scanners and metal detectors at the security gate were shut off. I started to panic.
“Hey! James? Where is everyone going?”
I shouted. The first words I had managed to speak to my new boss since arriving. He stopped and turned back again
“Oh yeah. Another thing I ought to have mentioned. Everyone except whoever is working the night shift in, well, your position takes off right around now. Don’t worry, security will be back sometime around 5 am. You’ve got this place to yourself. Grab a magazine from the little store in there if you get bored. Feel free to snag yourself a couple of snacks too”.
He began to walk away again before briefly turning and pointing at me.
“But before you do anything, read that list. You’ll need it”.
I stood, dumbfounded as I watched my new boss along with all of the other airport staff leave. I started to wrap my head around the fact that I had an empty airport to myself for 10 hours, with nothing to do and no one to deal with, all while I was getting paid the highest wage I had ever earned.
As much as thinking about it delighted me, I turned my attention turned toward the sheet of paper I almost forgot I was holding on to. James said to follow whatever list was on it, so I figured I ought to take a look. I walked behind the airport counter and sank into one of the seats behind it. I took a sip of coffee and finally took a serious look.
A total of 6 rules were neatly spaced on the sheet.
Rule 1: All lights in the airport are to stay on at all times. If one is off, or if you are to accidentally turn one off, turn it back on as soon as possible. If a light seems to be broken or is out and unable to turn back on, calmly exit the area. Report the outage to James or maintenance when possible. Do not listen to the sounds. Do not listen to the voices.
Rule 2: Rule 2 pertains to rainy or stormy weather. If it is raining or storming outside, disregard rules 3, 4, and 5. They will not be a concern during these types of weather conditions. Stay inside at all times. Do not use the men’s restroom and avoid going near it entirely if possible.
Rule 3: Sometime between 11 pm and 1 am, a young woman will walk out of the women’s restroom. She will enter the terminal and sit, occasionally getting up to walk around or change seats. Her name is Elizabeth. She will attempt to make conversation but you must not reciprocate. You may look at her, you may give nonverbal communication such as a head nod, you may write as a means of communication, or you may shake her hand but do not speak to her. If you refuse to speak to her, Elizabeth should be gone within a few hours. If you happen to make such a mistake, go to the men’s restroom and wait for her to leave.
Rule 4: At around one or two in the morning, a janitor in blue coveralls will arrive at the front entrance. Crack open the door and ask for his name. If he says his name is Simon, let him in. If he gives you any name other than Simon, shut the door and lock it without another word and walk away. If the janitor is Simon, he will attend to the janitorial needs of the airport. If he asks to clean where you are standing, oblige him. Simon will not interfere with your duties otherwise. He is not hostile or dangerous. You may engage in conversation with Simon. He will leave the same way he came when he feels it is necessary.
Rule 5: At around 3 am, you may notice that a black and red Cessna Skyhawk has landed on one of the airstrips. You will never see it land, and you will never see it take off. It will just appear when you’re not looking. After spotting the plane for the first time, do not look at it again. Avoid looking in its general direction if at all possible. There is a picture of the exact plane displayed inside the terminal, behind the counter.
Rule 6: Later in the night but sometime before dawn, a group of men claiming to be from TSA may arrive at the airport. They will have their own key and let themselves in. Some could be armed. Often, they exhibit panicked behavior. They may search through the airport, sweep room to room, and ask questions. They are permitted to search anywhere in the main airport building that they please, and you may oblige to any questioning but under no circumstances are they permitted to enter the sky bridge. They will not enter without verbal approval and they cannot harm you.
After reading over it a few times, I set the laminated sheet down and leaned back further into my seat before taking a long sip of coffee, wondering what on earth I had just read. I hadn’t taken James to be the imaginative type. Most of all, I hadn’t taken him to be anywhere near the unprofessional type. Though as I thought about it, it was unusual how rushed this all was and how he left in such a hurry, leaving so few details.
I began to wonder if I was being pranked, I considered that maybe this was all some sort of messed up joke or setup. I ruled that out pretty quickly. This was, in fact, a real airport. I had done plenty of research by the time I got here. At least a few real flights were coming in or going out each day. James has been working here for years and I couldn’t think of a reason why he would jeopardize his job or reputation just to get a scare out of me.
After chuckling to myself at the absurdity of my situation, I decided to indulge and see what would happen. Maybe it was a “test” for me as a new employee. Maybe James wanted to see if I could follow orders.
After glancing at the list once more and realizing the impact rule 2 had on the number of things I would have to keep track of, I brought up my phone to check the forecast. Clear skies, not a chance for rain or storms all night. Great, I thought to myself. I had to watch out for these Elizabeth and Simon characters to show up and I suppose “not” be on the lookout for a random plane to appear on the runway.
I stood up and grabbed my coffee, walking to the glass panes. I took another sip from my cup while admiring the lit runways along the airfield. It sure was a pretty nice sight. As I was raising my cup to finish what was left, I began to hear the click of shoes on the floor somewhere behind me.
Startled, I spun around abruptly, dropping my cup and spilling the remainder of the coffee in the process. At the other end of the terminal seating stood a young woman, around her mid-twenties in my estimation. She was holding two large leather suitcases in each hand and had an old-fashioned sense of style with a skirt and heels. Most surprising was her stunning beauty and welcoming smile.
“Oh I’m sorry dear, didn’t mean to scare you”
She expressed with a sincere tone. I opened my mouth, ready to assure her that everything was fine but I stopped myself. I recalled the list. At this point, I was certain that she was here at James’s request, a paid actor determined to make me break the rules. I was more determined not to. Instead, I simply fixed my posture, straightened my uniform, and looked back with a smile.
She walked to the counter where she placed her leather suitcases on the ground before closing the distance between us.
“Looks like we’ve got this fabulous airport all to ourselves. I am Elizabeth”
She said, reaching out her hand. I shook it, but she didn’t seem quite satisfied.
“And your name?”
I continued to smile and lock eye contact. Her grin grew for a moment before she remarked
“You don’t seem to be much of a talkative one”
And with that, she turned and started to walk away. I returned to my seat behind the counter, watching her closely as I did. Elizabeth proceeded to the unattended airport shop and after a couple of minutes of looking over magazine covers and occasionally taking a peek inside, she returned carrying a small stack of reading material. She approached my counter before placing a National Geographic magazine in front of me.
“I figured you might like this one. Enjoy”
She said, winking before settling on a seat in the first row of the terminal, straight across from where I had been sitting.
Remarkably, her intuition was spot on. I may have lived in cities all of my life but I loved nature, despite how little of it I had gotten to see. National Geographic was a favorite of mine, one I had been familiar with and enjoyed on work breaks from time to time. Rarely was I given this long to be able to read. I was almost tempted to break the rule and thank her for her rather thoughtful act, though I didn’t. I stuck to the rule.
The next couple of hours were uneventful. Elizabeth and I read through our magazines, occasionally looking up at each other to exchange glances and smiles. Within that time, she had attempted to get me to talk at least half a dozen more times. I almost gave in when she asked me if I wanted another magazine.
At a little past 1:30, I could hear a knock at the front entrance. Elizabeth and I both looked before she remarked
“Oh, that must be the nice cleaner man”
With a giggle before returning to her magazine. I walked over to the front doors and sure enough, there stood a man around his mid-thirties, sporting a blue janitor suit waiting patiently at the door. I unlocked the door and opened it. As he took a stride to enter, I remembered the most important detail from rule 4. I closed the door halfway and sternly commanded
“Wait”
The man looked up at me with a surprised look. I asked him the question.
“What is your name?”
The man stared back at me as an innocent smile formed on his face.
“I’m Simon!”
He announced excitedly.
“The Janitor here. Did James let you know I was coming tonight?”
I stood there for a moment, thinking over the rule, before nodding my head and opening the door once again to let him in.
Once inside, Simon walked with purpose to the janitor's closet which was positioned near the men’s restroom. I followed him somewhat suspiciously for the next few minutes as he began to clean but I eased up once I got the feeling that he was just the janitor around here and that James made up the whole “ask for his name thing” to make into one of his rules.
I returned to my counter in the terminal and continued to read. Occasionally, Simon would pass by, off to do his duties in some part of the airport or Elizabeth would stand up to look at the various pictures and paintings on display in the terminal. A good half an hour of this would go on before Simon approached the terminal counter with his mop in hand. He seemed to be eyeing up the two leather suitcases Elizabeth had set there.
Assuming he wanted to clean where they were, I got up to move them. I grabbed each one by the handle but failed to lift them off of the ground. Confused, I stepped back to see if they were stuck on something. They were not. Just two suitcases, left right where Elizabeth had set them.
I tried to lift just one. Again, I failed. I tried both hands, putting my back and legs into it with all that I had. It wouldn’t budge.
I looked back up at Simon who nodded his head in Elizabeth’s direction. I turned to look at Elizabeth, who after noticing my stare, and my apparent inability to move her luggage, smiled and stood up.
“Let me get that for you”
She insisted. With ease, she lifted both leather suitcases and moved them closer to her seat before lowering them, this time letting them drop a few inches. When they hit the ground, a boom echoed through the airport and I flinched in surprise. I looked back at Simon, who hadn’t seemed shocked at all. He just continued to mop.
I slowly made my way back to my seat, not taking an eye off Elizabeth for one second as I did. After a few minutes, she looked back up from her magazine, noticed my stare, and returned to her reading with a grin. She seemed to find my shock amusing. Eventually, Simon noticed my surprise as well. He paused his mopping and approached me before raising his head.
“I know, I know. Stick to the rules and everything will be just fine, trust me”
He stated quietly. I nodded my head in response.
Simon went back to his cleaning. A few minutes passed before Elizabeth had something new to say.
“What a remarkable aircraft!”
She exclaimed, looking out the glass panes facing the runways. I followed her gaze to the lone, black, and red airplane positioned on the runway. I turned around, looking at the picture displayed behind me. It certainly looked like a match. I turned back to the window and felt my heart sink. A silhouette of a person now stood next to the plane, facing the airport and the windows of the terminal.
“Stop looking at it”
Simon sternly muttered from behind me. I looked back at Simon who quickly cowered, seemingly ashamed to have raised his voice at me but I was grateful he had. I read over rule 5 again, specifically where it stated to not look at the plane twice. I murmured insults at myself under my breath but they didn’t have much room between my now heavy, frantic breathing. My eyes darted through the other rules. I chose to focus on that sheet of paper. At least it was something other to look at than the plane outside.
This went on for a good ten minutes or so and my breathing started to calm down. I had begun to pray in my head that whoever and whatever that was would go away when Elizabeth suddenly approached my counter. I snapped my head up in a jittery movement to make eye contact with her.
“I’m going to get some more reading material. Want another one of those?”
She asked, reaching a hand out to my National Geographic magazine. I looked up and nodded, forcing a smile. As She moved away, my gaze didn’t, and once again I found myself looking at the plane on the runway, the silhouette now standing hundreds of feet away from the plane, even closer to the building, and still staring in my direction.
Chills ran up my spine as I snapped my gaze back to my desk. I began to shake with fear and the manic breathing returned. Moments later, Elizabeth returned and placed a new magazine on the counter before running a hand over my shoulder, seemingly to comfort me. Simon then put his hand on my back.
“He’ll be gone soon and so will the plane. Just don’t look at it again”
He assured me.
“Mind if I clean here?”
He then asked.
I got up and walked to the end of the counter, watching Simon thoroughly clean the floor before I looked up and let out a soft
“Thank you”
He nodded and smiled back.
“What was that?”
Elizabeth asked. I turned towards her.
“Oh, I was just thanking Simon for-”
My error occurred to me before I could finish speaking. My eyes locked on Elizabeth as she stood up from her seat and her smile faded. Her eyes and nose began to bleed profusely as she started to sob, lightly at first, then hysterically. She let out a bellowing screech, a mix of pain and anger. She picked up one of her suitcases and hurled it at me, I barely dodged the ridiculously heavy object before it crashed into the wall behind me.
Luckily I was quick thinking this time and made a run for the men’s restroom recalling rule 3. She chased after me but I slammed the door shut in her face and locked it. Elizabeth pounded on the door with furious anger a few times but gave up quickly.
“So that’s how you dance, is it love? I can play that game”
She snickered before flipping a light switch outside of the bathroom. The clicking of her shoes faded away. A few minutes of silence passed before laughter started to become audible from the other side of the door.
One voice grew to two, two voices grew to three, three grew to ten. While others continued their now hysterical laughing, some began to scream. I crumbled to the floor, covering my ears as the voices went on, only stopped by another flip of the switch. Light beamed through the bottom of the door.
“It’s over now. She’s gone, and so is the plane. I’ve gotta be getting out of here soon”
Simon’s calm and friendly voice called out. I reluctantly exited the bathroom and followed him back to the counter, where he had prepared another coffee for me.
“Wish I could have done more there but you’ll come to find out that when Elizabeth gets angry, you just gotta let her do her thing”.
I looked up at him, still with my distraught face, at a loss for words. Over the next few minutes, Simon finished cleaning Elizabeth’s blood from the floor before putting everything back into the janitor's closet. He looked down at his watch.
“I better get out of here. Good luck with the rest of your night. I hope I’ll be seeing you soon”.
He said, letting out a sigh as he again looked at me in pity. I think he knew how shaken up I was. It was like he had seen people in my position before. Something told me he doesn’t have a choice on when he leaves. After I watched him exit the door, I returned to my seat behind the counter. I began to feel alone and afraid, but the loneliness wouldn’t last at least.
Only minutes after Simon left, the doors swung open and men in tactical gear, most of which had their faces covered in masks and goggles, rushed through the door. I sprung back up from my seat and watched as they did, with not much else I could do. They swept room to room, checking every nook and cranny at gunpoint, ignoring my existence at first.
As they cleared the entire building, the twenty or so armed men made their way to the terminal seating area. A lone man in a suit, whom I had not noticed enter, made his way to the front of the group.
“I’m with TSA, I’m going to need you to answer some questions for me”
He demanded. I nodded in affirmation.
“How many individuals have you seen in this airport since the security team left the building?”
“Besides myself, 2 Inside, one outside”
I answered confidently.
“Was the individual outside next to a black and red Cessna Skyhawk?”
“Yes”
I again responded confidently. The man in the suit nodded and paused for a moment before making another demand.
“We’re going to need to search the air bridge”.
I glanced back at the sheet of rules on the counter. Making sure I had read it right before. I took a step forward and straightened my uniform.
“No”
I replied. The man in the suit looked irritated.
“If you do not step aside and give us permission to search, I’m afraid I’ll have to detain you”.
Already tired and worn out, I wasn’t going to break the last rule. I decided to give a not-so-smart remark to the man in the suit
“Looking a little well-armed for TSA, wouldn’t you agree?”
He ignored my comment.
“Last chance, step aside”
“No”
Again, irritated by my response, the man in the suit turned to his right and raised his chin to give a signal. Gunshots rang out and I collapsed to the floor. I felt as though my life left my body before it all faded to black.
The next thing I remembered was the feeling of my hand gripping a water bottle. Then came James’s voice.
“I see you made it through the first night intact. Looks like you got to meet Simon. He’s a nice guy, you’ll get to like him. And Elizabeth, she’s…well, she’s something else, isn’t she?”
I opened my eyes and looked up at James.
“Am I dead?”
I asked in a raspy voice. James chuckled in return.
“No! No, you did great. You’re fine. It does, however, look like you might have been a little assertive to our undead TSA special forces wannabes. I would recommend sticking with the less aggressive tone and word choices, maybe I ought to edit that into the rules sheet… In any case, they can’t hurt you but they can still get a jump out of you, as you saw”.
Once again, I was at a loss for words. I slowly made my way back to my feet from the ground and looked at the sunrise over the airfield. James held out an envelope for me. I opened it, revealing a stack of crisp $100 bills.
“A little bonus for your first night. It sure is a lot to go through for the first time but I promise, you get used to it all”.
I turned to James with an angry look and finally spoke up.
“What the hell is wrong with you? What makes you think it’s okay to put someone through this without any warning? I'm done, keep your damn money. I’m gonna go call the cops”.
I started to walk towards the exit when James stepped in front of me.
“Look, I know it isn’t fair for you but it wasn’t fair for me either. It wasn’t fair for any of us. It’s not okay, I know. But what do you expect me to do? Someone needs to be here for the night shift. You wouldn’t believe any of this if I told you ahead of time. You would have thought I was some sort of nutjob and the police will think of you the same if you tell them. I needed you to see it for yourself”
James was starting to get worked up and stoppeto breatheth before continuing.
“This money is yours, no strings attached. You’re free to leave now and never come back, there will be no shame in it”
I also started to calm down but I couldn’t bring myself to look James in the eye yet.
“If you choose to stay, I’ll see you in my office to finish up your paperwork”.
And with that, James walked away. Facing the front of the airport, I watched the first passengers of the day come through the entrance. I just stood there for a few minutes. Whether I was ready for this job or not, I knew right then I sure as hell wasn’t going back to another overcrowded city airport.
I turned and headed for James’s office.

After I get out of a lane I’m drying off putting things away and nearly every single time swimmers are asking me if I’m done! PSA: If someone is drying off and putting their equipment away that means they are done swimming! 😂

I’ve gotten rid of about 20 initial XL trash bags worth of items in the last few years from my childhood room.
For reference, it was a very tiny room that just barely fit a twin bed and desk. I had to wade through garbage until I moved out.
Since then, I’ve moved 5 times and have gotten rid of 10+ garbage bags each time.
On move 4, my husband and I moved about 35’ of combined uhaul to our new 500 sq ft home.
We had to significantly downsize. We got rid of nearly all of our furniture and Marie Kondo’d an additional 15 trash bags of small stuff. The rest we very creatively jam packed into the house.
This last move we Marie Kondo’d AGAIN and we are finally down to a reasonable amount of stuff.
We rarely buy anything. We get new clothes (like, a shirt or two) maybe 2x a year. We wear shoes until they wear out and replace them. Most things in our home are 1 in 1 out. Our family doesn’t give us “stuff” for holidays since they know we hate it.
My question is that even though I feel like we’ve done near everything possible, how do we still have such a messy and cluttered home?!!! There’s always something that doesn’t have a home.
I feel like every time I turn around our house looks like a tornado came through. We clean constantly and it’s just two adults working from home.
Do we really need to go down to the barest amount of items, get rid of decor, books, art, etc. to get to the point that cleaning becomes possible?
Everyone we know keeps a tidy home all the time and it feels nearly impossible. We were thinking about opening a brick and mortar for our business, but the idea of keeping two locations tidy makes me want to faint!

Hey everyone, the mods and I have been talking and we've made some changes to the subreddit to address some recent issues, and I want to go over them and discuss it with all of you :)
As the subreddit has grown there has been a increase in the amount of "Asking for a Diagnosis" posts. These posts typically include people with non-Scoliotic spines, or extremely mild cases of Scoliosis. You can read more about the discussions the community has been having on this topic in this recent thread here.
After discussing this with the moderator team, we all agree the primary goal of the subreddit is to help as many people as possible. This includes people that are here asking for a diagnosis, people that are afraid they have Scoliosis (even if they don't actually have it), and people with mild cases of Scoliosis. I have discussed this topic many times before and made my stance very clear; as someone with severe Scoliosis that causes insecurities and chronic pain that will be with me every second of my life, both of which very nearly drove me to end my life, I believe that someone with a mild case of Scoliosis with no symptoms deserves just as much care and compassion as I do. I want this subreddit to embody that level of empathy and compassion for everyone with Scoliosis, not just for those who have severe Scoliosis like I do, or those who have even more severe circumstances like surgery. Nothing is gained by comparing our Scoliosis or the struggles that come along with it; we all deserve love and support.
At the same time, we also recognize that there's a better way to welcome and help everyone than the current system. We want the subreddit to be easily accessible to the people that use it the most, and foster discussions beyond pointing someone coming here for a diagnosis in the right direction. With these goals in mind, we've made a few changes.
The first is we've added a new rule;
​

1. You have to actually have Scoliosis in order to ask for advice on your x-ray.

Please note that small asymmetry in the spine (10 degree curvature or less) is completely normal and common- no one's spine is perfectly symmetrical. Scoliosis is defined as a curvature that exceeds 10 degrees; if your curvature is 10 degrees or lower, you don't have Scoliosis.

​
We believe this will kill two birds with one stone. It will keep the subreddit clear from all of the non-Scoliotic x-ray posts asking "How bad is this?!", and at the same time it will answer the poster's question in the removal message;
​

Hello, moderator of Scoliosis here! Unfortunately I've had to remove your post because you're asking for advice on a non-Scoliotic spine. This means that to our eyes, your curvature(s) don't exceed 10 degrees, and therefor do not medically qualify as Scoliosis. Please note that small asymmetry in the spine (a 10 degree curvature or less) is completely normal and common- no one's spine is perfectly symmetrical. Scoliosis is defined as a curvature that exceeds 10 degrees; if your curvature is 10 degrees or lower, you don't have Scoliosis.
Please keep in mind that if you didn't include curvature measurements in your post, we're taking our best guess and estimating that your curvature(s) are 10 degrees or less. We are simply volunteers trying to keep the subreddit running smoothly, we are NOT doctors, and you should always consult a doctor for more accurate measurements, and you should NOT rely on our estimations.
If you only have normal asymmetry in the spine (Again, a 10 degree curvature(s) or less), treatment is only necessary and symptoms are only present in extremely rare circumstances, and you should consult your doctor about it.
If you have questions/concerns, please feel free to send a message to the mod team of Scoliosis.

​
With all of this in mind, we have also adjusted the removal message for rule #1, "No asking for a Diagnosis;"
​

Hi, moderator of Scoliosis here! Unfortunately the first rule of our subreddit bans asking for a diagnosis, so I've removed this post.
Typically people ask for a diagnosis on the subreddit after discovering their body is uneven. It's important to know it is completely normal and natural to be asymmetrical, and that no one is perfectly symmetrical. Asymmetry is a symptom of Scoliosis, but it does not guarantee you have it, and in most cases you cannot diagnose Scoliosis based on that alone. Even doctors who diagnose Scoliosis for a living ultimately rely on x-rays for a definitive diagnosis. Relying on the asymmetry symptoms is too inconsistent, and it does not reliably determine how severe the Scoliosis is, if it is even present. Chances are if you're worried you have Scoliosis there's enough symptoms to warrant getting checked out, the best thing you can do is make a doctors appointment.
We are aware that not everyone has access to affordable healthcare, and getting a diagnosis is not always easy. We want to help as much as we can, but ultimately we are not doctors, and due to the nature of Scoliosis there is no way for us to diagnose you here. If you are in this situation, please feel free to post here and talk to other redditors in similar situations on strategies to find a doctor near you and get checked for Scoliosis affordably. It is also worth doing your own research to try and find financial aid, and there are plenty of other health-related subreddits on Reddit that might be able to help you further with that, and we're really sorry we can't help more.
If you have questions/concerns, please feel free to send a message to the mod team of Scoliosis.

​
We believe that these changes will address the current issues we're having, while still helping everyone that comes to the subreddit for help. Of course, if you have thoughts on these changes please feel free to discuss it below.
Thank you everyone for making this an inclusive safe space for anyone with Scoliosis!

It's my third day of work. Was feelling a little sick so I had a bit of sparkly water before going into work, just to burp and see if I would feel better. I did. Two minutes into my shift, I feel it coming. I ran, to no avail. It was so much. All over the floor and my uniform. I was Alone, hunched over my artwork for what felt like ten minutes. I started crying (mature, I know) and a sweet old couple came to help me. They took me to the bathroom and cleaned me up. Then they went to the store I work at, and called my coworkers, who then called me a Uber home. I hope that couple never have a problem again in their life, and are the happiest people ever. I love them and I wish I could thank them more.
Bonus embarassement: as the vomit volcano was exiting my body, I heard the lowdest EWWWW of my life. I was on uniform, everyone can know where I work... I want to crawl into a hole and die a peaceful death.

Obligatory throwaway account and names changed etc etc
At 18 I had to move out for reasons out of my control, and landed in this horribly dirty trap house with my partner and a few other people. Other roommates came and went and had their own drama, but we’re gonna focus on Barry today. Barry is a manipulative, gaslighting, drug abusing, narcissistic person, all of which come into play in this story. When i originally moved in I was aware of some pot use, which I don’t mind as it’s legal in our state, but became a bit more uncomfortable learning that Barry was also selling, and not small quantities either. Eventually I came to terms with the fact that was happening under the same roof as me, but the fear of cops coming at any point terrified me until the day I moved out, because weed may be legal but the AMOUNT there was couldn’t be legal on any plane of existence. Then we began learning about Barry and his personal life, he lamented about all his friends leaving him at his lowest and being treated like garbage by them. Telling stories with elaborate lies sprinkled through them, but we were none with wiser in the beginning. After a while of selling/using and literally not doing anything for his continuous down spiraling mental health, he turned to harder drugs. His new philosophy was “if it gets my high I’ll do it.” And not in moderation. He would constantly tell my partner and I and others in the house about how he thinks he might die from the amount of shit he put up his nose, or how he’s nodding off from some shit he popped and is gonna go driving. Now is a good time to note the size difference, im average height, same with my partner. Barry on the other hand is much taller and much heavier than basically anyone who had ever been in that trap house, so when he made threats like that we could do nothing but watch. It got to a point where he slept for a week straight on the couch just from the amount of stuff he had in his system, completely unmoving in that time, not even eating. He would hold money over peoples head like a form of power, but majority of the time it was drug money he was flexing. He never once tried to clean up his act, and when we finally had enough and moved out, we figured out why all his friends dropped him. He lashed out with more anger than I could have imagined, almost ruining our chances of moving out and acting entitled to us as people. We dropped him after the string of texts about how disrespectful we were coupled with complete mental breakdowns apologizing for how self destructive he is and the he pushes everyone away for drugs. This isn’t even half of everything that happened, but I was trying to keep it short, which obviously didn’t happen
TL;DR Drug abusing narcissist made his bed and now he has to lay in it