#doing fucking laundry. and other basic household chores

[moonstandardtime]

iiiii kind of hate that joke. the "aging userbase" thing. did you not have to do chores as a kid. did you not exist before you turned 20?

[missjashin]

Steve spending the night at Eddie’s because his parents are home and they’ve been arguing so he doesn’t really wanna be at home. Didn’t go to Robin because her parents might not let him stay the night and also Robin has work tomorrow and Steve doesn’t. The odd case of them not having shift together.

So he ends up with Eddie and in the morning he is having breakfast with Eddie and Wayne and they discuss their plans for the day. Eddie and Wayne have some plans for the day. You know, to spend some quality family time maybe? Or maybe they have just some errands to run, stuff to figure out because of all the shit that went down during spring break.. Whatever, they have plans for the day and Steve.. doesn’t want to intrude any more than he already is so he is not going with them. Even when they say he can come too.

And it’s summer time so the kids are busy with whatever the teens are busy with. And Steve loves them dearly and loves spending time with them but he tries to give them space and not smother them with his worrying so yeah he can’t spend the day with them either. They’ll come to him if they need him.. He could always go bother Robin at work but going to your work place on your free day because you have nothing better to do sounds a little sad.. So maybe he’ll just have to suck it up and go back home then.

But then Eddie offers that he could stay. You know he doesn’t have to leave just because Wayne and Eddie do. Like he could stay, it’s fine. They’ll be back by 6 or so and they could have dinner together then? And since Steve really really really doesn’t want to go home right now he accepts (after asking about thousand times if it’s really okay tho).

So soon he is left alone with a “Feel free to educate yourself with my music collection while we’re gone” and see you laters. Steve didn’t really have any plans for today and he kinda left in a hurry too so he didn’t bring much stuff with him but oh well he’ll figure something out.

He starts collecting the breakfast dishes and well he could wash them. He has the time and it would be just nice little gesture since the Munsons let him stay and all. And then it just makes sense to wipe the counters and the table after that. Like who would wash the dishes and then just leave crumbs all over the place? Oh. And I guess he just got some of those crumbs to the floor now. Well it’s just a quick little sweep. Could vacuum the whole place now too since he started. But first he needs to declutter a bit because goddamn Eddie why are your clothes and books just everywhere. Might as well do some laundry while he’s at it.

When Eddie and Wayne come back home around 6pm the place they’re in for a quite a shock. Not only is the place spotless but they’re greeted with the smell of food as well. “Oh you’re back! I’m making dinner, it’s just about done” Steve welcomes them enthusiastically but start to doubt himself a little after seeing the surprised faces. “I.. hope that’s okay”

Only then Steve realizes he may have got little carried away with his cleaning spree. Like maybe cleaning the windows was a tad bit too much.. Ugh he so hopes they’re not too weirded out.. Honestly he didn’t even realize he basically spent all day doing household chores that and it’s not even his own house. He glad the Munsons don’t comment on it too much tho, other than “you didn’t have to” and slightly awkward thank yous.

They start eating and now they drown Steve in compliments. (“Wow this is so good, what brand is this?” “Uhm.. it’s not a-.. I made it” “…Like from scratch?!” “Yeah..” “Holy shit dude this is seriously so fucking delicious” “Language. But he is right son, this is fucking delicious”)

At some point during dinner Wayne makes a comment about it starting to rain and Steve lets out a shocked gasp “my laundry!” and rushes out to collect it from outside where he hung it to dry. Wayne asks amusedly if Steve is a housewife or something, just ready to crack little jokes there but then spots the dopey smile on his nephew’s face, gaze still lingering in the doorway where Steve run off to. He smiles knowingly at Eddie when he finally looks back at him, now starting to blush and trying to stammer some sort of reply.

Steve comes back in and they finish dinner and hang out a bit together until Steve and Eddie go to Eddie’s room. Steve again apologizes because he got so carried away and hope he didn’t cross any lines. Eddie little amusedly asks if Steve really thinks they’d be mad at him for tidying up the place? Just helping them out a little so they can relax? Like in all seriousness, after all that shit show that happened during spring, Wayne could use a little break and just relax.

(“And you couldn’t?” “Well sure I could, but in this case he needs it more. If you haven’t noticed I’m not much of help in the cleaning department” “Oh yeah, I’ve noticed” “Hey!” “What? You asked!”)

Eddie then asks if Steve “educated himself” with the music. Steve tells to educate him himself. Eddie takes that as a challenge.

Steve spends the other night.

[curioushabitforarivergod]

Your historical metas are so good!! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us. Would tom have worked growing up? Also would he have had any schooling? What kind of future would he have expected to have after growing up?

Omg thank you! I'm glad you enjoy them <33

Tom likely would not have had a paying job during and pre-WWII. For the first reason, he's too young pre-WWII. Laws introduced during the Victorian period largely protected children from working (outside the home) by limiting working hours and by the 20th century and particularly following WWI, child labour had died down substantially. Yes, it still existed, but Tom was more likely to be involved in household enterprises which is basically just the fancy name for working from home. I've mentioned this before, but Tom would've been expected to take care of the younger kids as well as doing other chores. He would've had to take part in laundry, potentially cooking, cleaning and general upkeep. He would've been busy, but it's what everyone in the orphanage would've done. Funding only stretched so far and it certainly didn't stretch far enough to employ any one to do those jobs.

Tom would've gone school. Depending on the size of Wool's, this would've been at the orphanage itself, or at the local school. In the 1920s and 1930s, school was compulsory for all children aged 5-14 and Tom would've also been expected to go to Sunday School. It wasn't to the same standards we have now, though. School focused on the three Rs — reading, writing and arithmetic (yes I'm aware only one of them starts with R. They really didn't follow their own advice) — as well as emphasising the importance of King and Country. The 20s and 30s were a highly nationalistic period (which in part caused WWII) and schools were not excluded in this. Tom would've written on a slate with chalk and caning was common.

If Tom had been muggle, he would've left school around 14 and found either an apprenticeship or (more likely) gone to work in a factory or in the docks. I'm not sure how the war would've interfered with this and I'm not sure what Tom would've done. He would likely remain in the East End for his whole life, never breaking free of the lower classes (class mobility is ROUGH in the UK even to this day). He may have married, but I don't think this is really on point for Tom (who I tend to read as either gay as fuck or asexual). Still, he may have married and may have had kids, I just don't know. I wonder how far he would've gone with doing what was 'expected' of him.

Even with the war, I believe Borgin and Burkes was Tom's first actual job. Tom would've been pretty stuck in the muggle world without a ration card and the magical world is so heavily rooted in blood prejudice and connections that Tom wouldn't have been able to get a job. I don't think he could exactly put Heir of Slytherin on his CV.

[deathsdivinity]

I LOVED YOUR NEW FIC SOSOMUCH god grace max messy undefinable relationship is so fucking real I'm obsessed w it. they should make each other worse but also better but also worse but also a secret third thing...

BAWL S MY EYES OUT thank you SO MUCH !!!!!!!!!! WORSE BUT ALSO BETTER BUT ALSO WORSE BUT ALSO SECRET THIRD THING IS SO FUCKING TRUE.

no bc like. they're SO insanely important to me it is Unreal. just. just. two people with such vastly different families raised such vastly different ways but both SO damaging both SO bad for them... the thought of recognizing some of that in each other....... just. just. idk. something about learning so much about another person and them helping you to learn so much about yourself, without even meaning to. realizing how little they both know about what it means to live their own lives what it means to do what THEY want to do what it means to want anything at all.

they're both such fucking control freaks too like. max having the entire school under his thumb, controlling everyone around him, he gets no say in his own life but he can have a say in theirs, grace having no say in her own life but pretending she does pretending it IS her choice it IS what she wants both of them deluding themselves into thinking this is something they want something they enjoy this is how they're meant to live...

grace only barely actually believing in christianity. max thinking his life will be over after high school.

ohhhh and thats not even getting into queer stuff... the thought of max as transmasc or grace as transfem or both, the thought of grace as transmasc or max as transfem or both, any exploration of gender or sexuality and how that would help shape their relationship and define the trust they have in each other.,..

just !! just !!!! i LOVE the idea of them moving out together, neither family realizing their kid has a roommate bc grace would NEVER be allowed to live with max and max would NEVER be allowed to live with grace, both breaking the rules both creating this safe space within their own defiance...

the thought of like. maybe grace has never learned how to do basic household chores because someone else has always done it for her and she hasnt really been allowed to try and learn, maybe max had NEEDED to learn because if he didnt do it nobody else would and he can teach her or maybe it'd be reversed and she could teach him or maybe NEITHER of them know and they both learn how to cook and clean and do laundry and everything together...

grace NEVER being allowed to explore her sexuality in any way, ever, not even being allowed to THINK about it, and her and max being nonromantic but they still grow so close and so trusting and there's so much they don't know and its just. even when they havent known each other long even when there hasnt been much time for that trust to grow, the other person is someone safe. they can talk about these things they can have questions they can explore, they're allowed to feel the way they feel allowed to express themselves the way they want to allowed to believe what they want to believe.........

fighting and arguing and getting angry and they're allowed to do that, too, they can BE upset they can LEAVE if they want to and they can always, always come back. being able to actually sit down and talk things out. being able to be honest with both each other and themselves.

idk !!!!!! learning how to live together. learning what it means to exist for themselves together. even if they didnt STAY together or anything, ive never really considered them in the Long Term, just. being able to do so much for each other in the time that they DO spend together. whhhhhhatever i dont even care. they mean nothing to me. i dont fucki,ng care abou t them.

[onlyonewoman]

As a 40+ woman who's a hardcore feminist and is quite good with both the rolling pin, the sewing machine, actual handwashing clothes, drying herbs and shit like that: I HATE the current tradwife trend on social media for three main reasons: 1. It romantisizes a period of time in history where women literally had less choices in every single aspect of her life than now. 2. You NEVER hear women in their 80's gushing about what an amazing life they had as stay-at-home wives - let alone how happy their own mothers were. You only hear those who have the luxuary to choose. 3. These so called tradwives are, based on what the average houswife was capable of between, lets say, 1900-1950~ish, nothing but a bunch of vlogging cosplayers who love to pretend they're not telling other young women how they should live. I'm sorry, Mrs. Cosplay Wife, but unless your hands are sore, strong and sinewy from hours of physical labor, your pantry stuffed with boring jars of boring food you're preserving in various ways and you know how to mend clothes both by hand and on machine, you're nothing but a fraud. A real damn house wife is someone who works hard around the house to provide for her family - however it may look. It means long hours of sometimes really boring labour. It means knowing how to take GOOD care of the households clothes and linen. Not just throwing them in on a whim in the machine. NO! We're talking meticulous care here - and lots of ironing and, if possible, mangling. It means preparing and cooking meals every fucking day, doing the dishes, the basic plumbing, getting your ass out into the fucking woods during berry season when others lay on the beach! Forget about spending quality time with your kids - they're either in school, doing homework, helping with chores or out playing. Your husband is too busy trying to support a family of too fucking many on a salary that was good enough in the 50's, but not now, so how about some goddamn reality check? If you're blogging/vlogging about how much you love the 1950's estethics and how much you love cupcakes and traditional values, you're just a young, privileged snob, rich enough to not know a flying fuck about how the real housewives in the 1850 ruined their hands with laundry before turning 30 or how those who took drugs to keep the depression at bay in the 1950's felt, because without a world of strangers constantly engaging with and making you earn YOUR OWN money instead of forcing you to ask your husband for it (because, you know, traditional wives HAD NO FINANCIAL FREEDOM), all those colorful, expensive brand kitchen stuff you're prancing around, all the sponsorships and your own bank account, you'd be just as stuck as the women you're trying to cosplay as. You're not traditional, you just have a thing for a certain aestethic and that's fine. But remember: as long as you earn more on strutting around in chechered aprons that aren't made to spill on, moving through you sparkling kitchen with 50 gadgets your great grandma couldn't even imagine over her depressing zinc tub with dirty dishes, than the average worker at a laundry, a restaurant, a goddamn sweatshop couldn't even dream of buying despite working as hard as the actual homemakers did back when managing a home meant absolutely vital stuff for a family to survive, you don't get to point that well-manicured finger at those who call you out on your bullshit. You're not traditional. You're influencers with advertisers who're using your homes, looks - and sometimes your kids - to earn money by cosplaying a 1950's look that most families - especially the non-white and the disabled - weren't a part of. And on top of it, you can't even darn a fucking sock without ruining your expensive manecure. My great grandma would've eaten you for breakfast - before heading out to march for voting rights.

[greywolfheirs]

This is so.......

The argument of "well his mom did his laundry" is a direct reaction to his writing that basically says to fuck off to the middle of nowhere and isolate yourself within nature and you'll be better for it. And because of that writing people are like "ah I see, I need to become a hermit with no human connections because people are the problem and nature is the solution" and he is a Great Man for finding out this truth and sticking to his guns and doing everything on his own like a Real Man. Because Real Men do everything on their own, including laundry and household chores

It leads to a way of thinking that "well actually he had help" completely ruins. Because no one before was saying he didn't need human connection or that helping someone out with laundry isn't a great thing to do for someone depressed. But after he wrote the book, it was assumed he HAD done all of it on his own and he didn't NEED other people and it was just the being outside in nature part that healed him. His mom doing his laundry was a footnote in that healing that he didn't care to mention.

Like??? OP you're not wrong about human connection but even Thoreau didn't come to that conclusion. Because he ignored all the kindness he was receiving to say that actually it was a quiet time in nature that fixes the Issues.

I hate the “Thoreau’s mom did his laundry” criticism so much, it drives me crazy.

Henry Thoreau did not go to Walden Pond because he thought it would be a fun adventure. He went into the woods because he was deeply depressed and burnt out. He was running from the horror of his brother and best friend recently dying in his arms, and the haunting memory of causing the Fairhaven Bay fire. His friend Ellery Channing literally gave him the ultimatum of either taking some time off to write and think, or else be institutionalized.

I think Thoreau’s mother saw her depressed son choosing to retreat into a small cabin in the woods, and was worried about him. Of course she did his laundry - just as Ralph Waldo Emerson probably brought him firewood and bread. These were not chores of obligation to support a “great” man, but services of love to help their deeply depressed 28yo son and friend.

And if you ask me, there’s a lesson in that - to “suck out the marrow of life” and “live deliberately,” one must also accept help offered from the people in your life who love you. There is no true transcendentalism or individualism without love and friendship behind it.

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

Not done a life update in a bit. Sorry man. I doubt anyone actually reads this nonsense but eh.

First & foremost, ya girl obtained a button maker & is making buttons of FUCKING EVERYTHING. I love it. Other WIP include hand painting doodles on my headboard with micro brushes & craft paint. It's a good thing to do when bedridden. I beat BOTW & TOTK, then beat both of the first 2 Southpark Games, & bought a bundle of 50 Sega Genesis games that I mess around with when I get tired of puzzling over Shadows Over Loathing.

Yesterday I dismembered a swing set that was sketchy in its structural integrity & am using scrap to make a cat tree that the cats can use to come & go from my bathroom window. (Don't worry, I'm not a moron. We made it so they can't get out of our yard the same way we did for the chickens.) I replaced our sliding glass door because it was gonna Final Destination someone & statistically I was most at risk. So I ripped it all out & replaced it will new framing, french doors, drywall, siding, and a dog door.

The Man is still running for mayor. We will see how that shakes out. He has low key given me license to decorate/renovate however I see fit because I have good taste, talent, skill, and as he put it "the one who is legit trapped here the most & thus should have it decorated to enrich your enclosure, babygirl". That man is absurd... but not wrong.

Beyond that, there's not much. The Spawn is in her first apartment with a girlfriend from work, so I get calls about storage solutions, plants, and asking to raid my fridge. Oh and the one call in which 3 girls in the background were gushing because the gist of the call was "Mom everyone wants a fruit hammock like you made for me".

The 3 Bonus Kids are OK. The eldest starts h.s. next semester & is trying out for football & has really turned things around for the most part. The middle starts m.s. next year & is behaving like a middle school girl, but is also very sweet. The youngest is still on her "oh I'm just a little baby who can't use her words & wants her dada" bullshit despite her mother's second child approaching a year of existence. I basically just pretend I don't understand or hear her until she uses actual words & I don't do tantrums. You wanna scream because you didn't get your way? Cool, but you're gonna do it in your room. The older 2 have realized that I will absolutely pay them CASH if they do chores, so I made an alacart style list of chores, the definition of said chore, and the payment for it if done correctly and they know that I will happily supervise & help them learn. I think it helps that I have really framed it as chores and stuff are meant to give them the independence of having money while teaching them necessary skills for adulting (cleaning, cooking, budgeting). Plus, you are a member of the household community & thus should contribute in whatever way you can. Example: the youngest is 6, but helps me change laundry over (saving my back), puts her laundry away, likes to clean mirrors or magic eraser the walls.

Oh yeah and I'm at a point where the unrelenting agony & exhaustion have made me enraged, as happens when spring hits after a long winter sometimes. Hence the murder of the swing set & my upcoming relocation & repair of the chicken fence.

[deadletterpoets]

I just got done ironing a shirt before I go to work and I was thinking about how when I was in high school I was constantly told by older women (30s or higher) that I was a catch cause I knew how to iron and do laundry and wash dishes by hand and a ton of other mundane household chores/basic needs type things. And that kinda made me become more attractive to older women cause none of the girls my age gave a FUCK about a boy being able to do that shit.

And now I'm at the age (30s) and ppl my age still don't give a fuck that I do that only now I am more aware that I also have depression and social anxiety, and my self confidence is a rollercoaster day by day and *that's* the actual reason I'm single. Not cause other ppl don't care about me doing chores well

[pheemuru]

I want to get a little personal for a sec

Below the cut I'm going to talk about my struggle with art, energy, time management, and trying to be an artist in the current social media climate while having a full time job in an unrelated field

In august 2023, i moved out of my parents home for the first time--I moved out of state and got a full time job. this is a good thing and a super positive life event for me! I'm now living with my partner of nearly 7 years and my best friend of 5.

However my relationship with art since before I even moved out... has been really rocky. My job now occupies my time for 6 hours a day 5 days a week. I work from 6:45 am - 10 am (im including travel time here because its still my time thats occupied by work...) and then I have a break until 2 pm. Then I work 2 - 6 pm, and depending on where I'm working at, I get home anywhere from 6-7 pm. I go to bed at 11 pm (This is a very big struggle mentally for me since my jobs schedule is very much opposite of how my body functions. I'm a night owl and not at all an early bird.) This is my monday thru friday.

By the time the weekend comes, I have other household chores to keep up with before I feel like I'm "allowed" to waste my time basically. I also use my time just... recovering for the next week. Every night I get home from work I take a couple edibles to wind down and relax, which is possibly the best part of my day when I finally get to turn my brain off from having to mask and wrangle 30 something kids throughout the day. (daycare aide moment)

How this relates to my art is that I really have zero drive to do any kind of art. I have no ideas. I see stuff online and think "wow I want to do that, I wish I thought of it". Creativity doesn't come naturally to me if it isn't the result of a college assignment or a commission. I struggle a LOT with concepting and sketching. I genuinely don't know how to doodle anymore either

In 2024 I want to focus a lot more on what's going to make me feel satisfied in a career, and so far the only option I have for that is making art my full time gig. However, anyone that is trying that or has tried that knows how difficult that is and how unrealistic it is to just be able to do that with no build up.

Here's where my struggle comes in; I have no fucking energy for anything anymore. I got diagnosed with adhd and autism last year, or just about last year. My job is insanely socially heavy (I'm around 30+ kids and have to manage them) so by the time that I get home, I just want to get stoned and watch movies. I don't want to create. I don't want to do anything. not even shit i like to do.

drawing has become so fucking hard for me. it takes me so goddamn long to finish a piece, I get overwhelmed by current trends, and it doesnt help that the fact of the matter is, social media has moved onto video formats. This means I will have to keep up with video trends to get any kind of eyes on my work. But how do you keep up with video trends when you don't even have any art to show to begin with, nonetheless ones that fit with the theme of the trends going around?

So now I need to make supplementary/filler recordings to fill out content if I want to be serious about my social media presence. On top of the fact I actually have to create art. On top of the fact that there's dishes in my sink every day and laundry that has to be done every week and groceries that have to be shopped for and a job that has to be attended to five days a week. I know 30 hours a week truly is not as much as others work to be full time but my god is it exhausting? All this shit on top of itself makes me feel like I regret moving out a little bit. Overall I don't, because I don't have to live with my parents and I can relax around my partner, but like. oh my god?

literally how does anyone live like this and not want to kill themselves. I had to get a zoloft script because i kept having mental breakdowns every sunday because I have to go back to fucking work and I never feel like I have enough time to do anything meaningful. by the time my brain is like, "ready" to work, its 9 pm and i have to get ready for bed in 2 hours.

I've contemplated getting my masters in teaching to be an art teacher, but I really wouldn't.. want to do that for the rest of my life? you don't really get days off if you need it, youre obligated to work outside of work hours just to get anything done, parents right now kind of suck, school admins also suck, curriculums are cutting art programs, and kids are also becoming so much more disengaged with art at younger ages.

with the state of everything I find it really hard not to just spiral into a depressive episode. I don't know what my future holds. Sure, I have my parents as a safety net now, but theyre approaching their 70s and arent going to be around for the majority of the rest of my life. what happens then? what happens when theyre gone and i have literally no other support beyond the little life i made for myself right now? i already feel like im not allowed to prioritize myself at the moment given my position in the household (full time consistent job that pays somewhat decent ((Decent being $16.75/hour lol)) for the area im in, im the one that can drive, im the one with the largest paycheck and most consistent hours). I can't really get days off at work if I wake up having a panic attack or even physical sickness. I'm supposed to just deal with it and clock in because we dont have enough people to cover last minute like that. And I'm someone with (honestly) debilitating stomach issues. I had to have an upper endoscopy and tests done which only yield so much if you don't follow up with an allergist, which I still have yet to do...

Currently I'm supposed to set up appointments for my dentist, an allergist, a cardiologist, and I need to contact my psych because my pharmacy told me my zoloft cant be refilled (second month on it btw lol).

so like. when the fuck am i supposed to have any kind of every to dedicate to a second part time job, my own fucking art business? the thing i want to be the most passionate about, i have no energy left for. I feel so wildly unsatisfied in my life right now because of this. I'm struggling. I'm struggling a lot and I wish i didn't have to work at all. I wish I could just have my art be my full time thing, but I dont have the audience nor the social media prowess to make that happen so quickly.

I'm tired. I'm fucking tired. everyone keeps saying "take care of yourself" or "self care" but jesus christ how am i supposed to when i cant even just work 4 days a week consistently because for whatever reason I'm the only person at my job that can do what i do? how am i supposed to practice self care when that self care would mean i quit my fucking job lol. i'm at such a loss and i feel like im just letting the time pass by like grains of sand in an hourglass. being torn between wanting to die and wanting to push through is a fucking insane feeling. all we do in life is struggle until we die and I'm finding it harder and harder to get over that kind of mental hurdle. every time i drive i have to fight the genuine intrusive thoughts of yanking the steering wheel to put myself in a ditch with my car just to give myself a couple weeks of a break.

I'm tired. And there's nothing i can do about it. how long can one weather a storm before getting lost at sea

[thevirgodoll]

I 22f have been with my boyfriend 25m for two years now. We moved in together in January of this year. At the time I had been working two jobs for the last year and a half 6 am to 12am doubles. I was pretty burnt out but saving so much money. Also at the time my boyfriend was working a job that paid 1200$ a week. Before moving in and for a month after We lived a baller lifestyle, he won me over because he had a cool car and took me out and showed me off and brought me flowers and coffee to work and just wanted me around all the time. On my own I was able to lead a pretty good independent lifestyle, shopping and shows and vacations and helping my mom with bills. Eventually He wanted to "take care of me" and even offered to let me use both his credit cards for school related bills (I'm a college student). In January I had quit my morning job for school but was still working nights.It's worth mentioning that I had a pretty decent savings account and enough money in the bank to pay bills for a few months and a 750 credit scorewith paid off credit cards. While I was working nights, he would constantly belittle me when I had a rough night and say things like "if you quit your job and let me take care of you it would be better for both of us" "you should just let me take care of you, I'll give you more money than you'll make" and "that job is so bad for you. It makes you angry and it's causing us to argue".

In February, I got fired and I took it as a sign from the universe to chill out and focus on school that semester. Thus allowing my boyfriend to take care of me. We had an agreement that the whole time he was taking care of me I would do all the household chores, laundry, cooked dinner, went grocery shopping and all around kept a clean and pretty house for us and went to school every day and did homework late every night. Towards the middle of the semester, due to personal reasons he lost his job. This led to him maxing out both his credit cards and both of my credit cards and basically forcing me to drain my whole account for bills. We had gone from a baller lifestyle to barely making rent each month real quick. He's never had a saving account and the last time I made him put money in his savings, he blew every penny on a shit box car and sold it. In April he crashed his brand new 1000$/ month car and used the insurance money to pay bills leaving him with a 1k payment every month that he can't afford. From April-June he didn't look for a job and would yell at me when I tried to get him even out of bed. I attempted during March-June toget a new job to help with bills and also because my bank account was getting dangerously low and he basically told me I couldn't work at a club or a bar and he didn't want me serving and I definitely couldn't do an onlyfans unless I was giving him 60% of the money. He also only wanted me to doordash or Uber eats instead of a proper job. This left me fucked because I've only ever served and bartended and I hate retail. (With GOOD reason) I have health care experience but I didn't want to go back into medical because of COVID. Every time i would bring up me getting a job or wanting to work somewhere he would essentially get extremely angry and would bully me about serving being for losers, and that he didn't want to see me in a bar or club environment, and if he didn't like somewhere (ie Twin Peaks which I tried hard for) then he would constantly talk down on the place and question why I would want to work there.

He also would say that "if I got a job we would never see each other" and that me "constantly trying to work and get a job was pointless and wasn't going to last bc I would just get fired" and "everytime you talk about getting a job we fight, you make us fight" Finally he got a new job and I settled to working just weekends at a restaurant/bar down the street from my house. I'm making less money than I need to pay bills, and he never has a positive bank account (constantly in the negative) and he continues spending up to -1.5k when his account is over drawn. As of September have no more money out of the 10k I had at the beginning of the year, my credit cards are maxed out and I have a 640 credit score. It's so hard not to resent him for his financial irresponsibility but when he refers to me as his "own personal bail out fund" to my face and constantly makes me feel like an atm I really do resent him. He also will get angry, cold shoulder me and tell me that "I should give him money because if I don't I'm refusing to help us" and I'm an "asshole who is so weird about talking about money and never going to make anymore". He makes jokes about me leaving him for a rich guy but never fails to follow with "I may be broke but any other guy will never be me. He'll be abusive and shitty and degrade you and you'll just be miserable in any other relationship. Our lease is up in December and I love him, I don't want to leave him over money because our relationship is perfect otherwise but this feels like a hard dealbreaker that I can't afford.

Girl........my God.......I actually don't have a lengthy post with bullet points or anything for this one. You answered your own question...it's a dealbreaker and he's ruining everything you ever had or could have. I know it's hard to leave abusive relationships from personal experience but when it comes to your future and well being that's when enough has to be enough. Do you want to live the rest of your life with someone who can't even give you basic respect nor agency? I mean be fr. If you had to type all of this to me, you already know the answer. You wouldn't just be leaving him over money, you'd be leaving him over a violation of the relationship and a violation of self. Multiple violations at that. You already know what to do and I need you to make a game plan of how to do it immediately because this will only get worse.

[makeste]

Are there any headcanons that you would like to share? About anything you want.

anon in the absence of specific guidelines I have managed to make this post pretty much entirely about Bakugou. I apologize if you really wanted to know all of my headcanons about Kouda or something lol. but all joking aside he really is the character I think about the most and so probably like 80% of my headcanons are about him, including close to 100% of the headcanons I actually have a solid enough grip on to put into words. anyway here goes.

he does not know how to tie a tie. he was a rowdy little free range knee-scraping grass-staining run-don’t-walk child whose parents only ever managed to wrestle him into formal attire a handful of times for special occasions when he was younger, and then he went to a middle school that used gakuran-style uniforms so he never learned then, either. his dad offered to teach him when U.A. rolled around, but he was all, “fuck off dad, I know how to tie a stupid tie,” because by that time he had grown into a cocky little brat confident in his own skill and naive as to the reality checks of the world, and he genuinely believed with the conviction that only a fifteen-year-old can muster that when the time came he would just magically know how to do it. on the first day of school he got as far as draping the loose tie over his neck and holding one end in each hand before staring at the mirror and abruptly realizing the hole he’d dug himself into. and so rather than admit defeat, he just straight up decided not to wear it. which became a permanent life choice once he got to school and saw how badly Deku’s tie was tied and realized there was no way he could ever risk that kind of humiliation.

in a similar vein, I know there’s a popular fanon that because of his parents’ influence Katsuki has a good sense of fashion, but my own personal headcanon is that this could not be further from the truth lol. it’s not that he has a terrible sense of style, mind you; it’s just that he doesn’t care about it at all. he’s a nerdy jock who spends all his free time studying and lifting weights. this kid literally only wears one color, and that color just so happens to be the easiest possible color to coordinate. he owns like three pairs of shoes max. he wears his pants three sizes up and they drag so much that the hems are all frayed from him constantly stepping on them (literally canon, and one of my favorite details from chapter 218). he just doesn’t give a fuck, so long as the clothes are comfortable and don’t look stupid. he has about a million things he’s more concerned about than what he or anyone else is wearing. in fact I’m 90% sure that his mom still buys most of his clothes, and about 70% convinced he does not even know what size he is.

he’s good at household chores (because he’s good at everything), but hates doing them. aside from cooking, which he enjoys, he will bitch and whine nonstop if forced to do tedious-yet-necessary things like washing dishes and folding laundry. that said, he is a perfectionist, and he also has a lot of experience because his mom made him do chores all the time during the seven trillion times he was grounded while growing up (that’s his estimate, btw, so it may be slightly exaggerated. he was not an easy kid to raise. when your kid’s fuse is about a millimeter long and he has a tendency to literally blow up whenever he throws a fit, you end up with a lot of objects in your house that have been replaced at some point), so if you do actually manage to get him to do the chore, rest assured that chore is getting fucking DONE.

when he was very little he watched an Avengers Endgame-style All Might film where a bunch of bad guys attacked earth and various assorted heroes tried and failed to stop them. then at the climax of the film, All Might showed up and said “I am here”, and everyone got super pumped up and excited because they knew the heroes were going to win with All Might on their side. this scene remains Katsuki’s favorite scene in anything. not the fight -- just the moment where All Might shows up and grins and the audience knows right there and then that he’s going to win. this is the feeling that inspired his dream. he wants to be the one who shows up and everyone is like, “we’re good now; Katsuki is here.”

when he was six or seven he got into a big fight with an older boy over that scene because he said it was fake and that there was no way All Might could have beaten those guys in real life. Katsuki insisted he definitely would have because All Might never loses. the other boy replied that everyone loses sometimes. Katsuki kicked his ass and got suspended for a week.

ten years later, Katsuki watched All Might battle All for One at Kamino and realized two things. one, that the other boy was right and that anyone can lose. and two, that he, the one who had so proudly defended All Might back then, was going to end up being the reason why he finally lost.

for a long time afterwards, he couldn’t bring himself to watch that movie again.

when he and Izuku were three years old their moms sent them out on a first errand (google Hajimete no Otsukai if you’re unfamiliar with this tradition, I promise you it is the cutest fucking thing you’ll ever see) to buy ingredients for katsudon. Izuku was full of bouncy childish enthusiasm and could rattle off the full shopping list of ingredients front to back, but when the moment finally came his confidence wilted as soon as their parents were out of sight. Katsuki also had a moment of panic when they first rounded the corner and he couldn’t see his house anymore, but rallied once Izuku burst into tears and he realized that he had to be the one to take charge. he proceeded to morph into an absurdly over-the-top caricature of his own mother for the duration of the errand, to the point where in addition to telling Izuku to stop crying he also ordered him to stand up straight and tuck in his shirt. the two of them went on to complete the errand flawlessly and their moms were PROUD AS FUCK and took a billion pictures. Izuku and Katsuki have only a few scattered memories of this milestone in the present day but it’s enough to send both of them absolutely reeling with embarrassment whenever they’re reminded of it.

he and his mom don’t often get along but sometimes they’ll bond over roasting a mutual target. they have watched many a trashy reality TV show together for this purpose. Masaru lives for these moments but never comments on them lest he spoil the rare moments of peace.

Katsuki is perfectly capable of using keigo (i.e. normal polite Japanese with no rude language/cursing), otherwise he would not be one of the top students in his ivy-league high school. code-switching is a thing guys! anyways his teachers are aware of this, because all of his essays and homework assignments are written normally. he merely chooses to go about his daily business acting like a wannabe yakuza stereotype because that’s just his personality, and he’s not about to start censoring himself and acting like some weird little goody two shoes robot person just to please people he mostly doesn’t give two shits about. but if you put a gun to his head and told him you’d pull the trigger if he said “fuck”, he would probably be all right; he’d just have to concentrate.

when he was little he went through a phase of collecting cicada shells and leaving them EVERYWHERE -- in the bathroom sink, on his mom’s pillow, you name it. Mitsuki often tells people this is when she started getting gray hairs. one time she opened a box of cereal and there was one in there and a little bit of her soul died that day.

he generally doesn’t care who calls him Kacchan. it doesn’t particularly bother him and it never occurred to him to pretend like it did just for appearance’s sake. also secretly for some reason the thought of Deku ever calling him anything else really bothers him. he’s not sure what it would mean if that ever happened, or what he would do.

all of his workouts are designed to strengthen his arms and back and shoulders because those are the parts of his body that take the most abuse from his quirk. other than that he avoids building up excess muscle anywhere else because the more weight he puts on the harder it is to fly around. for this reason he is never going to end up being a big bulky guy like All Might. one day Deku is going to surpass him in muscle, but he doesn’t care because he’ll still be a match for him in firepower and speed.

he’s one of those kids who will not so much as take a sip of alcohol until he’s twenty-five. partly because he’s experienced enough concussions that he doesn’t particularly want to give hangovers a try, and partly because he’s a control freak and honestly afraid of getting drunk and making an idiot of himself somehow. the rowdier members of class A try virtually every trick in their wheelhouse and then some to try and persuade him over the years, but not even the reverse psychology “aw, don’t worry, it’s okay if you’re... scared :)” thing works, because that’s only actually effective when he secretly wants to do the thing.

then one day he just wakes up and is all “you know what, I’m gonna try it”, and for the next few days his google history is basically just “how many drinks does it take to get drunk” and “how to avoid getting drunk” and “how to prevent hangovers.” somehow word gets out through the grapevine (he probably told Todoroki, who is the one person in class A you’d think wouldn’t be a big ol’ gossip but in fact IS) that Bakugou is finally going to get his drink on that weekend, and pretty much EVERYONE shows up at the izakaya that Friday night excited as FUCK.

Katsuki proceeds to drink a grand total of two beers over the span of several hours, and drinks like five glasses of water in between, and literally nothing happens to him at all except that Kaminari almost fights him out of frustration. the rest of class A never fully gets over their disappointment.

he actually knows like 90% of class 1-A’s names by this point. there are still a few people he doesn’t and will never know, though. twenty years from now Aoyama will still be “that weird fucking french kid” in his mind.

he had no idea who Eri was until the Christmas party. sometimes he’d hear the other kids talking about someone named Eri, and from context clues he somehow ended up thinking it was one of Aizawa’s cats. when Eri came to the party he had a brief moment of curiosity wondering if she was Sensei’s niece or something, and then he heard someone say her name and he was all “THAT’S ERI?!” and his entire worldview was briefly shaken up.

he pulled Kirishima aside to ask him and Kirishima basically gave him Eri’s whole entire life story which was way more than he actually wanted to know. he’s now kind of terrified of ever being in the same room as her for fear of having to interact with her because he’s pretty sure he’d do or say the wrong thing. most of the time being intimidating is something he strives for and puts a lot of effort into, including when he’s around kids (who are basically just smaller, sloppier adults in his mind), but he doesn’t want to be the guy who scared an abused kid, so he basically just hopes the others will have enough common sense not to ever go “oh hey you know who should totally interact with each other?? Eri and Bakugou!”

that being said, if circumstances ever arose which forced Katsuki to protect Eri, the two of them would totally bond and they would have a really sweet relationship in which Eri looked up to him just like she looks up to Deku and Mirio and the rest, and where Katsuki was constantly trying to be on his best behavior around her, like genuinely, sincerely trying, and kind of failing at it a lot but still being sweet in a gruff sort of restrained-disaster way.

...and after sitting there for a while trying to think of more I couldn’t come up with any so I guess that’s it! basically most of my headcanons are about how secretly boring Katsuki is. honestly if it weren’t for him having the vocabulary of a 52-year-old sailor whose foot was caught in a bear trap, he and Iida would probably be best friends.

[prorevenge]

Manipulative Power hungry Aunt torments my family for years. Costs her $300000

Dealt with my shitty manipulative abusive Aunt all my life, finally got revenge.

Players: Myself (M late 30s), Sister (3 year younger), Aunt (Older "Sister" to my Mother), Mother (Single Mom, adopted, no blood relation to my Aunt). Cousins (3 total, 1M, 2F. I have good relationships with them now, mostly).

My estranged father who had been living several counties over, is pretty much out of the picture by the time my parents got their divorce when I was 9. Due to financial hardship, we were forced to live with my Aunt and the nightmare of a household we would soon find ourselves in. My Aunt married into Georgia "Wealth" and you can figure out what that means on your own. She had 3 kids and eventually caught her husband having an affair. It's a huge scandal, she gets the house, the kids and a fat payout from the family attorney. This is important because my Aunt didn't do a damn thing in her life to earn her money, her house, her lifestyle or basically anything. She was born poor along with my Mom.

Under her household, she was drunk with power. Years of therapy have allowed me to recognize that certain people when in a position of power, get a perverse pleasure in ordering others to do their bidding. She was the strictest of authoritarians in every possible way you could imagine. Chores had to be completed by an exact specific time. Vacuuming by 3:45pm, Dishes by 3:55pm, Laundry days for my Mother us kids were Tues/Thurs 5:35pm-7:55pm. If it was still running, she would shut the power off for the two units. As we grew older, her own kids opted to stay with their father for full time custody and she had them on Weekends. Even they couldn't stand her when she was in charge and in the house. As time passed, she got them less and less opting for alternating weekends as Highschool activities took precedence over time with Mother.

For my sister and I, the large 6 bedroom house was not ours for the taking. My mom had to pay rent as well as rent for 1 bedroom as that was all she could afford on her salary. We had to share a bedroom until my second year of HS. All the while there was 1 spare unused bedroom available at all times. My Aunt needed this for "Guests" when they stayed over. Not one guest stayed there in the 10 years I was under that roof. Finally the church we attended told my Aunt to give up the spare bedroom so my sister can have her own room as it was "unhealthy" for two teenagers sharing a room together like that. That infuriated my Aunt because someone told her what to do in her own household. My sister and I got the brunt of her wrath. As my Mom's salary was tapped out, my sister and I had do extra chores like mowing the lawn, trimming the shrubs, cleaning the pool which we could no longer use without her being outside watching us.

My Aunt's behavior was becoming more and more outrageous and disconnected from society. For example, she had always snapped her fingers when she wanted to get someones attention, but it was getting far more frequent and she would blow up into a tirade if either my sister and I didn't obey. Her own kids tried repeatedly to tell her that the shit she was doing was wrong but she wouldn't listen.Eventually they wanted nothing to do with her outside of the home. She was a tyrant there and repeated intervention to get her to see the folly of her ways would fall on deaf ears.

I Snapped:

All through HS I had no confidence as a person. I was weak willed and growing ever distant from friends and society. I say this in all truthfulness and fear, that had circumstances continued the way they had been going, I could very well had taken a gun to myself or worse, to others around me. I was that bad off.

I had just graduated HS and started my first semester of community college. I'm 2 weeks into my classes attending from home when my Aunt drops a bomb on me. "You owe me $$$ for this months rent, the same amount for next months rent as well. It is the 27th after all. You're an Adult now. You're out of HS and working now, so you need to pay rent" The fuck? I blew a fucking gasket as I yelled back. "You can't just suddenly decide to charge me rent just because you feel like it. I need 30 days notice, I have rights".

My Aunt yelled at me some bullshit excuse that she had discussed this with my mother and it was decided that I needed to pay my own rent now. In some miraculous backbone move, of which I still have no idea how I stood up to her, I yelled right back at her, "If I'm an Adult, then treat me like and talk to me about rental agreements. I'll start paying you rent in 30 days starting the 1st." I turned my back to her and walked away with my fists balled tight. I was furious with anger but I walked away. My Aunt saw my fists from behind and screamed bloody murder that I was going to attack her. No, I wasn't. She snapped her fingers at me repeatedly on my tail to get my attention but I didn't turn around. I needed to cool off and clear my head. As I turned the corner, she grabbed my wrist hard yelling "I'm not finished talking to you". I threw my still balled up fist forward keeping with my stride to break her grip as I hadn't stopped my momentum. This caused her grabbing arm to slam hard into the corner of the wall that I had just turned into. She screamed in pain but I left the house and took off.

The aftermath of that incident was that my Aunt called the cops on me in an attempt to press charges. She was taken to the hospital and suffered a fractured wrist and she was put in a cast/sling (don't know as I never saw it and never inquired further). Her story changed every time she told the cops what happened while my story was spot on every time. I can still recall that moment down to the smell in the house, where I was facing, the working and non-working lightbulbs etc. Forever ingrained in me. I was kicked out of the house and I couldn't visit my sister or my Mom there at the house again. Fine by me as I didn't want to see my bitch Aunt ever again. I was happy to meet my Mother and sister at the local diner or outlet. We could be ourselves there and not hostages in our own home.

Years Later:

My Mom wised up and got out of that abusive relationship with her sister and moved out on her own. She got a temporary nice place, invested wisely and with the help from the church, got help getting a place of her own. In 2009 after the housing crisis, she bought her own place that she could never have afforded on her own prior the Market crash. But some good came out of it. She wept knowing my Sister (and her family) and myself can come visit any time and stay.

Over the years I've been able to forgive my Aunt. Not forget, Forgive. I've let go a lot of my anger and hatred toward her that she put me through. When she has no leverage or control over us, she's a somewhat decent person for being a total bitch of a person. My Cousin's have calmed down, heard my side of what happened those years ago and know what kind of person I am compared to what kind of person their Mother is. They chose to believe me and know I didn't hit her or strike her or beat her across the face like she continues to claim.

The Revenge:

While I have been able to forgive my Aunt for what she has done to me, I cannot forgive her for what she did to my Mother. Kept her in financial hardship for a decade while she sat on a bank account full of cash and assets. Or what she did to my Sister. Forced her to pay for damages because the water heater burst while my Aunt and Mother was away one weekend leaving my sister at home. She didn't discover the flooded rooms for hours. My Aunt's reasoning, "It was her responsibility to watch the house." Not the responsibility of the home owner to maintain/replace the water heater before it goes. Lets leave that Upfront $5000 financial burden before the Flood insurance kicks in on a 16 year old girl.

I've had little to no contact with my Aunt since I was kicked out of the house nearly 2 decades ago. But I do keep in constant contact with my cousins. While I'm not going to divulge what I do for a living, I can say that I work with and for the Government. I've worked my ass off getting to where I'm at today. I'm known for being truthful, wise and giving good advise when asked. Because of this, I often talk financially with my cousins. All of whom are money-smart and are doing well for themselves. They often then relay this information to their scheming mother who has no mind for business and investments. All that money she got from her house sale, her divorce settlement, her previous investments is pretty much gone. I spent YEARS planning on the perfect trap and it took a long time to prepare everything to make sure everything appeared right.

IANAL and I don't pretend to know the law but I do know the regulations and laws pertaining to insider information. This is not that. 100% certain of it and if I ever go to court, I know my lawyer has a solid case in my defense. But is this a grey area, most definitely. I let slip to my Cousins about some future real estate plans near my Aunt's new area of living. It "may" be worth a lot more because of future development taking place in the area. All of that was true and backed up by what was in the News paper and New Construction signs that newly appeared on Google Maps (at the time). The rest was fabricated by myself backed up by actual information I looked up on real estate websites and on projects I was working on through my work.

The Telephone game takes place and a few weeks later I presume, my Aunt starts making phone calls to real estate agents trying to buy lots of Land in the undeveloped shitty area of her new house. Over the course of a few months to a half a year, she spends $300,000 of her last remaining savings on land hoping it will pay out when the area around it gets developed in the upcoming years.

Only, HUD/Government/City doesn't have any plans to develop in those immediate areas. In fact, analysis showed that building in those areas was poor planning and would cost the tax payers twice to three times as much as the land was not environmentally sound. It was best to build 6 miles away.

This post was long overdue because it's been over 2 years since my Aunt purchased Land that is basically worthless. See, she won't sell the land unless she gets at least the same price she paid for it because she's the OWNER of that land. Can't tell her what to do on her own land. Sweet Karma strikes in a way I couldn't possibly have foreseen. My cousin informed me that the value of the land has decreased significantly because it's not environmentally sound to build anything commercial there. But it's zoned for commercial use. Currently 3 of the 4 blocks of land she purchased are just weed farms next to eye sore abandoned buildings or industrial complexes. Nobody can build on it and nor does anyone want to buy it. Sucks to be her!

Best part is, my cousins have absolutely no idea that I set them up for their Mother to take the fall. These environmental results are relatively new and the perfect cover to say why the Project changed locations 6 miles away.

TL:DR Abusive Aunt torments my family and myself for a decade and more. Decades later, I am in a position to trick her buying worthless land. Icing on the cake, that land can't be used for it's intended purpose and has devalued significantly.

(source) story by (/u/Limecherrry)

[prettyboylovemail]

12, 2, and 3 for mondo your beloved :3c

M...Mondo... my beloved...........

2. If someone tells you two that you make a cute couple, how do you both respond?

Depends on where we’re at in the relationship, honestly. If we aren’t dating yet, then he gets super embarrassed and yells about it. “W-We’re not--! Shut the fuck up, it ain’t like that!!” But you can absolutely see on his face that he’s really red and flustered.

If we just started dating, he’s a little more confident about it, but still very easily embarrassed. He’s a tough biker guy, he can’t be perceived as “cute” or “soft”! But he also doesn’t want to deny his feelings for me either. So he usually just ends up blushing and saying something like “Yeah? And what about it?!” with a flustered glare.

After a while of being together though, he chills out a lot more and just scratches the back of his head and is like “Uh, yeah, I got... real lucky. She’s cute. Super fuckin’ cute.” Course, he’s still blushing a ton though ahaha.

3. Who is more likely to take care of the household chores? Who’s more likely to cook for the other?

Ahhhhh it’s 50/50. We split up the chores and jobs that we don’t want to do, but we both make an effort to get everything done. I don’t mind doing the laundry and sweeping up, while he usually offers to take out the trash and do the dishes. We sometimes go grocery shopping together, but I do end up having to go alone if he’s at work, so we keep up a list of the things that we need.

Neither of us are really good cooks, honestly. So our regular meals aren’t usually all that healthy. But he at least makes sure I’m eating something, since I often forget during the day. He does try to learn though, so we both attempt to make a meal together every now and then. It’s fun to try out new recipes together, even if they don’t really go the way we want lolol.

12. And finally, do you have any kids? If so, what is your f/o’s relationship with them?

HHH you’re really doin this to me, huh

-sighs- Yes. We have a child. But he’s a future child, so technically he doesn’t exist yet. But we will be having a son 👉👈

He doesn’t have a name yet, but basically, he’d be such a mini Mondo. Oh my gosh, he’s such an outoorsy and energetic kid who loves riding his bike (an actual bike, not a motorcycle lol) and running around playing outside. He’d really look up to Mondo a lot and want to always copy the stuff that he’s doing, so he helps him out with his carpentry work sometimes and also always begs Mondo to take him on motorcycle rides with him. But, Mondo knows he’ll get in trouble with me if he starts our son off with that stuff too young, so he usually says no. But every now and then, he’ll sneak a couple riding lessons in behind my back 🙄😂

While he definitely would take after Mondo more, both in appearance and also in personality, but that isn’t to say that he doesn’t love me or want to bond with me too. Mondo especially makes sure that our son spends time with me because he didn’t have much of a relationship with his own mother and wants to make sure that I get to spend time with my little boy too. He’d probably take an interest in my art, thinking that my characters are super cool and coming up with superhero and comic protag ideas for me to draw. He’s a really imaginative kid and has a lot of cool ideas that he just lights up when he sees them come to life on paper. It’s very heartwarming.

Basically I love my (future) little boy so much.

[arabellaflynn]

For anyone who didn't catch it on other social media, I have finally moved out of the "temporary" apartment I was stuck in for 7 months, thanks to a lot of emotional and logistical support from friends, and a generous amount of financial support from the folks who gave to my GoFundMe. I am endlessly grateful to all of you, and if I weren't so goddamn tired right now I'd be more eloquent in saying so.

I've spent the past few weeks of unpacking and working out the bus routes around my new place trying to figure out how to explain what was so terrible about the last one. Most attempts devolved into page upon page of rage, which is not really what I want to be doing here. On the other hand, I also don't want to downplay how bad it was. 

Spoiler: The temp apartment was Very Very Bad.

The tl;dr is that I was offered someone's spare room on the condition that I help out a little extra with household chores and caring for their rats, because the pet owning roommate had recently had back surgery and was still mobility-impaired. What actually happened is that as soon as they realized I had any basic life skills whatsofuckingever, I was cornered into becoming the 24/7 on-call House Adult. I would have gone on strike, but the other two people in the apartment were so terrible at coping with absolutely any aspect of being alive that if I had, one or both of them would probably be dead now.

That is not hyperbole. I sat back at one point and realized that I had talked to 911 dispatch five times in the preceding four months. None of those calls were for me. To be clear, I ain't mad about other people having medical problems. All five of those calls were appropriate and necessary uses of emergency services. I just resent the hell out of being the default option for handling all of it, even though none of the medical emergency problems were mine, and there were other people in the house. Literally, Short Roommate had a catastrophic asthma attack one night, and when she was wheezing too hard to talk she passed the phone to Tall Roommate -- who immediately ran to the other end of the apartment, banged on my door, and handed the phone to me. It got to the point where I just told the operator what was up, went downstairs to unlock the door for EMS, stood in the corner answering the occasional question until they hauled someone off to the hospital, and then went right back to bed, because none of this was my problem. And that's just the 911 calls, not even counting the number of times I had to talk her down out of a dissociative episode, or any of the other shit I was not warned about and did not volunteer to do. They wore me down until my only response to "a fellow human can't breathe" is "fuck's sake, why am I even involved here".

They both needed a lot more, and a lot more professional, help than they could possibly have gotten out of a random civilian roommate. They both fought tooth and nail against actually getting any of it. Every time Short Roommate was dragged to the hospital, her discharge papers included a big fat packet full of social services, resources, and business cards for actual physical people to phone. I know this because whenever I cleaned the apartment, I found them on the fucking floor, whereupon I placed them on her fucking keyboard, and told her point-blank to call these people. As far as I know, she never did.

I am neither qualified nor equipped to be a live-in caregiver for anybody. There is a fucking reason I have never wanted children. I keep critters because if you give them food, water, toys, and boxes to sleep in, you can leave them to entertain themselves for hours while you work or sleep, and no one will arrest you.

There was a bunch of other stuff. Tall Roommate rarely if ever cleaned anything, including herself, unless directly ordered to do so and given a detailed list of instructions of what you meant by "clean". I only ever got her to wash her own damn dishes once, and I did it by messaging her from the other room 'I just found a mouse in the sink eating snacks off your dirty plates GO DO YOUR DISHES'. She had a laundry list of problems, but the relevant one here is that she was high-support-needs autistic with no support and zero inclination to find any. 

[Did I mention the mice? We had mice. All over. The rats murdered two of them when they got into the cages, looking for the free-feed bowl.]

Short Roommate clearly loved her rats but didn't actually do any of the rat care beyond petting and playing. One of them was tremendously sick at one point and needed meds q6h. She was supposed to be helping with that and didn't, which meant that I went several weeks on a maximum of six hours of uninterrupted sleep a night. I tore the fuck into her for that one, pointing out in exactly so many words that some of these meds were painkillers and if the rat didn't get them on time HE SUFFERS. Not doing any of the grunt work, Short Roommate evidently thought rats were so easy she should just keep getting more of them! She rescued two, one of whom was preggo, kept several of the babies, and started talking about waiting for one of the girls to grow up so she could breed him with one of her younger boys. 

Gentle Reader, I promise you the only reason I did not strangle her in her sleep that very night was that I knew, deep in my heart, that I could not move the body down two flights of stairs by myself, and if I left it up to Tall Roommate, the corpse would still be in the apartment today.

If I were inclined to any sympathy, it would have died when Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend and New Boyfriend's Mother. She initially took all the rats with her, which made them officially not my problem anymore, but I woke up one morning to a message that said something like "[New Boyfriend's Mother] says that if I show up to our new place with the rats she's not going to let me in, [Tall Roommate] is coming back with all the rats and everything they own". I found out later that this was because their new place was in section 8 housing, where you are not allowed to have pets that aren't service or support animals. Which Short Roommate had known the entire time, and just... made no plans for. At all. Unless "ignore everything until bitchslapped by reality, then panic and make unreasonable demands of other people" counts, I guess.

Eight rats. She dumped eight rats on me. Eight. I wound up taking care of them all without help; Tall Roommate was incapable of keeping anything in her habitat clean, including herself, and I wasn't willing to let her neglect animals. I was actually down to one rat of my own, having lost my two venerable old men, and was looking for a new friend or two for Tseng. Which I had to stop doing, because nine fucking rats is a lot of rats, and I couldn't in good conscience bring Rats nos. 10 & 11 into this shitshow. Naturally, none of the rats got along; two pairs of boys had to be kept apart, and both of them tried to pick fights with poor Tseng, and four of them were girls that had to be kept away from all of the boys for obvious reasons. It was exhausting and a catastrophe.

Once I had the rats she apparently made no further effort to re-home them, although she did keep telling Tall Roommate to come knock on my door and take pictures of them. (I put a stop to this. Tall Roommate did it because Short Roommate had broken up with her to shack up with New Boyfriend, and Tall Roommate had literally no way to cope with this other than try desperately to get her back.) I bugged her to do something about this until, predictably, I had to contact the local rat rescue people to find fosters less than a week before my moving crew was scheduled. When I told her, she replied "oh, I was just about to submit that". Sure you were. And while you're here, I have this nice bridge to sell you.

[The four girls and two youngest boys went to Mainely Rat Rescue. It looks like the boys have already found a home, but the girls are up for adoption. I kept the two old men, who both have special care needs; Garion has breathing problems that involve his own asthma inhaler and a steady diet of NSAIDs, and Errand has attitude problems that involve picking fights with any rat who isn't Garion. They're both just shy of three(!) and unlikely to find homes through a foster program, plus I'm already their third caretaker, so I couldn't send them off with a stranger. They are currently sulking because I wouldn't supplement their dinner with all of my dinner -- which is to say, they're fine.]

The point is, my brain just about died off. The only time in that apartment that I didn't spend cleaning up after three grown adults, two of whom weren't even me, were the weeks after Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend, which she had broken up with Tall Roommate to do, and Tall Roommate took it so badly she ended up inpatient before she ate a bottle of Tylenol. (I called 911 when I overheard her plans. It was about 50% "a fellow human is in need of help" and 50% "argh jesus fuck THIS IS NOT MY JOB please go talk to someone who is actually paid to deal with this".) I am slowly clawing my way back to the surface, so if you'll just bear with me, I'll be back on Twitch this Sunday 3-7 Eastern, and type out more things that have been on hold while I tried to retain at least some of my marbles.

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[chaoschaoswriting]

Building a Routine That Works (and Sticking to It)

For freelancers like me, learning to build a routine is essential... but that doesn't mean that we’re always good at it! The urge to overwork, or the incurable urge to procrastinate, can be incredibly powerful. Build a sold routine is just one of the ways in which people who work for themselves can ensure that they maintain a solid work-life balance and stay healthy. 

If you want a brief overview of how a routine can benefit you and the first big mistake that most newbies make, you can find it here. Likewise, if you want some ideas as to how you can use a period of lockdown/self-isolation to your benefit, I have a previous post about that. What we’re covering today, however, are the nuts and bolts of building a routine that can co-exist with your ‘normal’ day to day life. 

The Basics 

So, at risk of making myself sound like a condescending arse; a routine is defined as a set of actions which are taken regularly. In terms of life, that means things like walking the dogs, making dinner, brushing your teeth, etc. Most of us have some rudimentary form of routine, even if we don’t know it. This can be as simple as brushing your teeth and showering as soon as you wake up, and reading before bed. The trick is building a routine that incorporates more than just these basics. 

We’ve all seen it at work; your grandparents probably had specific days on which they cleaned the house, did the laundry, or went shopping. Those from regimented households may even be used to having the same meals on a rotating weekly or monthly basis. Too much regimentation is a bastard, of course, but having a routine that keeps all the most important parts of your life running smoothly is actually key to creativity. 

Here are some basics to consider before we get into the real content:

Reconsider Bedtime

Yes, really. 

I know you’re not a child, and I don’t care. 

Sleep deprivation is one of the most damaging states your body can exist in, and your alarm and ‘bedtime’ are some of the easiest things to set when creating a routine. First of all, be realistic. You’re not going to get up at 4am and go to bed at 7pm every day. Set something you can stick to more often than not, and be prepared for hiccups at first. 

What you’re doing is resetting your body clock, so it’s going to fight you at first. The most important thing is to push through; if you don’t get the right amount of sleep at first, keep getting up with your alarm and try not to nap. 

Obviously, this doesn't apply if you have medical conditions that mean you really need to take short naps often to be happy and functional. in this case, I would allow for naps. 

In fact, if you have the luxury of time, allow for naps anyway if that’s what you feel will help you best. Just set something you can stick to. 

Don’t Overschedule

Nothing kills a fledgeling routine quite like an overstuffed diary. Be realistic about what you can actually do on a daily basis. If you’re setting yourself up for 12-hour workdays... well, you’re going to lose some of the plates you’re spinning. 

Don’t Buy Into The Aesthetic

This site, in particular, is a fraught place when it comes to cultivating healthy habits. While it’s funny to recognise our own flaws, the idea that writers and artists are messy, disorganised, or incapable of working on demand is not true. Furthermore, sleep deprivation, poor diet, and untreated mental health problems are not ‘sexy’. I use that term in the early 2000s, Paris Hilton context of course. What I mean is that the image of the ‘starving artist’ or alcohol addled writer are by-products of cautionary tales, not career recommendations. 

There are plenty of things that can make it hard to work and stay organised. Executive dysfunction, depression, anxiety - these aren’t just buzzwords. They’re very real issues that many people cope with; if you’re fighting with things of this nature it’s important that you, first of all, know that you are not alone. Many of us are in the same boat. There is hope, however, if you focus on finding ways of working that suit you and help you to manage your personal situation as well as possible. 

Your routine should allow for things which help you to destress, decompress, and relax. In fact, it should centre around them in many ways. 

The Nitty-Gritty

Ok, so you’ve got the basics down. By this I mean, you know what time you have in any given day based on your desires wake-up and shut-down times.

1. Identify the Immediate Necessities;

Are there any things that must be done daily? By this I mean meds to take, dogs to walk and feed (any pets to take care of, actually), children to dress, etc? If so, they are your first priority. First thing in the morning is the only time when a one-size-fits-all approach can be applied to a routine. Every morning routine should include 5 key things. No matter who you are, these apply:

A) Go to the toilet. 

B) Brush your teeth. 

C) Groom/wash, e.g. wash your face, neck and hands, brush your hair, apply deodorant etc. 

D) Drink a glass of water (this is a good time to take your meds/vitamins etc)

E) Eat something (even if it’s just an apple or a slice of toast, give your body something to work with). 

What else you add here is based on your life and needs. You may need to feed and walk your dogs, clean out the cages of other pets, help family members. Whatever it is you need to do write it all down to get it straight in your head. 

Most people have fewer necessities to take care of at night unless they have children, pets, or other dependents. Sticking to these things is easy because they must be done daily. 

2. Spread the ‘Sometime’ Necessities; 

What am I talking about, here? 

Chores. Things like washing your clothes, washing your hair if that's a big job, sweeping, tidying, going to the gym. Things that you don’t need to do every day, but which should be done regularly for best effect. 

Try to set these things up on a weekly schedule, doing small amounts often. This may seem like a huge ask, but trust me it’s not. It’s funny how quickly washing clothes and dishes can be done when you’re dealing with a day or twos worth instead of three weeks worth. 

Here’s a handy break-down from a real live adult; 

Dishes; do them daily. I don’t care if it’s one mug, a single plate. The truth is that unless you make a huge meal for more than two people washing dishes takes ten minutes tops. If you do have a lot of cookware to clean and not a lot of time, compromise by washing your crockery immediately after use and letting pots/pans soak until evening. 

Laundry; do this once or twice a week depending on your drying arrangement. Fold it when it's dry trust me you’ll be glad you did later. 

Cleaning; once a week. Clean your bathroom, kitchen, and dust any other rooms regularly to make it a light job. 

Hoovering/Mopping; once a week, after you dust or clean. Do the floor in the room you've just cleaned. Some people like to do all their weekly cleaning on one day, while others prefer to do a room at a time throughout the week. It really depends on you, just do what works. 

Tidying; do it every day. All the time. Not to sound like your mother, but pick the fuck up after yourself. It’ll make your life so much easier. I speak as someone who has made the mistake of not doing it many times. 

3. The Good Stuff; 

Finally, we’re onto the bit you’re interested in. Once you have things like work, chores, and bodily needs handled, you can think about what you want to do regularly. Whether that means allowing an hour a day for painting, or two to three hours a night to write your book, there are hundreds of choices here. 

Once again don’t overschedule. 

As much as you may have a million things you want to do, your daily routine should consist of sustainable actions. Be honest about what matters most to you, and how much time you can devote to it. 

Sticking to Your Routine

The truth is that you probably won’t stick to the routine you decide on in theory. Why? Because life gets in the way, and we are prone to either over or underestimating what we can do. So, the most important thing is to be prepared to change your plan as needed and to persevere through the teething pains.  You can increase your chances of sticking to any routine by easing into it. 

Start by getting a handle on your sleeping arrangements. Keep going as you are for a week or two, but start adhering to your chosen bedtime and wake-up time. Feel it out - do you need to add a nap? Are you better in the morning - would it be better to wake up earlier, etc? 

As your sleep schedule starts to feel less like a chore and more like a habit, incorporate some necessary things like taking all of your meds (or those you can) with your first glass of water, or braiding long hair at night (another tidbit for you - doesn’t matter what kind of hair you have, braiding it at night is a good way to simplify your mornings). 

Once you have your daily routine under control start to work out how you want to deal with your chores and weekly responsibilities. This will be the hardest, but once you get into a rhythm you have to keep it for a few weeks before it becomes second-nature. Minimum.

Finally, look at what free time you have after all this is in place, and ask yourself how much of that you want to devote to things like music, painting, writing, martial arts, whatever it is that gives you joy. 

Et voila you have a routine!

[lotusofhope]

Today was really illuminating, but also really hard.

I moved with my bf (and my sister's help, thank God) and so many memories came back - the only time I've ever really moved as an adult was with my ex. My mom was always involved.

Just a lot of memories of all of the things I cannot handle well, a set time to work until done, others with different abilities, physically and mentally, working and me just being unable to.

I won't call myself disabled, some work I excel at especially office work, but manual labor or group labor in a set period is hell for me.

When I grew up, cleaning was an impossible task. This was for many reasons, all pretty much having to do with my mom.

1. The consequences were inconsistent. Some days she didn't care how messy it was, other days it would be yelling nonstop if something wasn't clean. As a child, I had no idea what set these apart - I know now that it mostly had to do with forces outside of my control, mostly my mom's stress level at work or school.

2. I couldn't not know how to do things. Ok, so this one sounds and feels absurd. But, sometimes I just didn't know what to do - do you remember your parents teaching you basic chores? I don't, and I imagine others don't either (though they might). But when I did something wrong, I was not gently corrected. It was anger, to accusations of "trying to get out of work." Same for if I said "I dont know how to do this." These were not hard tasks, some like putting away the dishes or vacuuming, but they stressed me out to no end because if I had a problem it would become a major problem, and I could not ask for help without reminding my mom of her brother, who claimed to not know how to do simple things to get out of work. It made simple tasks impossible - to this day I *hate* sweeping and vacuuming. Dishes are going better, laundry not so much (I Hated Hated HATED laundry and how much trouble I would get for not folding clothes well.) To this day I still blame young me for just "trying to get out of work", even though the memory of that anxiety is strong every time I do simple tasks.

3. These things would combine to me needing to take a break, which was an absolute nonstarter. If you ever were not working while my mom (or my dad if my mom happened by) was working on household chores, it would be yelling. And yelling often lead to physical stuff from spanking to a belt. So now, when I need a break or don't have the energy to do something while someone else is, it gets really fucking bad. My bf has gotten to the point where he tells me to stop because it's clear I'm freaking out, and that it's okay if I'm not helping this exact moment.

Anyways, all of these were present in my mind today, so I wasn't the most helpful. But my mom wasn't there for once, and I think I was the most productive I've ever been, and I'm making new neural pathways because now I know it doesn't always have to end in screaming and pain.