#one if the jobs that DOES absolutely make a grocery store necessary i made fucking hot food everyone treated as Top Notch Shit

[timeisacephalopod]

Lol out of curiosity I looked up my old job on Indeed and yes they ARE urgently hiring for the position and if I didn't get treated like dog shit for expecting a stress free work environment with reasonable expectations and not wildly cunty management who seemed to be under the impression they were doing THE most important job at THE most important store ever maybe I wouldn't have just not shown up one day 🤷🏻‍♀️ asshole thing to do to my poor coworkers but I didn't even have the energy to quit right after spending a month and a half feeling deeply surveilled at every aspect of my job lest I get another frivolous writeup no one else got for doing their jobs worse than me so fine. You want me gone enough to threaten my livelihood and SHRUG when I point out I have rent to pay, fine, but I wouldn't put up with that behavior from anyone in my life generally and I LIKE those people so my JOB pulling bullshit? Oh hell no, if I wouldn't take it from people I CHOOSE to be around on purpose I ain't taking shit from a fucking JOB. I refuse to be in a work environment that's unaware it's a GROCERY STORE, not a 5 star establishment frequented exclusively by world leaders or some shit. Like Sam, my job is cooking food at a fucking sobeys and you're acting as if I'm disarming bombs it's so important get reasonable priorities and standards for employees and then apply them equally to managers and not EXCLUSIVELY minimum wage staff 🙄

Which is funny because my new job everyone seems surprised with how fast I've caught on to stuff down to a coworker yesterday telling me he thought I worked in a shoppers prior to the pharmacy I'm in because Im catching on so quick. This isn't unusual for me either, some time in the last five or so years I've found every workplace I'm at I end up being heavily relied on because I'm good at my job, so fucking sucks to suck for sobeys because it took me some week or so to be consistently praised for being better at the job than the guy I replaced only for them to throw that out because they think management should be able to do whatever the fuck they want while they shove minimum wage staff under a fucking microscope to ensure they're doing their shit right and even that isn't consistent. They punished me exclusively because I did not lay down to be treated as a door mat and dished the treatment I got handed. If you treat me like shit I WILL treat you the way you treat me, no worse, and sometimes a little better because I don't lose my moral standards in that treatment either. Just because I'm being an ass doesn't mean I'm willing to do whatever the fuck, just enough to ensure that the person who's decided I'm their new plaything knows that'll be going both ways so fuck off. I've never had a job so willing to keep on shit management they had at LEAST a dozen meetings with regarding performance and I was the one who got punished for being frustrated about that. But I will take a new significantly less stressful job 🙌🏻

[doctorguilty]

griping about popular post but I don't wanna comment on it and potentially get too much attention and dogpiled

bad and terrible take I'm sorry like the "individual action is not effective" because "the fundamental problem is [higher institution]" is applicable to stuff like, "reducing your carbon footprint by driving electric cars and using metal straws makes minimal impact on the planet because multi billion dollar corporations are deep frying the planet" and even THAT concept has more to do with like personal sacrifice vs personal accountability.

For example if I spend extra money on sustainable eco-friendly food products and exhaust my food budget so that I go hungry at the end of the month, for the sake of individual action to like help save the earth, it is not worth hurting myself for because no amount of only purchasing free-range eggs will make an impact equal to me as a human being with basic needs and rights to food. And being guilt tripped and told I'm selfish for eating cheap eggs instead so that I have enough money to eat every day is bullshit.

At the same time, it DOES NOT mean that because your individual actions are small in the grand scheme of things, it is a waste of effort to do actions that DON'T negatively impact your life, health, or wallet. Like separating recycles from the trash, buying affordable cotton/wool/leather clothing instead of stuff made of plastics, those are still worthwhile things to do if you HAVE the ability, if you ARE capable.

Equating masking to the like, propaganda of "individual actions are necessary self sacrifice, go green at the cost of your well being while we spill 300 tons of oil into the ocean" is stupid, it's not the same thing. It's more like the separating-your-recycles thing but not even that either. Because it's not about the nebulous concept of "the planet" or the "wildlife and forests", it's about your NEIGHBORS, your fellow people at their jobs and at the store and living their lives, doing something individual for THEM, and it does ABSOLUTELY matter and make an impact.

It makes a HUGE impact every single day what you choose to do around other people; wearing a mask could be the difference between, what, you wearing a piece of cloth over your face that is uncomfortable sometimes? versus a cashier getting sick and having to stay home from work and lose a chunk of their paycheck, versus a child at the store catching your infection and bringing it to school with them and they all bring it home to their families, versus an elderly person who lives alone taking care of themselves, becoming bedridden and no one can get them groceries or pick up their medication at the pharmacy.

That stuff REALLY fucking matters and that doesn't even start breaking ground of disabled people, that op was really quick to throw under the bus?? oh society has forsaken them, it's an institutional, such a shame. nothing we can do about it. (also like. who was even talking about cons or events when it came to any of this.......because as far as I know everyone was like, please just wear a mask when you go to the store. to the doctor's office. like wha?)

oh, you feel bad it's being "moralized"? you don't like feeling personally responsible? it's uncomfortable when us undesirables are forsaken by everyone in power and all we can do is beg and plead to be considered by the average person in our vicinity? like honestly, op is right in the sense that the hard statistics when it comes to how much of an impact 1 person in a crowd of 500 don't really matter, but you know when I see that 1 person I think, god at least someone cares. Like. I mean it's complete misinfo to say it does nothing for disease transmission but since people don't care about THAT anyway, then yeah it IS a moral issue and you should feel bad about it! you should feel bad ignoring our voices, you should feel bad when we die, and you should feel bad if all it takes to even communicate to us, "I hope my choice does matter enough to save even 1 person in the world" is wear a piece of cloth on you face and you think that's equitable to corporate ceos guilting you over not driving hybrid cars while they tear down forests to build parking lots over, you think disabled people asking for a sliver of consideration on par with like, taking the grocery cart back to the return so it doesn't smack into someone's car is the same thing as oppressive institutions scapegoating poor people and profit from it...... like I think you've lost the plot, terribly.

[theunderdogwrites]

2020: The Year I Lost My Ass

Well, we reached the end of that toilet roll only to start another one, because that is what we do for as long as we are allowed to continue revolutions around the sun – we keep going.

2020 was a terrible year for so many. My brain is incapable of processing the number of losses suffered on a global scale. Be it jobs, security, rights, sanity, relationships or life. My brain is not just incapable of these calculations, it has plain refused to entertain those thoughts on behalf of my heart. My heart, that sensitive little blood pumping work horse who not once allows itself to stop. Thank goodness.

I don’t believe the majority of people are willing and able to bring themselves to fully comprehend what was lost in 2020.

Here is a list of a few more losses suffered last year:

- People lost their shit. And over the most ridiculous things like toilet paper, having to wear a mask to secure toilet paper and being held to the consequences resulting from not wearing a mask when asked to while attempting to purchase toilet paper. Pause for a moment and let that last sentence hang around in your mind. 2020 made that happen. I didn’t make it up! Recently I saw a news piece showing a man (40’s) lying down on the floor in a Costco to protest being asked to wear a mask. He spoke loudly, he beat his hands at his sides and wildly kicked his legs when an employee asked him to get up. Now, I am not judging for I too have participated in such behaviour MANY times. Granted I was three, but hey… some of us mature faster than others.

 - People lost their damn minds. 2020 should be dubbed “The Year of The Karen”. For those of you not in the know about the Karen phenomenon, here is a description courtesy of Urban Dictionary:

 “Karen is a pejorative term used in the United States and other English-speaking countries for a woman perceived as entitled or demanding beyond the scope of what is appropriate or necessary. A common stereotype is that of a white woman who uses her privilege to demand her own way at the expense of others.’

 Basically, a Karen is a I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER type person (There is a male equivalent, but it seems no one can agree on the name… Chad, Terry, Kyle, Kevin, Steve). You can often find a Karen on her cellphone calling the police to report a black man who lives in her neighborhood, simply living his life in her neighbourhood. I didn’t make that up either.

 More recently a Karen was videoed in a UPS store claiming that she didn’t have to wear a mask because that space was government property and not a private business. Would it be safe to say that most Karen types suffer from a lack of oxygen to their brain? Possibly. But that would involve science and Karen types DO NOT enjoy hard facts.

 As always when I download my thoughts into reality, I must go within and search myself. Am I a Karen? My immediate answer is: no fucking way. I can honestly say I’ve never once asked to see a manager or called the police to report someone eating their lunch on a park bench. I do not enjoy confrontation. Unless there is a bully involved. Then I will drag that person to hell with me. I much prefer discussion over going straight to the ‘I triple dog dare you!’ approach to the world. (If you got that reference, you are my new favourite) Because that is who a Karen really is… someone who jumps right to the most extreme action in order to satisfy their need to be superior. Truly, we should feel sorry for these people because instead of engaging they’re raging. And how awful must their insides feel… always full of anger, fear and self doubt. I say instead of judging these Karen types or putting them on blast on social media, we should hug the shit out of them. Just grab them and squeeze as hard as you fucking can until they stop talking. Peaceful solutions my friends, peaceful solutions.

 - Pets lost their faith in us. Children a close second. If you are a proud owner of a pet or a child, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

I’ve always operated under the notion that my cat loves it when I’m home and hates it when I leave. 2020 has taught me it might be the other way around. Because our animals are, well, animals we just believe our presence is the greatest gift in their lives. Remember when you were old enough to be left alone by your parents and once you had the taste of that kind of freedom, you just wanted more of it and couldn’t wait for them to go out? I feel it’s like that with our pets now. We might not think animals have a routine or preferences or enjoy some alone time, but we’d be wrong.

I think at first our pets were thrilled. If we are home more it means more time for prolonged petting, walks and the opportunity to ritualistically train us to respond to their caterwauls for more food and treats than normal. But then as the weeks of lockdown and working from home increased, so did our pets desire to kill us in our sleep.

 I’m pretty sure my cat has asked me several times using her feline glare: “why the fuck won’t you just leave?”. It would be naïve of us to assume we don’t disrupt their day with our constant noise making and snacking and scotch drinking that leads to a good buzz that leads to showing too much affection to our pets. To the point where they run and hide when they see us coming. Please tell me I didn’t describe just my own experience.

 There is such a thing as everything in moderation, we know this, so I think it can be applied here. People, get away from your pets. Give them the space you often desire from human beings. Because if you don’t, that random turd in your shoe could be pointing to a much larger, more alarming problem you’re about to encounter.

 I had the absolute blessing of being able to assist in caring for and raising of my three nephews (12,9,6) for the last 11 years. So, when I say: ‘children are always watching us’, I feel I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been mimicked so often by these young boys that I’ve had to pause due to mortification. Children will hold you accountable without even knowing it. I’ve had some behaviours of mine corrected by a 5-year-old and let me tell you, it stings like hell.

 As adults, when our world was thrown into turmoil because of Covid-19, we looked to our medical health professionals and our politicians for guidance. Basically, we searched for those who would lead us. The children – looked to us. And while many adults handled this responsibility the best they possibly could, many more failed miserably and displayed attitudes I can only describe as juvenile, damaging and pathetic. I suppose it doesn’t help if the people the adults are looking to for help are themselves - juvenile, damaging and pathetic.

 When I say we still have not grasped just how much has been lost over the past year, I’m hinting at integrity, compassion and creditability. Three vital qualities you’d hope people want to instill into their children. But if they themselves are unable to display such valuable traits, what does this say for the children who are looking up to them as an example on how to act when life gets challenging?

 For myself in 2020, I gained by losing.

When they locked our gyms down for four months last spring, I came close to being one of those people who lost their shit. While people were moaning about wearing a mask for 20 minutes in the grocery store, I was contemplating if murdering those people could be considered a cardio exercise and would that hold up in a court of law.

To reflect on that time period now (especially since our gyms are closed AGAIN at the moment) the loss of the gyms brought me the knowledge of how important the routine of going to and being in the gym is to my mental health. I won’t launch into how I feel about shopping malls being open and gyms being closed despite their proven benefit to one’s overall health because then I really will lose my shit.

People always say getting to the gym is the hardest part and once they’re there it’s easy to workout. And for many that is the truth, but for me it’s all a part of the workout. Getting to the gym is the psychological effort. Putting in the work at the gym is the physical. You can’t have one without the other. I became so pathetic that I’d often walk to the closed gym from my house, stare at the closed doors and then walk home. 1.5 hour round trip. True story.

Remember a few years back everyone became obsessed with that Netflix show ‘Tidying Up with Marie Kondo’? It is the show where that lovely woman from Japan showed us all how to declutter our homes by getting rid of anything that didn’t bring us joy. Those acid wash jeans from 1989… sit with them… hold them close to your chest… if they don’t make you happy, remove them from your space. Well, the same idea can be applied to people and ideas and even feelings. And 2020 was a great year for simplifying our lives. I’ve heard so many people talk about how they can’t wait to get back to ‘normal’… not me. I’ve already started my ‘new normal’.

The loss of drama has gained me peace and a better understanding of the importance of remaining true to who I am instead of trying to please others in hopes it wins me points. Because it doesn’t. Because its inauthentic and only brings you more loss and more drama. And anxiety. And sleepless nights. And an overall sense of hatred for everyone. 2020 gave me the option to no longer care about the things that don’t make me happy and to embrace the process of letting all that stupid bullshit fade away.

It was a year of gained focus.

It was a year of gained appreciation.

It was a year of gained gratitude.

It was a year of gained love for myself.

 I’m going to leave you now, but not before I share one of my favorite songs by the Tragically Hip:

In A World Possessed by The Human Mind

Just give me the news

It can all be lies

Exciting over fair or the right thing at the right time

Everything is clear

Just how you described

The way it appears, "A world possessed by the human mind"

 Then I think I smiled

Then I think you said, "it's fine"

And quietly I dressed, in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 We're in awe of no one

We've none of their fear

Fighting's goin' nowhere and we stay right here

Where everything is quiet

A little super dangerous

"In the shadow of the law and with colours of justice"

 Then I hope I smiled

Then I'm sure you said, "It's fine"

They got no interest in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 Everything is quiet

A little super dangerous

Quiet enough to hear God rustlin' around in the bushes

Oh, but it was you

Girl, I was so afraid

You said, "You shoulda seen the look on your face"

 Then I hope I laughed

Then I hope I said, "it's fine"

And quietly undressed in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 Oh it was you

Girl, I was so afraid

You said, "You shoulda seen the look on your face"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgXphurrsE0

[backseatsiren]

My First Shift in the New Normal of the Pandemic

Last night, I did a full shift on my ambulance for the first time since the pandemic was in full effect. The last time I went out was early March, when things had just started to get pretty scary - I had a patient then with a bad cough - and we were relieved when we got to the ER and we confirmed she had no fever. We had no special PPE, but also, life was still borderline “normal.” People were still going to restaurants and gyms. I was still training grappling with my teammates. 

Things obviously changed pretty rapidly.

For the last month, I’d been terrified, but also itching to get out there. It’s probably dominated a few therapy sessions (therapy is great, friends, I highly recommend it): my own terror of this virus, and the stories we’re hearing of people - even, occasionally, young and healthy folks - dying. Drowning. It’s an ugly, ugly death, and I was scared. I’m still scared, honestly, but my need to get the fuck back out there was quite a bit stronger.

You see, I do this for selfish as well as selfless reasons. I genuinely want to help people and serve in my community. I want that, and I love that. It means the world to me to have the opportunity to give back a little. But it’s also a vital need that I have personally - I need to work with my hands and do tangible things. 

I love my job. I’m the luckiest chick in the universe as far as I’m concerned - and hell, I just got promoted. I’m an Editor in Chief now, doing what I love!

But I do feel a disconnect on some level, in my very online job. Again, this is not a complaint - I love what I do and actually really love working from home, being here with my pets. I like making my own schedule, especially because, in normal life, I get to train in the evenings.

But I am such a little... woman of action, I guess. I love grappling and competing and getting my hands dirty, getting my body fully and completely activated and immersed in activity. I simply do not feel right, or feel like myself, without... action. Some Adrenalin. I’m not an adrenalin junkie, per se (idk, I’ve never jumped out of a plane or anything like that?), but it’s an important part of my life. It might make me a slight jock or meathead, and I don’t care. I love it and I need it.

Speaking of Need...

Frankly, the EMTs around me, in my city, in my community, have been utterly swamped in this crisis. Have been working their asses off. NYC had over 7,000 911 calls in a single day this month (the usual busy day is in the 5K range I believe). And here I am, sitting on my ass, doing my nice comfortable job. I felt like a massive, massive asshole and basically... a fraud.

I’m not a fucking EMT cosplayer. I don’t put on a uniform to take selfies, I want to go out there and help.

For a bit, it was hard to get a crew together. At first, we didn’t have enough PPE, so we didn’t send crews out. Then we got equipment, but it was hard to pin sown scheduling. This is understandable - we’re an all-volunteer organization, some ppl are underwater in all this, others have medical conditions that would mean exposure could very possibly kill them or put them in extreme risk. Tons of folks were helping in crucial ways - doing training or coordinating, seeking donations of PPE, etc. And some folks were able to go out on a special 911 service. I’m incredibly proud to be a part of this organization, where people are valued for many different types of service.

I, myself, had spent the last couple of weekends doing driver training with a really rad volunteer who couldn’t go out, but she still wanted to do her part to help. Hey, I drove on the Jackie Robinson in an ambulance for the first time last weekend! It was exciting! But eventually things aligned and I had a crew for Tuesday night. I practiced with my N95 mask and reviewed all our new PPE rules. We had a little demo of the new equipment before going out. And here’s the best part: last night, I got to guide my two other crew members through their first-ever 911 call.

That’s right, I had two (excellent), brand new crew members. That means I had to run all aspects of the call, and give instructions in a pretty wild situation. I’m thrilled and proud to say it went really well.

We turned up to a “fever, cough, difficulty breathing” - almost certainly COVID - for an elderly patient. The family were outside, and I told them we’d be right up, we just needed to suit up. So, on went our special tyvek suits, respirators, face shields and gloves. We went up, accompanied by the FDNY crew chief, who stayed outside the room, and had a very sleepy, confused, and sick patient. I let FDNY know we could take this one - and he was super thankful about it (he even said “God bless,” and i know some people don’t like that, but I think it’s very sincere and kind). We got info and prepped our patient. Based on everything going on (which I won’t go into detail on), I made the decision she should be seen by a doctor (one thing I will say - she found a family member dead, from COVID, in her house a few days before. So this family had already been through hell). She was an incredibly sweet person, and I made sure to keep telling her she was doing a really good job as we got her ready and down to the bus. She was a little scared as we carried her down the stairs, but very, very sweet and compliant as we took care of her. I may have sweated my body weight in that suit. But I will say that in a hazmat suit and shield, I felt safe and confident enough to do my job properly. That, honestly, was a godsend, and something I was pretty scared about before going out. This is a hands-on job. We lift and carry our patients, we have to touch people to care for them. This patient went to the bathroom in front of me and was confused and sleepy and feverish, and it was necessary to keep waking her (gently), and reassure her. We got her to the ER and spent a solid twenty minutes on very careful doffing (taking off the gear) and sanitation. I was deliberately slow and careful with this, since doffing is actually the part that supposedly poses the biggest exposure risk if done improperly. We bleached the crap out of our suits and shields and all surfaces, then used our UV light at base to kill everything else on the truck. I did my paperwork. It was a slow night after that. And yeah, we took our time on that call, ensuring everything was done properly and deliberately. One thing I’m really proud of on the call is my patient communication. My driver told me a couple of times that I had really good bedside manner - and I’ve heard that before. I care very deeply for my patients (yes, even the ones that could be considered annoying or troublesome, though this circumstance was far from that). It’s partially because, as a volunteer, I have plenty of time to work and give reassurance and comfort. I’m not on the clock, and I’m not an overworked, underpaid EMT (this job is brutal, EMTs should be paid frankly double what they are).

A medical emergency is terrifying for people - it’s a bad day when they call us. I like to build rapport and trust with my patients (obviously, in a case where we aren’t rushing, and really, even then I do my absolute best to be comforting and reassuring while moving fast). I think we made this person feel cared for, and she and her family seemed very grateful for the extra attention.

On that note, I am proud of myself. And I’m proud that I felt confident directing my brand new crew members. It was a relatively big job for a first call (with new, extensive PPE, lifting and moving our patient downstairs, transport, vitals and assessment in a pretty intense situation), so I feel good about that. My driver and attendant did an amazing job, stayed cool under pressure, and had a great attitude throughout.

Thank you

One thing that was positively wild was the gratitude, not just from the patient’s family, but... the people across the street from our base waving and clapping for us. The people at the grocery store/deli, thanking us and then letting us cut in line (I was so embarrassed and I probably made it worse by thanking them twenty times). People treated me differently in that uniform where... in the past, it’s more like “oh, an EMT” - and I have complex feelings on that.  I don’t want to steal a single ounce of valor here - I’m not out in the shit every day, I do this a few times a month because I love it. Does it feel super, super fucking nice to be thanked for volunteer service? It sure does! But I also don’t want to take away from folks who live in this shit - so I just want to be clear on that. 

I love that I get to do this, and yes, I love being thanked when I do a good job. I’ll admit that right now. But I also want to be aboveboard about it, and not take attention away from folks who are in this constantly. 

Wrapping up, and dealing with fear

I had a few decontamination procedures to do at home once I got back too. Uniform off at the door, into a tied-off bag. Shower right away, lukewarm water before hot water to avoid opening my pores too much at first. Wiping down a few items, even if I didn’t use them in service, just because they were on the bus. Simple stuff.

But I felt great, mainly that I was able to get out there and help, that I was able to manage the situation well with two rookies, and able to feel confident in the PPE and decontamination procedures.

Is it entirely possible that I was still exposed, despite doing everything? Yes, absolutely. I could get sick. I could get sick just from grabbing that snack from the grocery store (of course, I sanitized my hands twice before eating, but still!) But I tried to go into this with my eyes open, both extremely careful with PPE and fully knowing the risks. And knowing how I’d feel if I didn’t go out, given that I’ve been an EMT in this city for close to four years. Knowing that my skills and experience were valuable and needed at this time. That I can actually help, even if it’s just a little. I’d like to go out again soon. I’m actually volunteering with citymeals this week as well, so hopefully I can be a bit helpful there too. Carefully, of course, so as not to risk any exposure either way! (Gloves and masks and six foot rule in place for safety). But I feel proud, I feel good, and fuck, I just feel more like myself. And I can’t wait to go out again soon.

[concubuck]

I want to let you know I walked by a mattress store todsy, and thought of you. I will think of you now whenever I see mattress stores.

((This is it. This is my legacy. Defending my muse's right to fuck up his back by sleeping on the couch via a rant about how many steps it takes to buy a mattress.

honestly tho I'm okay with that 😂

like, ADHD is a big part of my life—I'm out here as a fully-functional job-holding tax-paying adult, but just about everything about how i run my life is ultimately dictated by the fact that I have ADHD and that my entire day is a series of jury-rigged tricks to trip myself into doing the basic things I need to do to function, even including things like "remember to eat food when you're hungry" and "remember to use the toilet when your bladder's full."

And ADHD is a big part of how I write Alastor (that "why does anybody do anything? Sheer! Absolute! Boredom!" hit me right in the heart,) and that's especially true over on this blog, where he's got no meds, he's obviously depressed, and he's also spending several hours a day managing the symptoms of a life-controlling medical condition. Never mind the fact that the medical condition is "having a libido."

Not only is the ADHD/depression double whammy the primary thing keeping him from getting a new mattress, it's also at the root of most of the other problem with his home: the fact that he needed a new mattress in the first place because he'd gone so long without changing the bedding that his own body fluids started growing mold; the fact that he'd gone so long without using or throwing out his groceries that the smell of rot in his kitchen was making the apartment borderline toxic; the fact that now that he's throwing out those groceries, he hasn't bought any fresh food for his apartment in months; etc. He's struggling. He is not thriving

And if you don't know why, you're gonna think... what, is he just too lazy to go grocery shopping? Is a 120-year-old man too dumb to know his bedsheets need to get washed? Does Alastor the Radio Demon—a man so terrifying that I've made repeated references to him getting all his meals and rent for free because people are scared to charge him—not have a mattress because it's never occurred to him that he can steal one in Hell?

So if you're thinking about me & my blog every time you see a mattress store, then that means the post worked, and there's a part of you that's gonna remember how stupidly frustrating and complicated and tedious and difficult ADHD makes things. Takes a 3-step process and turn it into 40 steps and make each one of those steps individually a chore.

And then the next time Alastor is just simply not doing something that's obvious and necessary, hopefully folks won't think it's because he didn't think of some obvious way to do it. Rather, it's probably because he already knows exactly how to do it—it's just too heavy to start.

When you behold the mattresses, meditate upon ADHD, and think of me.))

[dark-unimaginably-stupid-kids]

Not Dreaming of You  [Ch 1]

(Because You Won’t Let Me Sleep)

Series- Voltron

Pairing(s)- End Game is Klancelot, with a slight incline toward Keitor simply based on the set up.

Other pairs include minor Shallura, past Rolotor, one-sided Sheith. platonic Plance and even a hint of Heith if you squint real hard.

Characters in this fic in order of most screen time: Keith, Lotor, Lance, Pidge, Hunk, our Lovely Lady Generals, Kuron, Shiro, Allura, Rolo and Nyma

 Synopsis: Keith has been tensely living with Lotor for about a year. They aren’t exactly friends, but occasionally they can get along. Suddenly with no explanation their neighbor Rolo moves out and two very noisy whack jobs move in. Somewhere between the loss of Lotor’s old fuck buddy and Keith’s sleep deprivation things start to get a little…odd.

“I’m telling you, there is something wrong with them!”

Chapter 1-

In which Keith gets out of work late and is too tired to deal.

Lance is loud and Lotor is…Lotor.

Work had been exhausting. God knows why anyone in their right mind would travel all over the grocery store with raw meat in their basket just to leave it buried behind the cereals—because that’s absolutely where it’s supposed to go right?

Keith had been the unfortunate one to find the mess and the blood and the boxes and boxes of completed ruined cereal. That was just the cherry on top of his grueling day at the express lane feigning cheer and putting up with stupid customers.

One of these days he was going to quit. Just. Just take his little name tag and stab Iverson in the eye with it.

…That could end in incarceration rather than just a very clear “I Quit” though so…maybe not.

Whatever. He was exhausted. He was allowed to day dream.

Even if it was close to two in the morning and he was laying on the couch praying for his aching muscles to give him the strength to drag himself into the shower because!! He was not crawling into bed like this absolutely not, na-uh.

He was so tired though. Maybe he could just. Take a little nap right on the couch.

His roommate wasn’t due home for another couple hours, little club hopping piece of shit that he was. Heck, if Keith was really lucky Lo would find somewhere else to spend the night and Keith could have the apartment all to himself in the morning to wallow in his miserable life.

But he needed to shower.

Lo or not he needed to shower and crawl into bed and sleep for the next week.

He rolled off the couch and screamed at nothing—quietly, to mind his neighbors beyond thin walls—and when that didn’t help his situation at all he dragged himself to his feet to trudge along to his bedroom for his towel. Normally, he’d carry clothes with him as well as he was so unlike his roommate in that he didn’t thoroughly enjoy parading around the apartment naked but fuck it he wasn’t home and Keith really didn’t want to wear clothes or exist—

He was going to pull the extra fluffy blanket out of the closet tonight it would be glorious and absolutely necessary and prudent to his recovery.

God did he still smell like cow blood?

He still smelled like cow blood.

“What IS that?!”

Keith fumbled with his towel.

“I know it…! PIIIIIIDGE!”

“what-what-what-what!?!! Why are you screaming?!”

That was coming from those thin walls as previously noted. A boy and a girl. The girl sounded further away but grew progressively louder as she presumably got closer to the wall Keith shared with them.

It was two in the morning right? Why were they so active?

And didn’t Rolo live next door? Neither of these two sounded like Rolo.

“Do you smell that?! What is that!?!”

“Lance we just moved in there’s bound to be—Oh.”

“YOU SMELL IT TOO DON’T YOU!?!”

“Well—!”

“Dude! Is it coming from the walls!?!”

They were excitedly squeaking at each other, getting shriller as they went. Keith could feel his head rattling. He really didn’t have the energy to be concerned about what kind of mold Rolo had growing in his apartment. Of course, by default that meant it could very likely spread and become Keith’s concern in a short span of time but…

For right now, he just couldn’t be bothered.

As he held his towel in his hands he briefly considered how disgusting his hands were. He’d washed them eighty times at the store but they just. Didn’t feel clean enough. And now they were on his perfectly clean towel he was going to need to use to dry himself off later.

Maybe he should just dump this in the dirty clothes along with his uniform and just—air dry.

“No. No Lance, we can handle this okay. We just got here. This is gonna be good for us. We’re fine. We’re two… totally stable…totally normal individuals and we can handle this, no wigging out.” The girl sounded determined and her voice somehow retained human levels of shrill.

The boys did not, “But Pidge it’s right there!”

Keith glared at the spot on his wall where he was sure the boy on the other side must have leaned against it with a thump. He was confused, but too tired to ask so instead he walked over to that spot on the wall and slammed his open palm down against it. The smack made his entire body go weak but with the startled yelp from the other side it had been worth it.

“Keep it down!” Keith shouted at them.

“God Lance look what you—how could you already upset the neighbor!?”

“Why does it smell like this!?!”

Keith quirked a brow but the girl shushed him and there was the sound of several thumps and a door shutting hard.

Alright.

Okay.

You know What?

This is fine.

He took his disgusting towel in his disgusting hands anyway and went to shower.

There was something crazy soothing about being drenched in scalding hot water when your body felt like gelatin. He might have stayed in there until the skin on his fingers got pruney but frankly he didn’t care. He wrapped his towel around his waist, having mostly forgotten it was previously dubbed “disgusting” and let himself out of the extremely fogged up bathroom.

Standing out in his apartment in nothing but his towel felt a little strange, but he reminded himself Lo wasn’t home and hopefully, one day when he lived far far away in a lonely little shack in the middle of nowhere, every day would be like this and it wouldn’t be weird then.

The bathroom door looked out onto a hallway that ended in the apartment balcony and Keith offered the darkness of three AM a passing glance when he caught sight of something that looked vaguely terrifying.

If Keith had to admit it, it looked almost like the shadow of a person on the balcony. The shadow of a person, crouched on the floor, staring through the sliding glass door with glowing golden slits for eyes.

But, when Keith’s eyes adjusted from the light and fog of the bathroom to the blurred darkness of the outside there was absolutely no shadow and no glowing eyes.

Clearly, Keith was tired.

His stomach growled in agreement.

Wait, no.

No way. He was not hungry he couldn’t be hungry he didn’t have the energy left to be hungry—!!

---

Lotor came home while Keith was standing in their kitchen chewing on a pop tart over the sink, still clad in only his towel.

Keith didn’t need a mirror to realize he was probably pink in the face and doing a piss poor job of hiding his panic.

Lotor stared at him for a long moment, door ajar behind him, coat half shrugged off his shoulder and keys in hand.

“…Good Morning, Red.”

“It’s night time.” Keith mumbled over a mouth of pop tart he hadn’t managed to swallow.

Just like that, Lotor relaxed, “It’s 3 AM. As in morning. Don’t be difficult.”

“…Fair.”

Lotor shut the door and locked it before shrugging his coat the rest of the way off and hanging it from one of the hooks near the door. Keith had one too, but his cropped jacket wasn’t as aesthetically pleasing as Lotor’s long black fleece lined coat. And Lotor would definitely fight him if the hideous bright red thing clashed with his living room.

It had won him the nickname “Red” after all.

To be fair, since Lotor’s dad was footing most of the bill for the apartment the two of them had moved into after their sophomore year, Keith really couldn’t complain much.

“Anyway, is there a reason you’re up this late? And…naked?” Lotor’s eyes drifted up and down Keith’s pale form and Keith felt vaguely violated. When Lotor dared to raise his eyebrows and smirk Keith almost threw the remainder of his pop tart at him.

“Got out of work late, showered, snacked. That’s all.”

“Darn, and here I thought you’d finally cracked and fallen prey to my charms, that I could have gotten lucky tonight after all. Perhaps there’s still a chance to convince you?”

Keith flushed and stuffed his face with the rest of his pop tart, a large part of him wanted to dart into his room and ignore the comment but the part of him that rose to the challenge wanted to bait him. He knew it was a joke but he wanted to see how far Lotor would take it, “You want to convince me?”

Lotor leaned against the kitchen counter, a small but obvious smirk on his face as he looked Keith up and down again, seemingly considering the idea before he shrugged his shoulders, “Eh. You look beat. I’ll try again tomorrow. Stay naked though, makes it easier.”

Clearly Lotor was still working whatever alcohol he’d consumed out of his system if he was going to play flirt like that.

“The pop tart crumbs on your mouth really seal the deal too. Really works for me.” Lotor’s grin widened to show his perfect teeth and Keith rolled his eyes, before rinsing his still vaguely pruney hands in the kitchen sink and wiping his mouth.

“Maybe I should eat something myself actually. Narti had me try something called a Dirty Bong Water. We had…possibly eight of them.” Lotor drawled out before squeezing past Keith in their tiny kitchen toward the refrigerator.

Keith hummed absently, trying to pretend he didn't pay close attention to the warmth of the other man's presence or the way several unnaturally silver strands of hair were falling loose from the bun he'd tied it all into earlier that night.

“We have to go shopping,” Lotor mumbled as he peered around the contents of the fridge. They were almost out of soy milk, the grapes had shriveled and needed to be thrown out, they had two eggs left and a ridiculous amount of pudding but otherwise, yes, it was looking pretty scarce.

“Not it!” Keith shouted immediately.

Lotor turned to stare at him as if he’d grown a second head, “But you work there.”

“Exactly! That’s like my asking you to go to your dad’s firm on your day off.”

Lotor’s brows remained quizzically raised, “That isn’t the same thing at all. Why would I have to go there on my day off? I barely work there as it is.”

“To get groceries.”

“It’s a law firm, Keith. You're not making any sense.”

“I am very tired, Lo.”

The taller boy retreated from the fridge and shut the door behind him as he offered his roommate a sympathetic stare.

“Perhaps you should go to bed then?” He offered.

Keith nodded, “Hopefully the new neighbors will let me—oh! Did you know about that? That we got new neighbors today?”

At this Lotor’s eyes, a pretty deep dark blue, flashed in recognition, “Ah yes, I did see them come in today. Not sure what exactly got into Rolo but he said something about going back to his family for a while.”

Keith blinked, “…Rolo hates his family.”

“I’m aware.”

“He moved into his van when he was fifteen. He couldn’t wait to get away from them. Why the hell—”

Lotor raised a hand to silence Keith before placing both hands on Keith’s shoulders and turning him around, nudging him forward, “I don’t know Red, and there’s no point in asking me, these are mysteries for the daylight hours—”

“Eh it's not like it matters. I didn’t really like him anyway.” Keith continued, tilting his head back, watching Lotor’s long tan fingers as they released his shoulders with a questionable wave.

“Hm?” Lotor hummed. Of course, he didn’t know how little Keith and their neighbor got along given that in the last year he'd never actually seen the two interact. But if he had been paying attention one could even make the case that Rolo would have preferred his family to having to live next to Keith at this point.

Why were things so tense between Keith and his neighbor?

Well, because Lotor had an awful habit of getting bored, wandering over to the apartment next door, and not coming back for hours during which Rolo would play that horrendously awful “sexy times” playlist that Keith was more than tired of listening to.

Of course, to be clear, Keith’s annoyance was primarily with the playlist and not in Lotor’s involvement at all.

Naturally.

The man just had awful taste in music.

Though after Rolo met his girlfriend Nyma and Lotor stopped going over to the backdrop noise of deep repetitive beats Keith might have to admit he found his neighbors existence slightly less annoying.

Even despite the fact the music never stopped because Nyma wasn't even remotely prudish.

But again, Lotor wouldn’t know and it didn't matter because it had nothing to do with Lotor.

Nothing. Not a thing.

“He was just a dick sometimes, ya know?”

A vaguely knowing look passed over Lotor’s face as he eyed his roommate. At Keith’s unsure silence Lotor finally shrugs and reached up to run his fingers through his hair. Remembering at the last moment that his hair was tied up, he lifted both hands instead. One removed the hair tie, the other quickly went to work threading through his locks to make them appear sensible.

Of course, they always appear sensible.

Because Lotor always looks like a goddamn model no matter what he’s doing.

At least, Keith thinks dryly, he knows Lotor’s hair isn’t naturally silver. Hell, he’d even helped touch up the other mans roots once or twice when they’d been having a tolerable week.

Still. Rooming with Lotor had always given him a touch of a self esteem issue. He was just. Perfect. All the time. And on top of that he was a very prosperous flirt who could get pretty much anyone he wanted and flaunted this evil super power with this infuriating pride—

Keith wasn’t really interested in relationships if he was being honest, he was too busy trying to figure out his life and what he was going to do with a bachelor’s in liberal studies and a dead end cashiers job to really try going out and meeting anyone. But sometimes, he figured, it might have been nice.

And maybe it would be nice to get that kind of attention from Lotor in a more genuine way.

Rather—not Lotor, of course not Lotor—but when he’d walked in earlier and almost looked like he was genuinely checking him out it almost made Keith feel…good.

God damn Lotor had nice hair.

“But the new neighbors are noisy. So. I’m not sure if we leveled up or not,” Keith offered finally.

Lotor raised a brow as he decided he wasn’t going to wait for Keith to call it a night and let himself into the bathroom. Keith stayed idle at the entrance to the hallway. Honestly, it was rare they’d talked this long as it was and Keith probably should have taken the hint and just gone to bed.

Heck, he was still wearing just a towel. How exhausted was he that he could just forget that fact?

“Noisy?” Lotor called out to him, surprising him. He really had thought Lotor was going to ignore him and head to bed at this point.

Lotor turned on the sink and proceeded to brush his teeth while Keith explained what he’d overheard when he came back from work.

“Rolo doesn’t have mold. I was there yesterday,” Lotor responded dryly when he was finished rinsing.

“Well what else could it have been?”

“More questions I’m simply not equipped to answer for you tonight, Red. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll go over tomorrow and investigate. Make nice with the new neighbors. I’m sure they’re not as bad as you think.” Lotor dried his hands on the purple hand towel and shut off the bathroom light mumbling about it being way too late to take a shower and odds were Keith had used all the hot water.

This was one of their first arguments as roommates, they both enjoyed scalding hot showers and if Keith was tired he simply would not leave. They had decided at that point Keith would bathe in the mornings and Lotor would take the evenings baring unforeseen circumstances that they would then accommodate to accordingly. Much like he was going to do now.

But again, Lotor was perfect so he probably didn’t even sweat and he certainly didn’t come home smelling like cow blood so he’d be fine.

Regardless, Keith couldn’t help but consider how willing Lotor was to visit the new neighbors.

“…Which one.” He groaned, voice dripping with exasperation.

“Pardon?”

“Which one caught your attention?” Keith grumbled while the taller male paused in front of him, his eyes lingering on Keith’s collar bone for just a second. Keith assumed he’d imagined a mosquito or something. Lotor absolutely hated those and would quite comically rave about setting fire to the apartment if it took longer than ten minutes to kill one.

Not that there was any reason for Keith to be thinking about some of the funnier or cuter things Lotor was capable of when he was so close to him and naked.

Honestly, Keith didn’t want to hear the answer to his question but he couldn’t help that he’d still asked it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Keith.” Lotor even said it with a lilt and the beginnings of that shit eating grin Keith hated so much.

“I swear to god Lotor— they already sound annoying I don’t need you making it worse.”

Lotor laughed outright and Keith wanted to wretch at the awkward feeling in his stomach.

“Red, you think everyone is annoying.”

“And don’t you forget it. You’re not even an exception.”

Lotor nodded, raising a hand to Keith’s head and roughing up his hair. Would it be dramatic to say it felt like his heart stuttered with the motion? Lotor gave him palpitations. Clearly living together was shortening his lifespan.

“I’m aware. Nice chatting with you, we should avoid it in the future.”

Keith shivered at the fond way Lotor said that, but he blamed his current ensemble for it, “We should. Agreed.”

Lotor removed his hand from the others hair and waved, “Night Red.”

Yeah. Yeah really this was such a weird night.

“Night Lo.”

Lotor’s bedroom door shut quietly behind him and Keith shuffled into the hallway closet to dig out his fluffy blanket as he had planned at the beginning of the night.

When he made it to his room the neighbor was playing music. Not as loud as Rolo but still loud enough to keep him up if he were any less exhausted.

The quality of music was also nicer. Softer… Spanish?

When Keith’s head hit the pillow he went out like a light, whether it was from exhaustion paired with the music or the idea of this being the start of one of those “tolerable” spells between himself and his roommate, he didn’t know, he didn’t care.

Sleep was just. So good and so necessary right now.

And yet he woke up around sunrise to the sound of his neighbors shrieking.

“Cover it up! COVER IT UP!”

“I’m TRYING!”

Keith pulled his second pillow over his head and squeezed it tightly. Somehow he got the feeling sleep would be a rare thing from now on, with those two living next door.

What the fuck was wrong with them? ----

AN: So I would have posted this earlier but I was thoroughly distracted by Steven Yeun’s VOICE--

And yes, this is another multi-chaptered fic (Because what the fuck Gen) I’m still going to be working on IFE but it’s at a slightly lower priority right now because A) I’m totally winging it and it was mostly an experiment to play with some world building for my original series and B) There doesn’t seem to be much interest in it ANYWAY so like...no pressure yeah? <3;;; Also C) THIS STORY RIGHT HERE ACTUALLY HAS A PLOT?!!!

Like I have actual chapters planned and Lisa even got a ridiculous derpy outline when I was bored and ended up writing one instead of working on Dusk.

This was SUPPOSED to be a stupid little one shot with Klance and platonic Plance but then suddenly there was Lotor. Descended from space to give me a message! “You’re going to love me and give me the littlest blade now.” And suddenly my derpy Klance one shot became multi chapters predominantly Keitor/Klancelot.

So.

Fuck it.

Let’s see how this goes lol.

[fuck-customers]

Grocery store baker is back at it again, this time with a rather lengthy fuck managers. My department got a new manager about a month ago and I went from loving my job to hating it in that timeframe and honestly?? After today I've had Enough™ and need to rant about this under qualified mess of a man. My last manager, K, was a saint. She was experienced, qualified, stood up for her employees, made a schedule that accommodated everyone's availability, knew how to make a schedule, knew all the little semi-screwy parts of the company and how to avoid them, made sure everyone got their breaks, busted her ass for the department, got the orders in on time, was on top of the orders, was a great person to work with and a great person overall. She's the manager dreams are made of. This new bozo, S, is the exact opposite. He's been with the company for 3 months ((I've been with the company for 5 months, for reference)) and doesn't know jack. He's never been a manager before and only has about a year of assistant manager experience. He's got a heart problem which is exasperated by stress ((ya know, that thing that goes hand in hand with being a manager in a retail or food establishment???)) and is constantly calling out and fucking us all over because of it. The assistant manager, C, has been doing this for the past 10 years so she's been picking up the slack. However, she keeps having to leave early on Saturdays - whether S is there or not - because she ends up going waay over 40 hours and the store manager tosses her out ((the district manager is super strict about overtime and so far we're the only store in his district that has no overtime and isn't on the shit list)). So, besides fucking us over when he isn't there, he fucks us over by showing up as well. There's just such a variety of ways that he fucks us over while there that I'm gonna break it up. First off, besides S, the department is all women. S is 6 ft tall. Save for the decorator, Y - whose pregnant - I'm the tallest at just over 5'5. Most of our products are stored in our freezer until they're needed and all of our extra containers are stored in the fridge ((to hide them from food service but that's another story)). We try to keep things where we can reach them and try not to stack shit on the top shelf. S, however, decided, in this department of short people, to stack boxes 3-4 boxes high on the top shelf. Heavy stuff too like pies and frozen bread ((as opposed to light shit like cake donuts)). ((Ironically this month's safety focus is lifting and bending safely.)) So most of our closers - who need to get this shit - can't reach it and end up knocking things over and getting hurt. Has his employees getting hurt and asking for changes done anything?? Nope! It's still super unsafe! 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻 My store is brand new. It was built from the ground up and opened last November with brand new appliances, trays, racks, etc. The store S is coming from is the oldest store in the district where the oven's internal thermometer isn't properly calibrated and all the trays have an inch of carbon buildup. So, naturally, the two stores are run a little differently. He hasn't even tried to learn how this store works he's expected that the things he learned to work around the older store's quirks will work perfectly here. So far he's ruined 6 muffin tins, and roughly $400 worth of bread ((he baked no bake bread at 400 degrees for 20 minutes it was rock hard I wanted to c r y)). Plus we have a new girl!!! So he's teaching her all this bad habits!!! And C has to go behind his back to teach her properly so T ((the other baker)) and I don't have a cow in the morning. The kicker is that we're super open about the quirks of the oven and proofed like even the people who don't use them know them. ((The top shelf of a rack won't bake in either oven and the proofer seal was never installed properly and it doesn't seal right so the proofer is like 5 degrees cooler and 10% less humid than it should be.)) S cannot make a functional schedule. He just doesn't make one. He's physically incapable of staffing the department. ((Part of the problem is that we're understaffed because 3 people quit and we never replaced them and 1 person is absolutely shit at her job and can't do a single thing right but that's another story.)) I'm the part time baker and T is the full time baker but you'd never be able to tell because I end up baking more than T. T wasn't initially trained as a decorator but now she decorates more than she bakes. I'm also trained as an opener and a midday shift clerk. I've got no issue working those shifts. I haven't worked as a clerk since December. In order to serve customers, get products packaged and on the sales floor, and basically function properly, the department needs a clerk at all times. There should be one who opens, one who works in the middle of the day, and one ((it should be two but we're so understaffed)) who closes. This allows the clerk to man the register, package what the baker's made/is making, and get product on the floor in a timely manner. It allows the decorator to focus on making cake orders, filling the cake case, and serving customers at the cake case. It allows the baker to focus on making all the mixes needed to stock the department. It allows the managers to take inventory, place orders, and put the product that we don't bake here on the floor. The clerk is necessary for optimal bakery functionality. Do we always have one? Nope. We have someone from 6-11 and one from 4-9. We need someone working from 11-4 or 5 to fill that 5 hour gap. What ends up happening is the clerk leaves, the baker is up to her elbows in mix, the decorator is in the freezer/fridge getting things she needs, the manager is in the back getting a load, and a customer is getting angry at a counter because no one is there to take care of them. The closer ends up having the package shit that should have been packaged and on the floor before 4 in addition to panning everything for tomorrow, packaging everything in the self-serve case, cleaning the department, and facing the sales floor. When the closer has to do the midday shift's job as well as their own job ((which takes 2 people as is, so basically they're doing the work of 3 people on their own)), things get missed. Especially when C gets sent home for working too many hours and S called out ((or didn't and just didn't show up)). Every damn day we end up several hours behind schedule because there's no one there in the middle of the day packaging and I want to s c r e a m. Technically, we have 4 closers. Except one girl cannot close alone because she's slower than molasses and cannot do her job at all. Someone has to close with her to make sure that everything gets done and that she doesn't fuck up the one (1) thing she'll end up doing. R is a disaster ((she was hired at the same time I was and she only gets 4 hours a week because she's such a burden for the department)). The other closers - E, N, and G ((the new girl)) - hate working with her because it's actually more work than working alone. E is our best closer - she deep-cleans the whole department, packages at the speed of light, and pans everything properly. N is good - not as fast, but very thorough. G is new but she's getting the hang of it. N is being trained to decorate and they're trying to get E to open more ((even though she's only given 19 hours a week because S doesn't like her)). Closing is a 2 person job. We desperately need more clerks we suffer every day. Fun fact: I'm quitting at the end of April because on May 9th I start at the Culinary Institute of America. I'm so excited and I talk about it constantly. I've got a countdown going, I wear my CIA hoodie when I'm on break, I use my CIA pen for everything, I talk about it constantly, and it's been a known fact since I started when I'd be quitting. Literally every single person in the department - and most of the employees in other departments - know this because I never shut up about it. Partly because I'm super fucking pumped and partly because I want it to be crystal clear when I'm leaving so no one can act shocked when I turn in my two weeks. Back in January K was talking about who would be trained to replace me. S, however, has made no such comments and is training another decorator instead. Like, there's already 3 people in the department who are trained as a decorator we don't need a 4th we literally only have 10 employees in the department. There have been no moves to hire anyone ((the new girl was actually a cashier who wanted to transfer departments)) and no talk of training someone to replace me. C and T are getting nervous because they're scared that when I quit they won't be ready for it and C will have to bake as well as decorate and, ya know, manage the department. The only saving grave is that everyone in the department- while we don't get along because girls are super fuckin catty - is united in hating S. Like even C is sick of his shit. We all collectively shittalk him to let off steam so we don't blow a fuse whenever he does something particularly stupid. We're super catty and don't get along typically but S has really united us by making us hate him lmao. Tl;dr: My dream manager got transferred and an under qualified man was promoted to fill her shoes and is fucking up in every way imaginable. I went from loving my job to hating in the span of a month because of him.

[inspirationallyinsane]

January 7, 2017

I just got off the phone with my mother and I am very upset. I left Chapman University to go to the cheapest school I could just to appease my parents and it's still a fucking issue. I can only take three classes this semester because those are the only classes open that would give me proper credits and that don't have a prereq that I needed to take in the fall. I literally can't take any other classes. But my mother is still mad at me because I'm only taking three classes and "we don't pay per unit, we just pay for the semester" so I should be taking 18 credits which I actually can't do until my third semester at this disgusting school which I told my mother but she doesn't seem to be able to process information properly and continues to insist I take more classes despite the fact that I CAN'T TAKE MORE EVEN IF I WANTED TO. NOTHING IS OPEN. I CAN'T. She is mad at me for not FIXING the school. A school that I hate. A school that I don't want to go to. In a location that I have despised my entire goddamn life. I am doing this for them. I could have transferred to another school in LA if I didn't love Chapman. I could have gone to a school that was just as expensive. I could have chosen LMU or fucking Pepperdine but I didn't. I didn't do it because my parents couldn't pay for those schools (even though apparently they can pay for 850 dollar dinners and spa trips and shopping sprees. Even though they can afford to buy all new glasses for parties and new blenders. I'm shopping at the goddamn dollar store for food, buying cranberry juice which has a warning saying it can make me infertile to try to save money and they aren't doing fucking shit to save money). Cutting organic foods out of your life, not spending 300 dollars two times a week at the grocery store, that is not saving money. That is living like a normal fucking person. They must think I'm fucking stupid that I wouldn't notice that they're spending all this money on all this unnecessary shit. They put me in this 750 dollar a month apartment in Ashland, like if we were actually trying to save money, if my life was a burden to them financially, I could have gotten an apartment in phoenix or talent for 300 dollars a month or less. It is insanity. My mother is pissed off that I am going to spend more time and money in school than what is absolutely necessary but guess what??? She spent 5 and a half years in college?? She switched her major after she finished a different one!!!! How is that any better or different??? She's talking to me like "Oh I went to college I did 18 credits" Yea well guess the fuck what??? We are different people in different situations?? You had your classes handed to you because you were on the basketball team going to a goddamn community college. I don't have priority classes. I don't get to sign up first and since I had to transfer schools so you wouldn't have to stress out about paying for my school, I was the very last person to register. There is nothing available for me. Nothing. I COULDN'T TAKE THE CLASSES IF I WANTED TO. WHICH I DID. I emailed my academic advisor four times to try to get into the advanced German class I tested into but I can't get into the class. The system is 'broken'. And now according to my mom that is somehow my fault. It is my fault I had to transfer schools. How is this my fault?? After that whole debacle in May that whole conversation we had this is my fucking fault. I desperately wish I just didn’t give a shit but I do. I want my parents to be proud of me. I came back home, even though I can’t live in my home, just so they’d be better off. This is all for them and they can’t give me one ounce of sympathy or understanding. I am trying my best. I don’t even have a bed to sleep on. I can’t even afford a mattress at this point. I have nowhere to put my clothes, I got my furniture from habitat for humanity. My lifestyle has changed so dramatically over the last few months and theirs has hardly changed at all. I go grocery shopping with my father and it isn’t about the prices for him. He doesn’t even look at the prices. But I have to go to the dollar store. The pasta at the dollar store doesn’t get soft. You can boil the shit out of it, put butter in it, put sauces on it, it never gets soft. It’s all chemicals. It makes me feel sick but that’s what I am eating because I am trying to save money to buy a mattress. And my mom is pissed off because I don’t play basketball and I don’t have a job and I’m only taking three classes (which no matter how much I explain that I can’t take more, she does not listen to me). I’ve been here for two weeks. Two fucking weeks. I am working on getting school settled, trying to find loopholes to sign up for more classes just to make her happy. I tested into the most advanced German class because I actually made an effort to study beforehand because I knew I couldn’t take a fourth class unless I tested into it. Apparently I can’t take the class anyway. I am planning on getting a job. I have to. I have to buy a mattress and that money has to come from me. I can’t keep buying my food from the dollar store and that money has to come from me. And I wouldn’t be mad if my family actually couldn’t afford to support me. I would do anything for them. I would switch schools and move back to a place I hate for them. To help them afford me. But when they’re out spending money on clothes and spas and vacations and 850 dollar dinners for four people, I get upset. Do you know how long 850 dollars would last me?? 850 dollars in extra funds. It would mean the goddamn world and to throw that away on one dinner which included my brother’s girlfriend of three months?? Fucking ridiculous. My parents can say they can’t afford to give me anything else all they want and maybe they can’t when they’re spending so much on themselves but I see that money and I see them spending it on themselves and I can’t imagine what else they are buying, the things I can’t see. The new clothes I don’t see, the grocery trips I’m not there for. It hurts my heart. I feel like they don’t care. They care more about getting themselves nice things and fun experiences than their daughter eating properly and having a fucking bed to sleep in. But I’m somehow the financial problem. I’m the burden because I am not taking 18 credits. 18 credits I would take if I were allowed to because I would let myself get walked over and force myself into classes I hate just so they would say that I am doing something right. It’s shit. I’m tired of it. I’m tired. I listen to all their shit about each other constantly, since I was fucking 12 years old, both of them shitting on each other to me, I took that for six years. I still do. It’s fucked up. And they can’t even support me financially when they have the funds to do so. I’m not asking for anything excessive. I just don’t want to be shit all over for taking the classes the school signed me up for, the only classes available to me, the classes that were given to me by my academic advisor which I made the effort to go and see and email multiple times just to make sure I was doing all I could. And I would like enough money to shop at Albertsons and buy things that are on sale. I don’t even want the nice things. I buy soy and almond milk because it is almost always on sale and usually two dollars cheaper than regular milk. Do you know that soy milk is a bit chunky? It is not smooth like normal milk, it has the consistency of milk that has gone bad for a few days. I try to make the best of it saying that it tastes better or whatever but last week the love of my life gave me 20 dollars to treat myself to a nice dinner and so I bought regular milk for the first time in months and it is amazing. I am so happy. I bought real pasta that gets soft when you boil it and I bought a bag of salad and I bought cheese that melts (dollar store cheese doesn’t melt. It tastes like plastic. I think it might actually be plastic). It was a like a dream. I am drowning worrying about my financial situation and trying to spend as little as I can so my parents don’t have to give me more money but the longer I do this for the more they seem to be spending and the less I seem to be getting. I’m exhausted. I’m tired of worrying about them and myself when they clearly don’t need to be worried about. I know that eating ramen noodles every night is part of the college experience but guess what?? I can’t even afford to do that!!!!! Those are one dollar per cup. I can’t afford that shit. I have to buy bulk noodles for a dollar. Everyone knows what cup noodles taste like. Now imagine a cheaper version of that. It is hard to believe it even exists. I cut myself the other day because I have to open bags with a knife that I stole. I can’t afford scissors and I don’t steal things anymore so I have to use the old shit I used to take. I really can’t even buy bandaids and neosporin for it. I’ve been wrapping my cut in tissues and using wet wipes to clean it. Although I’m sure I’ll run out of those soon too and I’ll have to start using clorox to clean it which I know is terrible for me. Did you guys know that dollar store soap doesn’t get soapy? Like it doesn’t make the bubbles that normal soap makes. It just kind of slides around and then disappears. I’m banking on the fact that it actually does wash my hands but honestly I don’t really know. I don’t mean to complain so much but everything feels like shit right now. I need help and I need support. I just want someone to take care of me. I know this is what it is to be an adult but I feel like I was thrust into it too fast. It is such a dramatic lifestyle change for me and I am not handling it well at all. I am trying my best for everyone else and everyone is still mad at me. I want to try my best for me. I want to take creative writing classes or film classes and not have to worry about my parents going into crippling debt because I’m an artsy type of person. I’m willing to go into something I lowkey hate for them. I’m taking these math and science classes for them. None of it’s for me and they still want me to do more for them. None of this is for me. I could be living in a two bedroom apartment in medford or talent with my boyfriend but I am stuck here in this shithole because my mother insisted this is what I wanted. Is this for me? Is this what it means to be living my life the way I want to? I am making these decisions, they are my decisions, but they are not for me. They are for people who would rather spend thousands of dollars on their own parties and dinners and experiences than give their daughter money for proper food. I don’t know how I feel anymore. I want to be ok. I don’t even need to be happy. That would be asking too much. Everything is so different now. I’m tired. I’m so tired. I just want a little help.