#this only works for the fall and winter

[oh-no-its-bird]

Love going to work on less than an hour of sleep. I can feel my entire body attempting to tilt over as I wait for the train. I'm gonna write so good today.

[born-to-lose]

I need 10 jägerbombs

[mjrdm]

.

[anhonestdaysworkcomic]

i've done so much research on medieval farming and all it's gotten me is more questions

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

why is shopping for parkas so fucking awful omg

[merry-fagoland]

oh it's joever for my white ass

i'm gonna be boiled steamed fried cooked sautéed ect ect ect made into a fine melted paste that you'll have to scrape off the pavement

[guinevereslancelot]

just wrapped the first christmas present of the year ❤️

[showyoumyfavoriteobsession]

Roughly once every four years I ponder the alternate timeline where I didn't get scared and quit college rugby after a single practice

[thistransient]

- If I had a nickel for every time I posted a photo of a goose and it ended up getting over a thousand notes, I'd have two nickels. I would say 'who can fathom the whims of the tumblr audience', because photos I love often go totally unappreciated in favour of something random I shared on a whim, but clearly there is a trend here. Also, the first time around I warned new followers the goose was a one-time phenomenon, and clearly I lied. There may well be future geese, just keep your expectations reasonably low.

- The other day I was talking to a Japanese friend about how jarring it is to overhear one's native language when living somewhere it isn't spoken often. Forced to eavesdrop because you can't not understand it! (Unlike the blissful white noise attained by zoning out around a language that requires some focus to understand.) Recently a loud American guy has started turning up with a companion at my local breakfast joint and inflicting this very situation upon me at high volume. I might not mind so much if I couldn't still hear him when they sit at the very back of the shop and I at the very front. To be fair, a) they come at the same time daily so it's within my power to simply go earlier and b) I'm sure I've tormented enough people with my own public English conversations (although I don't think anyone will ever accuse me of being loud, after a lifetime of complaints that I'm nigh inaudible). In a moment of pettiness, however, I decided to bring my loud Canadian friend today and sit in the back at their usual table. "I can see why you call him your nemesis" he commented, after witnessing [hearing] the state of things. I felt somewhat validated.

- Further brekkie shop gossip (what a fulfilling social life I have, you see): my slutty bisexual summer completely failed to manifest, but we can still have awkward bisexual autumn. Last week the cute guy who also eats there regularly and I ended up putting our trays away at the same time. He looked at me (probably on the simple basis that I was standing next to him). I glanced back and then quickly away. Outside the shop, he was organising his scooter when something possessed me to make direct eye contact. He gave me the nod, and something possessed me further to smile radiantly in response (albeit under the mask). He smiled back. I ran away.

- Because I agreed to model for a friend at a rope class this weekend, I have been faithfully abstaining from anything that could overly aggravate my ribs in their healing (although this also means I haven't been socialising much, hence the most interesting thing recently being the breakfast shop dynamics) and just going biking instead (safe enough so far). The blissful but brief window of perfect fall weather I waited for all summer has already started edging into "I could go outside and gambol about without getting too sweaty, buuut actually now I'm cold and would like to stay under the blanket." (Complain as I might, I actually do appreciate the return of boot & coat season. Or at least for myself, raised somewhere around the 43rd parallel north, since it's apparently always boot & coat season for locals.)

- I suppose the counselling I started has been having some effect, because I've begun to get some of my shit together (some, not all, but better than nothing). However, I think I will still have to do my December visa run (that ironic ticket to Macau). Because I haven't bought a return yet, I started to ruminate on the possibility of getting another Chinese visa (my previous one was invalidated when I updated the personal details on my new passport)- I could in theory take the ferry to Hong Kong and do it at the same agency where I got my first one, except that things have changed post-Covid and one must enquire personally about their rates and conditions. I may have enquired and am awaiting a response...

[robinsnest2111]

ah, good old duvet cover as a makeshift blanket trick

[nihilistic-optimistest]

hozier didnt lie when he said "to all things housed in her silence, nature offers a violence" violence of course being -20 degree celsius in early winter

[artemisiatridentata]

roommate has covid (again) (I hopefully dodged it bc I've been out on a work trip all week but still). I apparently got assigned awhile ago to lead next week's work trip but today is the first I heard about it so I'm scrambling to prepare everything on time. a covid conscious person I connected w/ online is coming to visit tomorrow and I'm stressed bc I have to get a bunch of work done before then and also I hope the vibe is cool in-person and that we can be friends! also none of my coworkers have said they can cover my shift tomorrow even though I put the request in the group chat weeks ago and I cover their shifts whenever I can. i am on day 32 of a 41 day stretch of working every single day with only two days off including 9/5 and tomorrow (IF one of my coworkers steps up...) . and then my next day off, in October, isn't even really a day off because I have to drive 4 hours round trip to the nearest city to get an MRI to see whether or not my recently diagnosed genetic disorder has given me internal cysts or tumors. I am hanging on by a thread haha

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

I bought new jeans today and I got a whole bag of free yarn, plus I got a new vintage-y (but new) cardigan last week, so finally, FINALLY, my wardrobe is properly growing and I'm so happy about that

[rambling-red-wizard]

I think I may never be sad ever again. There is a statue entitled "Farewell to Orpheus" on my college campus. It's been there since 1968, created by a Prof. Frederic Littman that use to work at the university. It sits in the middle of a fountain, and the fountain is often full of litter. I have taken it upon myself to clean the litter out when I see it (the skimmers only come by once a week at max). But because of my style of dress, this means that bystanders see a twenty-something on their hands and knees at the edge of the fountain, sleeves rolled up, trying not to splash dirty water on their slacks while their briefcase and suit coat sit nearby. This is fine, usually. But today was Saturday Market, which means the twenty or so people in the area suddenly became hundreds. So, obviously, somebody stopped to ask what I was doing. "This," I gestured at the statue, "is Eurydice. She was the wife of Orpheus, the greatest storyteller in Greece. And this litter is disrespectful." Then, on a whim, I squinted up at them. "Do you know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice?" "No," they replied, shifting slightly to sit.

"Would you like to?"

"Sure!"

So I told them. I told them the story as I know it- and I've had a bit of practice. Orpheus, child of a wishing star, favorite of the messenger god, who had a hard-working, wonderful wife, Eurydice; his harp that could lull beasts to passivity, coax song from nymphs, and move mountains before him; and the men who, while he dreamed and composed, came to steal Eurydice away. I told of how she ran, and the water splashed up on my clothes. But I didn't care. I told of how the adder in the field bit her heel, and she died. I told of the Underworld- how Orpheus charmed the riverman, pacified Cerberus with a lullaby, and melted the hearts of the wise judges. I laughed as I remarked how lucky he was that it was winter- for Persephone was moved by his song where Hades was not. She convinced Hades to let Orpheus prove he was worthy of taking Eurydice. I tugged my coat back on, and said how Orpheus had to play and sing all the way out of the Underworld, without ever looking back to see if his beloved wife followed. And I told how, when he stopped for breath, he thought he heard her stumble and fall, and turned to help her up- but it was too late. I told the story four times after that, to four different groups, each larger than the last. And I must have cast a glance at the statue, something that said "I'm sorry, I miss you--" because when I finished my second to last retelling, a young boy piped up, perhaps seven or eight, and asked me a question that has made my day, and potentially my life: "Are you Orpheus?" I told the tale of the grieving bard so well, so convincingly, that in the eyes of a child I was telling not a story, but a memory. And while I laughed in the moment, with everyone else, I wept with gratitude and joy when I came home. This is more than I deserve, and I think I may never be sad again.

Here is the aforementioned statue, by the way.

[diteach]

I had a really bad experience with Wellbutrin a few years ago. A few days after I started taking it, I had a seizure. Thankfully it doesn't seem to have had long term effects, except now I'm on epilepsy medication (and probably should have been before, due to childhood incidents we thought were fainting, but were likely seizures) . My doctor at the time said the Wellbutrin did not cause it but it was the only change I had made to my lifestyle right before the episode happened...Anyway I'm glad you're off that stuff, heat or not!

I'm really sorry about that, anon.

Wellbutrin, or rather bupropion in general, can be a real bitch.

Hope you're feeling way better and that your new meds are working fine! :)

[cuntwrap--supreme]

My phone tells me it's 6. But my brain tells me it's midnight. I love this part of the year.