#I can still go to the grocery store and because

[itneverendshere]

you and your sister going out to the store, and milo’s so wiggly in the cart and you over hear your sister tell him “go hang with uncle rafe” and he zooms to rafe and it’s so cute to see

thank you for the request!!! 🫶🏻🫂 it's so cute watching them all grow up/old together it kills me

i'd give up everything - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

It’s almost golden hour, and the parking lot of the grocery store is lit in that perfect, warm light that makes everything look prettier than it is. You’re pushing the cart while Monica’s next to you, holding onto Milo’s hand as he bounces with energy he clearly stole from the depths of kid’s chaos. It’s like he never stops.

You can’t remember the last time this kid sat still.

“Why did we even bring him?” You laugh, watching as Milo keeps trying to wriggle out of her grasp. "It's like he's allergic to being still."

Monica sighs, throwing you a half-hearted grin. “I know, right? Kid’s got more energy than I did in college.”

Milo makes a break for it, slipping out of her hold and darting towards the cart. He’s got this wild grin on his face like it’s the most fun game in the world. And to be fair, it kinda is. His growing legs are sprinting towards the cart before Monica can even react.

“Come on, Milo!” she calls after him, rolling her eyes but not too mad about it. She’s used to this routine by now.

You scoop him up, plopping him back into the shopping cart with a laugh, wheezing in the process because wow he’s grown now. “I got him,” You say, but he’s already jumping, trying to climb out like some mini escape artist. His hands grip the edge, feet kicking out as he tries to launch himself toward freedom.

“You know who’s better at wrangling this kid?” Monica says with a smirk, like she’s got the perfect plan up her sleeve.

“Don’t say it,” You warn, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Go hang with Uncle Rafe,” she sing-songs, like it’s the solution to every kid problem in the world.

And, of course, the second the words leave her mouth, Milo’s entire face lights up. He lets out this high-pitched squeal, the kind that only a soon to be six-year-old can make without bursting their vocal cords, and he’s off. He shimmies out of the cart like a squirrel, landing on the pavement with all the grace of a tiny athlete.

“Milo, wait!” You laugh, but honestly, you don’t even try to stop him. The kid’s determined, and you all know where he’s headed.

Rafe’s leaning against the hood of his truck, looking way too cool for a grocery store run. He’s on his phone, completely oblivious to the tornado zooming his way.

Milo barrels into his legs with full toddler force, grabbing onto his jeans like his life depends on it. “Unca Rafe!” he shouts, voice so full of excitement it makes your heart flip. 

Rafe looks down, caught off guard, but then his face softens into this smile that’s...it’s so unfair how cute he is. How does he manage to go from looking like the most intimidating guy in the world to this softie in two seconds flat? It’s criminal, really.

“Well, hey, little man,” He says, tucking his phone into his pocket and crouching down to Milo’s level. “What’s up? You causin' trouble already?”

Milo giggles, throwing his arms around Rafe’s neck in the clumsiest, cutest hug. Rafe lifts him up with ease, like he weights nothing, holding him against his chest like he’s done it a thousand times before — which, honestly, he kinda has. 

You lean against the cart, watching the whole scene unfold, and you can’t help but smile. It’s such a simple thing, but the way Rafe is with Milo always gets you. Like, he’s got this side to him that not a lot of people see, this soft, caring, protective side that only comes out when he’s with the people he loves. And watching him with your nephew? Yeah, it makes you feel things. Big, mushy, embarrassing things.

“He’s obsessed with you, you know,” You say as you walk up to them, folding your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow.

Your boyfriend gives you this cocky grin, holding Milo with one arm like it’s nothing. “Can you blame him?” he teases, winking. “He’s just like his auntie.”

Even though you roll your eyes at his teasing, there’s no denying that he’s right. Milo is kind of like you—especially in the way he seems totally infatuated with Rafe.

You can’t blame him.

“I don’t know who you think you’re flattering right now,” you reply, smirking as you grab a few of the grocery bags from the cart. “But fine, I’ll give you that. Kid’s got good taste.”

Rafe chuckles, the sound low and warm, while Milo tugs at the collar of his t-shirt, trying to get his attention again. “Unca Rafe, can I go in the truck?” Milo asks, bouncing with the same boundless energy that’s been following him all day. You really miss the days he called him Rafey.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at you for approval like the responsible uncle he pretends to be sometimes. “What do you think? You wanna let him play around inside?”

You shrug, already giving in because, let’s be real, there’s no stopping Milo when he’s this excited. “As long as he doesn’t drive off, I’m good.”

“No promises, baby."

Before you can say anything, Rafe’s already tossing Milo into the air, earning a high-pitched squeal that echoes through the parking lot. You can’t help but watch, feeling that familiar tug of affection as he catches him effortlessly, setting him down in the open passenger door of his truck.

Milo immediately starts pressing all the buttons, making the truck beep and flash like he’s setting off a mini-light show, but Rafe doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He’s leaning back against the side of the truck, crossing his arms as he watches Milo with the prettiest smile on his face. 

Monica finishes loading the last of the bags into her car, and she glances over at the scene unfolding in front of you with a smirk. “He’s a natural, huh?” she says quietly, nudging you with her elbow. 

You try to play it cool, even though your heart’s swelling in your chest. “Yeah, he’s alright,” you joke, but the truth is written all over your face. You’re totally, hopelessly in love with the guy standing there, pretending not to care that Milo’s probably activating every feature his truck has to offer.

Your sister gives you a knowing look, like she can see straight through your attempt to be nonchalant. “Milo’s lucky. He’s got you both wrapped around his little finger.”

You laugh because, yeah, that’s probably true. Milo’s got this charm that no one in your family can resist, and Rafe’s just as guilty of it as you are.

As if on cue, Milo pops his head out of the truck window, eyes wide with excitement. “Unca Rafe, can I honk the horn?”

Rafe shoots you a glance, “Should I let him?”

You sigh dramatically, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Go ahead. Just don’t blame me if he thinks he can do this every time.”

Rafe laughs, reaching over to ruffle Milo’s hair. “Alright, little man. One honk. Make it count.”

Milo slams his tiny hand down on the horn, the loud sound blaring across the parking lot, and you wince even though you knew it was coming. Rafe’s laughing, Milo’s giggling like he’s just pulled off the prank of the century, and you—well, you’re just standing there, taking it all in, wondering how you got so lucky.

It’s moments like this that make you realize how different things are now. Two and a half years ago, if someone had told you that Rafe Cameron—golden boy, Kook prince, with a reputation for being that guy—would be standing here, playing the perfect role of doting uncle to your nephew, you probably would’ve laughed in their face.

But here he is. 

And here you are, watching the two most important boys in your life bond over something as simple as honking a horn. Rafe catches your eye again, his grin softening as Milo scrambles back into the truck, happily babbling to himself about how loud it was.

“Think he’s ready to drive it for real?” Rafe jokes, stepping closer to you.

“Absolutely not,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But thanks for getting him all wound up right before we’re supposed to head home.”

Rafe shrugs, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “What can I say? He’s fun to mess with.”

You roll your eyes but lean into him, enjoying the warmth of his touch. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who’s gonna have to deal with him next time he demands a honk.”

Rafe chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both watch Milo crawl back over to the driver’s seat, completely mesmerized by the truck’s dashboard, “You know I love it.”

You glance up at him, and for a second, you feel this overwhelming sense of gratitude—like you’ve somehow stumbled into the best version of your life without even realizing it. This is the guy who has seen you at your worst, dealt with your stubborn streak, and still chooses to stick around. And not just stick around—he’s fully here, present, loving your nephew like he’s been part of your family all along.

You can’t believe he only left rehab a month ago. 

“Okay, but seriously,” Monica says, glancing between you and Rafe, “How am I ever going to survive without seeing you being in love every day? It’s sickening.”

You can’t help but snort, nudging Rafe with your shoulder. “Sickening, huh?”

“Pleases,” she rolls her eyes but is smiling. “I can’t believe you’re moving together.”

“Moving in?” Milo suddenly chimes in, his head popping out of the truck window like a jack-in-the-box. “Are you gonna live with Uncle Rafe forever?”

You share a look with Rafe, and he raises his brows in mock surprise. “What? You don’t wanna share her?”

Milo’s eyes widen, contemplating this monumental decision as if it were the biggest thing he’s ever had to think about. “Will I get to come visit?”

“Every day if you want,” Rafe assures him, still grinning as he crouches to Milo’s level again. “You can help us cook and make all the noise you want. We’ll even have a trampoline in the backyard. Sound good?”

Milo claps his hands, clearly sold on the idea. “Yes! And can we have pizza every Friday?”

You chuckle, glancing at Rafe. “I think we can manage that.”

[wheelie-sick]

I don't know how to express this quite right but I'm going to try

in an ideal world everyone who uses a wheelchair with regularity would have access to an adequate custom wheelchair but it is very frustrating when people who are much more ambulatory than I am call me lucky for having insurance approve mine. they aren't recognizing the difference in circumstances between us, they aren't recognizing the position I was in when I got my wheelchair approved.

I know it's frustrating to get an insurance denial, and denial does not mean you don't need a custom wheelchair, but when people do get approved it is usually because they have incredibly significant limitations on their mobility. a lot of people hear about ambulatory wheelchair users being approved for a custom wheelchair and think of an occasional wheelchair user (using occasional here to mean not for a significant portion of every day) I think they don't think about the fact that 10 steps is still ambulatory. I rarely hear of occasional wheelchair users getting approval for a custom wheelchair because being able to walk for a significant portion of every day is actually quite a lot of mobility in the grand scheme of things!

I have pretty consistently had people ask me how I got approved for a custom wheelchair while ambulatory, how I convinced insurance to let me have one, and it's hard to answer because I just unequivocally needed one? when I was approved for my custom wheelchair I was walking under 150 steps a day. I remember this because I wore a Fitbit for a while. that is approximately 4 trips to the bathroom and none to the kitchen. I had to have my family bring me meals because my mobility was so limited. the people who ask me this most often are people on my university campus, people capable of walking to and from their classes a significant portion of the time. ambulatory wheelchair user is a huge gradient of experiences, the ambulatory wheelchair users who get approval for custom wheelchairs are on the side of the spectrum much closer to being entirely unable to walk.

I am often used comparatively by people who have substantially more mobility than me. people will hold up my wheelchair approval and say "look! he got a wheelchair! why can't I get a wheelchair?" statements like this diminish the circumstances I was in when I got that approval. when people hold me up as "the ambulatory wheelchair user who got a custom wheelchair approved" but they're attending school and going to the grocery store they are dismissing a substantial portion of my life where I was a near full time wheelchair user. it shows they don't understand my experience. no, it isn't okay that so many ambulatory wheelchair users are denied custom wheelchairs that they need, but I am not an example of inconsistency unless you too are taking under 150 steps a day. it just makes me feel so used and misunderstood.

truly the most frustrating experience is being told I am "lucky" for having insurance approve my wheelchair. I did not get an approval through luck. it was not chance, it was significant mobility disability. it completely erases the difference in the experience of being an occasional wheelchair user and being a wheelchair user who can only take 25 steps at a time. back when I was less ambulatory I regularly heard (and still hear) people talk to me about how they wish they were me because they don't have a custom wheelchair but if they did they'd use it every time they left the house. they gloss over the fact that I don't get a choice. if I don't leave the house in my wheelchair I am not leaving the house.

it's all just exhausting to deal with. I wish people realized the difference in our circumstances better.

-> this is a post about people with insurance being denied, not about people without access to insurance <-

[sunhighriptide]

My Headcanons for the Spice Tolerance of various members and associates of the batfamily.

DICK: He isn't a wimp, but also not a spicy fan. Give him sweet any day. He'll eat the hot sauce from your local mexican restaurant but will avoid spicy challenges at all costs. Has been burned by Jason's food more than once. Does have a liking for sour candy.

BARBARA: Not terrible, but very much not her thing. She likes sour and occasionally bitter. She will not eat your hot sauce. Handles it much better than some, but would rather not purposefully eat pain, thank you very much.

JASON: Spice King. There is almost no food he will not try. Had a high spicy tolerance before he died, after the pit and his world travels, nothing phases him. He loves Alfred's cooking, and it will always be his comfort food, but his palette is way more adventurous. He will only tone his cooking down for Alfred and Barabara. If anyone else wants to eat his food, they can shut up and deal. He doesn't have to feed them.

I don't really have an opinion on Helena. Probably similar to Dick's.

TIM: The biggest wimp to ever wimp. His taste buds are mostly destroyed, so if you feed him spicy food, he won't notice for the first five minutes. Until he realizes his mouth is on fire and is finally distracted from whatever he is working on. The burning will linger for the rest of the day, and he won't talk to the person responsible for a week. He used to gulp water until Steph told him that makes it worse, and he should use milk instead. He figured coffee has enough milk content. Both Damian and Jason have used this against him.

STEPHANIE: Suprisingly impressive. She can nearly match Damian, and no one but Cass can tell she's dying inside towards the end of the hot sauce challenge. She once attempted to eat Jason's spiciest dish while looking him dead on before bailing to the bathroom about six seconds in. Jason never told her it wasn't quite the spicest dish he makes.

CASSANDRA: She doesn't like spicy food and is fully okay with that. Sure, she can tolerate it, but as Barbara said, why would she willingly eat pain? Jason doesn't mind because it is Cass, and she's really chill about it. He'll give her the mild version he makes for Alfred and Babs.

DAMIAN: Obviously, he can handle spicy food, how dare you insult his constitution, plebian. Nothing in the U.S. is going to trip him up, especially nothing in New Jersey, but there are spices he would rather not suffer through, though he will never admit to such a weakness.

KATE: Enjoys spicy food, but European level spicy. She can handle anything found in Italy, no problem, but Indian becomes a problem.

ALFRED: He is English. No, he doesn't like spicy food. He will never like spicy food. This is okay, we still love him.

BRUCE: It is a very good thing he has a nearly perfect poker face because Talia would never have married such a wimp. Feed the white boys (Tim and Bruce), a pepper, and watch Ra's al ghul loose all interest. That's my solution. Cannot handle the slightest spice. The grocery store mild salsa is a danger to him. Will lie to your face about it. Lives in fear of his family discovering this weakness.

[strayheartless]

A headcanon I have about Sephiroth is that he’s pretty agoraphobic outside of going to work on missions. He doesn’t really like being outside if he’s not contracted to be there because people perceive him. Even if he manages, by the grace of the gods, to go under the radar, he is still activly hating every second of being outside.

If Genesis or Angeal are with him he’s a bit better. He trusts that they will take care of him and not let anyone come up to him or crowd him. But the minute he has to go on his own? Absolutely not.

He needs food for the week? It’s fine he’ll just starve.

He has run out of Conditioner? He’ll steal Gens.

There’s a really cool thing going on across town that only he is interested in? Crippling disappointment but you still could not fork lift him out of the building.

It’s Bad. With a capital B.

Even when he’s out with his friends he holds Genesis’ sleeve in crowds and keeps close to Angeal’s back. Both of them have little tug marks on all of their civilian clothing that is affectionately-yet also concernedly- referred to as Sephi-tug’s. He needs to be able to reach his hand out to them otherwise they are too far away.

He doesn’t do Bars; he just about manages Theatres because Genesis always pays for box seats; he accepts grocery stores as long as Angeal is with him and he is in charge of the cart. And it’s something that brings him no small amount of shame.

I have this headcanon not because I read Seph as autistic (although I do like that reading.). No, I have this headcanon because Sephiroth grew up in a lab, and I don’t think proper socialising was ever on Hojo’s list of priorities.

We see a little bit of his engagement with the outside world in Ever Crisis and it’s kind of a similar vibe. However as someone who struggles to leave the house independently themselves, Sephiroth gives off the same vibe that I feel when trying to convince myself to walk to the supermarket.

He needs a plan off attack and a buddy. If a task needs done but requires him to go out and buy the stuff to get it done, without a companion? It’s not getting done. End of story. This has knock on effects for him such as, not being able to clean effectively, or shower effectively or handle social interaction outside of his chosen people.

He never had to go outside for anything mundane as a child, so he has no idea how to even breath in the space. It’s scary and apart from being abandoned or never finding his mother, it is one of Sephiroth’s greatest fears.

After Genesis and Angeal leave he doesn’t go out, period. Lazard starts having things delivered to him and once Zack realises how bad it gets, he starts picking up stuff when he goes out with Cloud or Kunsel or to see Aerith. There has been many times he has paused their date so that he can Ring Sephiroth and find out if he has food in or what brand of Shampoo he wants. Aerith thinks it’s sweet. Zack doesn’t want to explain that it’s not just cause he knows he needs it, it’s because if he doesn’t buy it Sephiroth will literally starve himself.

[trivialbob]

As I mentioned recently, I have been going downtown to the office a few times a week to work. I'm not required to, but I miss downtown (or at least what I remember it used to be like*) and I like riding my bike to get there.

You know how easy it is to flip off or scream at another driver? Most people don't behave like that to another shopper who is in the way in a grocery store aisle. Face to face changes how people interact with each other. Inside a locked car people are fearless, easily and loudly explaining to a fellow motorist how stupid they are.

I've noticed this phenomena at work. There's a woman I recently met in person for the first time. For no valid reason, other than her voice and mannerisms annoy me, I've disliked her immensly.

When I finally got a chance to speak in person with her, it was clear she's super nice. She gladly helped me with something that saved me a lot of time. I'm relieved I never yelled at or flipped her off in a video phone call.

There are two other people I have been around in the office. Neither is familiar to me; we don't work in the same divisions. I don't know their names, but they both sit near me.

One is quiet. Except for when he drinks out of his insulated metal water bottle. He shakes and twirls it, making the ice cubes clang against the side. It's horrible. I've silently harbored ill feelings about this man.

Then one day he overheard me talking to a close coworker about something in our building. He politely added to our conversation some useful information. Suddenly he wasn't this awful person, because I finally chatted with him. The guy is actually nice. The water bottle noise is still annoying, but I lost the urge to dent his head with that bottle.

The other guy who sits by me, well I haven't found a reason to talk to him yet. Every morning he walks in holding a Clorox wipe in each hand. Every surface of the desk gets wiped before he sits down. The rest of the day he will touch other surfaces with bare hands, even the handle to the rest room door. If he's a germaphobe he's not good at being one.

For breakfast this guy eats some slurry out of a Mason jar at his desk. Even now I can hear the metal spoon scraping against the inside of the clear glass jar as he tries to get every last drop of whatever is in there. I don't know what he's eating but I assume it would make me barf. When the jar is empty he sets it aside then lets out a small belch every time I am there. When I notice he's almost finished I walk away, knowing the little belch is coming.

I really need to say hi and introduce myself to him, before I'm fired for assaulting a fellow employee.

[arlo-venn]

Gonna go to St. Vincent (thrift store) tomorrow to see if they have any suitable wheelchairs for super cheap 👀 They often do! I tried calling today today to ask if they had any in, but no one answered the phone either time.

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

So anyway you repeatedly say we only feel corn husks and similar inedible parts to cattle but Never add a source to back it up. Having worked on farms I’m afraid for the most part the feeds I’ve seen have been parts entirely edible to humans. And like fuck man 5% of all grown soy is fed to humans or however the stat goes, do you really think the remaining 95% is inedible? really?

Anyway yeah I’m asking for a source here cause I don’t want to add this on to months old post

Ingredients such as “grain by-products” are referring to the husks, stalks, and other “green” parts of the plant that we humans don’t actually have the digestive capabilities to eat. The breakdown of most livestock feeds looks like the above when you actually take a look at it.

Different cattle feed, similar ingredients. Still primarily things that, and I have to stress this, you cannot eat. This one is slightly higher in quality and does indeed have actual grain products included. Some of those are edible to humans. Some are not. Generally cattle are fed cattle cubes with supplemental mineral licks and hay. Some also supplement with whole corn, but I can gladly assure you that corn is not in short supply and even if all the corn sold to animal feed was donated to the poor, you can’t actually live off of corn because there’s very little nutrition in it. Hence why in both human and animal food it’s typically seen as a filler ingredient. Keeps the mouth busy with a meal without making your stomach feel full and you end up eating more without feeling satisfied.

Soybeans are really only often used in feed for pigs because they’re a great source of protein for these animals. I would state that soy is also a terrible option to use as an emergency food for humans in need because while, yes, it is indeed a healthy bean, it’s also one of the top eight foods that humans are frequently allergic or intolerant towards. I’d also ask you for whether your 5% of all grown soy statistic is referring to the beans or the entire plant because yeah the beans are the edible part. The rest of the plant isn't especially healthy for humans to eat. I would say the beans are around 5% of a mature soy plant sure.

[padawansuggest]

Okay so once more, I ask of assistance. Not like… required but I’m not gonna lie, this could improve my life to such a significant degree that I’m asking anyways.

So. I have a lot of disabilities that make it hard to get around, but what I’m asking for is help with getting a bike… not really, I need a trike… I know that’s to embarrassing to say as an adult but with my instability I don’t have the ability to keep upright on a bike. I need a trike.

I live in a VERY bike friendly town. It’s small (tho I’m still limited to very small parts of the town because I can only walk for so long and in this heat that’s a very short amount of time) and we actually have dedicated bike lanes here. We even have started construction on multiple bike lanes with center dividers to keep cars out of them, that’s how much this town is friendly to bikes.

And frankly the price isn’t that high either. Like 280$ or so, and I can order one on Amazon (no I cannot buy a trike in this town) and they have them with the giant baskets in the back for groceries and I can get a personal shopping basket for the front of the cart and that would bet. Awesome.

So. Ultimately, I would like a better quality of life and being restricted to a very small part of town because of mobility is kind of sad… I will accept any help you guys wanna give and drop into my PayPal in the bio.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

the amount of effort that goes into figuring out what to cook and eat every day is RIDICULOUS. i used to think people were so weird and boring for eating the same thing every single day but it truly does make life so much easier

[talkorsomething]

I have Got to get more transgender

[martyrbat]

so many of you talk about the cruel adults in your childhood that negatively effected you and caused lifelong insecurity yet you're still perfectly fine with being that mean stranger to any kid that has the misfortune of existing around you and thats just really gross !!!

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Fuck dysphoria, dresses are the coolest shit ever and I need to start wearing them more

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"So, what all are we looking for here, lass? What do you want to take home the most right now?"

In a way, Wilhelm was reminded of his own packing back in Ireland, his preparation for his travels to the States: He remembered walking around his room, his house, trying to think of what he wished to take with him the most. He tried to focus on the important things: Clothes, of course, a photo album, an Irish flag, his mother's tea set, but there were more personal, sentimental items he thought about taking-childhood toys, knickknacks and bric-a-brac, little things he still had an emotional investment in...he didn't have enough room in his suitcase to take it all with him, he knew, but it wasn't for a lack of trying.

"Are these any heirlooms in the house, anything very valuable you want to move out?" June asked, trying to see the situation a touch practically: Given how much time Emily had spent at their home, her own home must've looked quite dark and uninhabited, and so a part of her feared some hooligans might want to break in and try to steal the silverware, so valuables were at the top of the list.

At the mention of valuables, Randall immediately thought of the veil: If there was anything that fit under that descriptor, his masterpiece would be it, and that would be the first thing he'd make sure to grab for Emily.

[dredshirtroberts]

yeah guys idk I'm just thinking maybe the lightheadedness and desire to sit down about halfway through putting away groceries my whole life might not have just been a reaction to the way my parents were when i was a kid and the accompanying anxiety and sudden flurry of movement, but also possibly maybe i have a Health Thing about this...

[piplupod]

one of the cashiers at the grocery store i go to is so fucking fixated on shoplifters and it drives me crazy any time i check out through him (i try to avoid him but his checkout is often the most open/empty - hm! i wonder why! - and im often on a tight schedule w the bus). he brings up shoplifters every opportunity he gets and he seems so convinced that theyre a huge problem.

BUT WHAT REALLY GETS ME ,,, is that today the customer in front of me was needing a price check on one of the items bc it should've come out to be cheaper, so he was kind of apologetic abt it and saying "ah well, yknow, six dollars is six dollars, especially with how expensive groceries are right now" and i was nodding and agreeing (trying to show that i dont mind the wait and also solidarity my guy good for u for speaking up and getting the price fixed on that) AND THE CASHIER AGREES. FULLY ACKNOWLEDGES AND BEMOANS THE FACT THAT GROCERIES ARE CRAZY RN. AND THEN GOES ON TO COMPLAIN ABOUT SHOPLIFTERS. HUH ??????

so you agree that groceries are unreasonably expensive... and that sometimes ppl can't afford them... and yet ....................

[iamthepulta]

I put the clothes in the washer on a whim and now I don't want to rotate them. I'm in bed with cat :( :( I have tea and I sent my last email for the night and now I want to hide and die.

I'm supposed to host a board game night tomorrow and that is like- the last thing I want to do.