#where the doctors spend like 2 hours with you and do all this testing and only take on a limited amount of patients

[thedisablednaturalist]

spent 3 hours last night panic searching for doctors to help me with my fibromyalgia. They are all either scams, extremely expensive boutique options (but are actually good apparently, if you have the money), extremely expensive scams, or have never heard of fibromyalgia and kick you out after 15 minutes.

[popquizhot-shot]

Everything is fine -2

A/n: aaaaah thank you so much for waiting for part 2! sorry it's been so long im having fever and i had electoral campaigning to do so i've been so busy :DDD enjoy some revenge and a moment<3 not proofread so please excuse any mistakes

Part -1

The house is quiet when you enter. Spotless. As if it’s been frantically cleaned and the dust has been swept under the rug. You want to laugh. The bedroom door swings open but this time, he’s awake. He’s reading a book, his bottom half covered by the blanket. He looks up as you close the door and place your tote on the desk.

“Hey, baby.” he smiles and you let the corners of your mouth lift a little.

“I need some air.” you say and draw the curtains, unlatching the window and pushing it open. The night breeze is cool and the air in the room seems fresher. You stick your head out a little and breathe deeply, looking down.

You’re known to have the most absolute, shit eyesight, but even you can the the glow of red eyes a floor below you. You smile and draw back, Taking a towel from the cabinet and heading to the bathroom without a word, leaving your husband confused.

He can hear the shower turn on, and a few seconds later, the singular lamp in the roo switches off, leaving him in complete darkness. 

Miguel swears in frustration and huffs under his breath. His eyes come to focus as he gets used to the dark.

The only sounds are the rush of water in the shower, yet he feels the silence is eerie. The wind picks up, it’s almost howling, It sounds like a wail. His breathing quickens a little, and his eyes fall to the little expanse to the outside world.

He freezes. There’s something outside.

On the 18th floor. Staring at him. It’s eyes glow a deep red and he can see claws gripping the window sill. 

He wants to shout, to scream, to fucking move. But he can’t. 

The bathroom door swings open and he looks at you, then back at the window.

There’s nothing. No one.

“What’s wrong, honey?” your voice is soft and breezy, “It’s just the dark.” 

He looks almost manic, hunched over as he looked between you and the window, “There w-was something there. With red fucking eyes and it was staring at me.”

He looks at the window again and that’s when he shouts, “There!” he points and jumps off the bed, “Right there!”

You look to where he points and in the dark, you know he won’t see your smile. But Miguel will. 

You tilt you head, “Miggy, there’s nothing there. Are you okay?”

“Wha- how can you not see that?!”  he sputters and you walk over to him, turning his face away from the window, “Calm down, love. I think we should go to a doctor. In fact, I’ll make an appointment tomorrow, it’s the weekend anyway.”

 He takes your hands off his face and sighs, “I know what I saw.” he hugs you.

Your eyes flit to the window and you see one of the scarlet eyes shut in a wink. And then they disappear.

Your hand smooths his hair down, “We’ll be just fine.”

—---------------------

“I think it’s just stress, Miggy.” you say as you drive back from the clinic. He’d been subject to a number of tests by the doctors trying to find something wrong with one of the head scientists of the corporation that funded their work. Of course, they found nothing, but they did advise him to rest,  “After all, you spend so much time at work.” you shake your head in pity, “I’ll take off for a few days.”

“No!” he winces when you turn to look at him with an eyebrow raised, “I mean, no, you don’t have to. I’ll be alright. It’s just stress. You dob’t have to sacrifice your work.”

“Oh nonsense.” you wave him off, “It’s not a sacrifice to take care of the man I love. Unless, you want me to stay out of the house.” you chuckle, “You want me to stay out, honey?”

“No.” his voice breaks, “Of course not.”

A ting! Sounds from his phone and you peak at the notification thats from Dana.

“Is Dana coming over?”

He double takes, “How- nevermind. Yeah, she said she’d be visiting in an hour or so.”

You hum, with a small smile and swerve to the right, and he jerks and almost hits head on the window. You park, “Could you bring the groceries in?” you gesture to the shopping you’d gotten done when he was at the clinic. You smile and get out, leaving him behind.

He sighs and gets out, shutting the front seat door while opening the back one and taking out the paper bag. He notices a man standing opposite the car with his back turned to it.

He’s wearing the same clothes that Miguel’s wearing. And when he turns around he takes his shades off and he stares at him with red eyes. Miguel draws ina sharp breath.

If you ever see someone that looks identical to you, run away and hide.

His phone rings and he looks down at it and cuts the call. When he looks back him, the figure has disappeared. Shit. Shit.

Run away.

Hide.

He looks to his right, to where the entrance to the building is and he doesn’t even take a step before pain blooms across the back of his head. He doubles over with a groan but is pulled back by his hair and he can feel a sharp pain at his neck.

Then, darkness.

—-----------------------------------

“Miguel, I swear to god.” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “This wasn’t the plan!  How do I explain how he magically arrived here after fainting downstairs? You know the plan was that I dru-”

“Tell him a tall, nice man helped you.” he snarks and you resist the urge to throttle him. You settle for a glare that makes him chuckle.

“Relax, Sweetheart. He’ll believe you. Now I've healed the puncture with bacta spray and the wound is gone.” he gestures to the man currently spread out on your shared bed, “I need you to wake him up, tell him he passed out from exhaustion. I’ll take it from there.”

You look up at him, “Thank you. For wasting your time on this.”

His hand comes to rest on your shoulder and it tingles, “No time wasted, I assure you.” he nods reassuringly, “Now wake him up.” He rolls his shoulders and settles down on the plush couch you have that faces the bed.

You flick some water from the bottle you keep on the bedside table onto your husband’s face and when he wakes with a start, you fall into the role of the worried wife.

“Oh my god! Miggy! You’re finally awake!” you cup his face, “I was so worried! Are you okay?” His widened eyes look inyo yours and his furrowed eyebrows soften.

“I-I blacked out. There was this guy who looked like me and-” his gaze travels behind you to fall on the couch and he freezes at the sight of the menacing man staring at him with those fucking red eyes. 

Run away and hide.

“Baby.” he looks back at you, “Do not  look back.”

The room is silent. You can see Miguel in the reflection of your husbands eyes. Like the snap of a branch, the doorbell rings and youre forced to turn around, much to your husband’s protests. 

You lock eyes with Miguel and look back at your husband with incredulous eyes, “Miguel, are you crazy? There is nothing there!” 

“Can you not see that?” he stretches his hand out to make a point and Miguel scowls.

“I can see absolutely bullshit!” you raise your voice.

The bell interrupts whatever he was going to say and take a deep breath. 

“I’m assuming that’s Dana?” you raise and eyebrow and he nods, “I’ll get it.”

“No! Don’t leave me with that fucking thing!” he points to where Miguel sits and then at you. You groan.

“Then you go and open the door!” 

“FIne!” he storms out, wobbling just a little. You hear the door open and your stomach drops when you head Dana’s voice.

“Hey.” Miguel says and you look down, “You’re going to be okay.”

You nod, “I’m going to be fine.”

He gestures to the door and you steel yourself before stepping out, a smile making its way onto your face as you spread your arms and greet Dana who replies with her high pitched voice. Even your husband seems to be in a better mood and you can’t help but remember the hologram.

“I love you” he kissed her neck softly and she giggled.

“Hey!” Dana says your name, “You okay?” 

“Youre going to be okay.”

You snap out of you daze, “Yeah, sorry. Long day.” you smile again and she pouts almost condescendingly.

“Awwww, I’m sure you’ve had a tiring day. Writing is such a hard profession.” she says airily.

You grit your teeth, “Tea?”

“Yeah honey, I think we’d like that.” Miguel smiles.

As you walk to the kitchen, and get out the ingredients, Miguel recounts the events of the day to Miguel and she scrunches her nose and laughs. She, too, says it’s just stress. Only this time, he listens. You swallow hard and go back to boiling the tea.

The apartment is built in an industrial style, and very much an open plan. The design is such that Miguel can see you from the bedroom. He can see your hands flying to open and close cabinets and crushing cardamom and washing tea cups. Living a life so different from the one you live with him.

The teacups clink as you place the tray on the coffee table. They take the cups and sip the tea with relish, like they always do. Miguel sighs contently and Dana groans with satisfaction.

“Have fun.” you grin, “I gotta shower. I’ll see you in a bit.” you whip around to speed walk awkwardly to the bedroom. Cursing at yourself inwardly because really? That’s the best excuse you could find?

Paces away from the bedroom, your eyes meet Miguel’s. The variant of your husband. This variant who had patched you up, and got you food and held you and was currently waiting for you and wasting his time on your petty revenge.

You breathe from your mouth so they can’t hear the sniffles you’re trying to hide as you shut the door.

```````````````````````````````

The door shuts with a click as you step in and in five seconds, Miguel curses his stupid enhanced hearing and winces. You give him a sad smile and he moves to wrap his arms around you. Your hands go around his neck and you look up at him. After a few moments, his head dips, and he’s so close. So close that the both of you are breathing the same air. Noses nuzzling each other, cheeks rubbing against the other and lips leaving their light feather touch on the other. 

He can hear the small sniffle you try to hide and he does the only thing he can think of to make you think of anything else. His head hides in the crook of your neck and he breathes in your scent. He relishes the small sounds that leave you. He lets them envelop his senses, so he doesn’t have to hear whatever is going on in the next room. His hands travel the expanse of your back, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt.  It’s a messed up dance you’re both in. He knows that. But, god, you’re so soft and-

Oh.

He breathes out a moan. Your lips are on his neck, gently mouthing at flesh. Your eyelashes leave whispers of kisses in their wake that make him lurch forward and pick you up. Your legs wrap around his waist like it’s an instinct.

The windows bathe you in the setting sunlight. And you look ethereal.

But. You’re not her. You’re not his love. Her smile was different, her hair shorter. Her eyes are softer. His head wracks with guilt but then he looks at you again. You’re doing the same. 

He can hear the laughter from outside, but it’s like time stands till as the both of you look at each other. Searching for what is missing. Using the other for their own comfort.

Like a reverent follower, he gazes at you. Like you’re his saint. He wants to say the words. To tell you to use him. So that the both of you can have some semblance of comfort in each other. Your head dips down and your lips brush his and his eyes shut. Succumbing to the feeling.

Two thuds are heard and you pull back, “That was fast.”

“Wait, you used the drug?” his eyes widen and you smile.

“Well, what’s left now but to take them to HQ?” you chuckle.

The hall is silent. There is no laughter.

He smiles.

[agi-ppangx]

💭let me help you

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader

word count: 806

tags: non!idol au, gn!reader, angst, fluff, pre established relationship

warnings: hospital, broken leg, a bit of crying

author's note: hiii, i hope yall are doing fine!! wrote this pretty quickly and its totally not proofread, so please dont mind any typos and mistakes </3 feedback and reblogs highly appreciated 🫶🏽

you tried calling your boyfriend several times now and finally, after what feels like forever, you heard his voice. "channie! hi, um… look, i'm really sorry, but we have to cancel our date tonight…" you said with a pounding heart. you felt guilty, knowing that today was one of rare times when chan could wrap up his work earlier and spend some time with you. "everything alright? you sound worried" chan asked, concerned about your well-being. you started to panic a bit, not wanting him to worry about your problem. "yeah, it's nothing, i swear it's just-" "y/n, what's going on?" he interrupted you, clearly lost in your rambling. you sighed and mumbled "i'm at the hospital right now. but it's fine! really, i'm fine, just won't be able to go to the movies later". chan didn't respond for a while, but you heard rustling and the door closing. "which hospital?" he then asked, his voice shaking. you knew it was useless to argue with him and you told him the address. "i'll be there in 20, wait for me, okay?" chan stated and you hummed, ending the call.

you and chan have been dating for a little over 2 months and throughout this time you weren't able to go on many dates, since chan's job was quite time consuming and your schedules collided every time you wanted to go out together. and today was one of the rare times when you could meet up. you two planned everything a week in advance, chose a movie you were going to watch and the restaurant you were supposed to eat dinner after it. but you had so much to do today before the date and in a rush your feet slipped on the stairs, causing you to fall down and break a leg. you were in a hospital for a while now, nervously waiting for your doctor to carry out essential tests and put a plaster on your leg. it felt like hours and you didn't know how long it would all take.

chan arrived pretty quickly, bursting into the emergency room and looking nervously around it. when his eyes finally met yours, he sprinted to your side and took a better look. "what happened?" he asked, his voice quiet and unstable. "i… fell down the stairs this morning" you murmured, ashamed that a grown up person could be that clumsy. "i'm really sorry channie, i wanted to run errands before our date and i just…" you sighed, pointing to your leg resignedly. you mumbled a quiet "i'm sorry" once again and looked down to hide the tears that gathered in your eyes. after a while, chan finally spoke. "y/n, you don't have to be sorry, you did nothing wrong. i was just really worried about you and for the whole drive here i was praying for you to be fine" he said, placing his hand on your cheek and wiping the tears from your face. "does it hurt?" he then asked softly, although he knew the answer. "it does, so bad, and i don't know how long i have to wait for the doctor" you whispered, sounding defeated, and more tears ran down your face. he kissed your forehead and then got up. you didn't know where he was going, but soon you saw him talking to the nurses and to your doctor. you didn't hear the conversation, but you saw that chan was impatient, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he was speaking. he returned to you after a while with a smile and a soft "they'll take care of you now". then everything happened really fast, the nurse taking you to examine you and within an hour you were ready to leave with a plaster on your leg.

chan offered to give you a ride, helping you to get to the car. "you'll spend a few days at my place, okay? i'll take care of you" he stated and you looked at him. "chan, you don't have to, i'll be fi-" you started but he interrupted you, "baby, you know your place is too cramped and complicated for you to get around with crutches. please, let me help you". you sat in silence for a while when you suddenly asked "baby?". it took you off guard, being in a fresh relationship you two didn't really use affectionate names yet, but you liked it a lot. you saw chan's face become red like a tomato and you giggled to yourself. "fine, let's go to your place, baby," you grinned. chan smiled to himself and then there was a pleasant silence between you. you wondered how you got so lucky to have chan in your life - someone who treated you with care and love and was there for you for good and for bad.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 2

Ghost!Robin won this week's poll as well! So have a little bit more of the fic for WIP Wednesday. *resolutely ignores the clock that informs me midnight was an hour ago so it is clearly Thursday*

Check out this week's poll if you want a say in what I post next.

Story Summary: Everything changed the evening Jason met Jazz's brother. Danny introduced him and his entire family to the ghost that is, apparently, haunting him. The ghost of the Robin he had been.

The ghost of the person everyone he's ever known wishes he still was.

All he wants is to make it go away.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

Jason did not sleep that night, spending his time beating up a punching bag instead. What sleep he did get was laid out on the mats in the workout room. Even that was plagued by nightmares.

So it was with The Joker’s laughs still echoing in his ears that he finally dragged himself to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

Danny was no where to be seen—probably sleeping—but the ghost was. He was staring out the window not doing anything.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” grumbled Jason.

The ghost did the head motion every Robin learned to indicate they were rolling their eyes. Can’t he signed.

Jason grunted. He…probably should have figured that one out. “Well go read a book or something and don’t bother me.”

The ghost gave him a very deliberate look before flying to one of the bookcases and reaching for a book. Only for his hand to go right through it. He glared back at Jason.

“Oh.” Jason did not feel bad for the creature. He was the interloper here. But the silence in the room was not helping anything. Not with his nightmares so close to the surface. He hooked his phone up to a portable speaker and pulled up his audiobook library. Today was the sort of day for an old favorite.

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence…

Jason hummed in satisfaction and turned his attention to the fridge. What to make for breakfast? He resolutely ignored the ghost who’d settled in his living room.

A few hours later, Jason was finishing the homemade fruit sauce when arms wrapped around his stomach and a head rested against his back.

“Mmmm, smells good,” mumbled Jazz, her voice rough with sleep.

Jason patted her arm. “I remember you liked the strawberry topping. Figured we could have it over pancakes. Batter is in the fridge.”

“Best boyfriend ever,” she said. She rested her head against his back and Jason felt himself relax in a way he hadn’t since he’d stepped out of the dining room and saw the ghost. “You left early.”

His stomach sank. Of course she noticed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Jason,” she said flatly, a hint of warning in her tone.

He sighed. “I just couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts going ‘round my head.”

“Hence the Austen?”

He chuckled. “Hence the Austen.”

She yawned and pushed away from him. “I’ll go brush my teeth and get Danny up.”

“He was up pretty late himself; might need to sleep in.”

She groaned. “Of course he was up, too. Well too bad. He could’ve gone to bed earlier and I think we need to have a talk about what to do next.”

“He said something about doctor yetis and a place called the Far Frozen,” Jason said. He stirred the strawberries and lifted a spoonful to test it’s consistency. Perfect. He turned off the burner.

“Oh. And you agreed?”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice if I want that”—he jerked a thumb at the ghost—“gone.”

“Jason…” her voice had gone soft and he winced.

“I know,” he admitted to the stove. “I know it’s gonna be more complicated than that.”

She was silent for a moment before sighing. “I love you, Jay,” was all she said before walking away. Presumably to the bathroom to get ready.

Which meant he had to start the pancakes. He pulled out the griddle, added a wad of butter, and turned on the heat.

By the time Jazz and Danny returned, Jason had made a pile of pancakes large enough to satisfy a speedster. Next to it sat the strawberry topping and a jar of syrup in case that was Danny’s preference. On an impulse, he grabbed the chocolate chips, too.

Chocolate and Austen, the perfect combination for a crappy day.

Unfortunately, breakfast passed much too quickly for his tastes and soon enough they were packing away the leftovers in the fridge.

“Jazz, you’re so lucky you found someone who could cook,” commented Danny.

Jason had to laugh. “Yeah, not one of her skills, is it?”

“Not one of either of our skills. Has she told you about what our kitchen was like growing up?”

“After your knife comment last night, I feel like she may have left some things out.” Despite everything that had happened since, he hadn’t forgotten that little tidbit. Jazz was so tight-lipped about her childhood that Jason made a point to horde every detail she let slip.

Jazz groaned. “Nope. I’m full of delicious food and happy. I do not want to have to remember the hell that was the Fenton kitchen.”

From the corner of his eye. Jason could see the ghost looking at them with interest. He glared at him; the ghost glared right back.

“That’s enough, you two,” ordered Jazz.

Jason broke eye contact and stared at the floor to mumble and insincere apology he knew wouldn’t fool Jazz.

Luckily she took pity on him and didn’t push. “Danny, Jason said something about you taking us to the Far Frozen?”

Danny nodded. “Yep! Frostbite might be able to tell us what happened and have some ideas on how to help them.”

“Well, Jason, Robin,” started Jazz and Jason had to force himself to not wince at the way she addressed them both. “When do you think you want to go?”

“Now,” said Jason immediately. “Or as soon as possible. I want to know what’s going on.”

The ghost nodded his agreement and made more of those chirping noises that Danny seemed to understand.

“Then let’s get going,” said Danny.

Jazz sighed again. “Hold it, Danny. Jason, you and I should go get changed. There’s a reason it’s called the Far Frozen.”

Jason took her advice and dug deep in his closet for the heaviest winter gear. Before too long, Jazz declared them both dressed in enough layers to satisfy her. They returned to the living room.

“Do you need us to do anything?” asked Jason.

“Nah.” Danny raised his hand and made a slashing motion with his fist. “That’s all it takes. There’s some benefits to being the Ghost King: my ring can open portals anywhere.”

Following the motion Danny had made, a tear formed in the very fabric of the universe. Though it, Jason could see a swirling sky of Lazarus green. Over his years as a vigilante, Jason had seen many strange and impossible things. But that tear unsettled him on a more visceral level than most. It reminded him of the pits, he wanted to run away. It felt like home, he wanted to run forward. Instead he stared, transfixed by the way the bit of sky—was it sky?—through the portal appeared to flow like water.

Jazz grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Danny didn’t hesitate and flew right through, transforming as he did. The ghost followed right on his heels. Both turned to stare at him and Jazz.

“Come on,” she said. “We’ll be perfectly safe.” She walked forward and Jason followed, half a step behind.

His conflicted feelings got stronger with every step, but he kept pace with Jazz until they were through. No ground existed wherever they were, but he and Jazz were able to float in place.

Behind them, the portal disappeared. Taking with it his only hope of retreat.

-----

Next

They've made it to the Infinite Realms! And Jason still has Feelings™️ about the ghost that's following. (Do you notice he never refers to Robin, even mentally, as anything other than "the ghost"? That's a very deliberate choice.)

The strawberry topping is a thing I make semi regularly. I will sit there and eat it with a spoon it's so good. But over pancakes? Absolutely decadent. (The recipe calls it a pie filling, but eh. I'd rather just eat it with a spoon. Or over ice cream. Or pancakes.)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Poor people pay higher time tax

Doubtless you’ve heard that “we all get the same 24 hours in the day.” Of course it’s not true: rich people and poor people experience very different demands on their time. The richer you are, the more your time is your own — not only are many systems arranged with your convenience in mind, but you also command the social power to do something about systems that abuse your time.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/10/my-time/#like-water-down-the-drain

For example: if you live in most American cities, public transit is slow, infrequent and overcrowded. Without a car, you lose hours every day to a commute spent standing on a lurching bus. And while a private car can substantially shorted that commute, people who can afford taxis or Ubers get even more time every day.

There’s a thick anthropological literature on the ways that cash-poverty translates into #TimePoverty. In David Graeber’s must-read essay “The Utopia of Rules,” he nails the way that capitalist societies generate Soviet-style bureaucracies, especially for poor people. Means-testing for benefits means that poor people spend endless hours filling in forms, waiting on hold, and lining up to see caseworkers to prove that they are among the “deserving poor” — not “mooches” who are defrauding the system:

https://memex.craphound.com/2015/02/02/david-graebers-the-utopia-of-rules-on-technology-stupidity-and-the-secret-joys-of-bureaucracy/

The social privilege gradient is also a time gradient: if you can afford a plane ticket, you can travel quickly across the country rather than losing days to the Greyhound or a road-trip. But if you’re even richer, you can pay for TSA Precheck and cut your airport security time from an hour to minutes. Go further up the privilege gradient and you’ll acquire airline status, shaving another hour off the check-in process.

This qualitative account of time poverty is well-developed, but it’s lacked a good, detailed quantitative counterpart, and our society often discounts qualitative work as mere anecdote and insists on having every story converted to numbers before it is taken seriously.

In “Examining inequality in the time cost of waiting,” published this month in Nature Human Behavior, public affairs researchers Steve Holt (SUNY) and Katie Vinopal (Ohio State) analyze data from the American Time Use Survey (AUTS) to produce a detailed, vibrant quantitative backstop to the qualitative narrative about time poverty:

https://www.nature.com/articles/s41562-023-01524-w

(The paper is paywalled, but the authors made a mostly final preprint available)

https://osf.io/preprints/socarxiv/jbk3x/download

The AUTS “collects retrospective time diary data from a nationally representative subsample drawn from respondents to the Census Bureau’s Community Population Survey (CPS) each year.” These time-diary entries are sliced up in 15-minute chunks.

Here’s what they found: first, there are categories of basic services where high-income people avoid waiting altogether, and where low-income people experience substantial waits. A person from a low-income household “an hour more waiting for the same set of services than people from high-income household.” That’s 73 hours/year.

Some of that gap (5%) is attributable to proximity. Richer people don’t have to go as far to access the same services as poorer people. Travel itself accounts for 2% more — poorer people wait longer for buses and have otherwise worse travel options.

A larger determinant of the gap (25%) is working flexibility. Poor people work jobs where they have less freedom to take time off to receive services, so they are forced to take appointments during peak hours.

Specific categories show more stark difference. If a poor person and a wealthy person go to the doctor’s on the same day, the poor person waits 46.28m to receive care, while the wealthy person waits 28.75m. The underlying dynamic here isn’t hard to understand. Medical practices that serve rich people have more staff.

The same dynamic plays out in grocery stores: poor people wait an average of 24m waiting every time they go shopping. For rich people, it’s 15m. Poor people don’t just wait in longer lines — they also have to wait for understaffed stores to unlock the cases that basic necessities are locked behind (poor people also travel longer to get to the grocery store — and they travel by slower means).

A member of a poor household with a chronic condition that requires two clinic visits per month loses an additional five hours/year to waiting rooms when compared to a wealthy person. As the authors point out, this also translates to delayed care, missed appointments, and exacerbated health conditions. Time poverty leads to health poverty.

All of this is worse for people of color: “Low-income White and Black Americans are both more likely to wait when seeking services than their wealthier same-race peer” but “wealthier White people face an average wait time of 28 minutes while wealthier Black people face a 54 minute average wait time…wealthier Black people do not receive the same time-saving attention from service providers that wealthier non-Black people receive” (there’s a smaller gap for Latino people, and no observed gap for Asian Americans.)

The gender gap is more complicated: “Low-income women are 3 percentage points more likely than low-income men and high-income women are 6 percentage points more likely than high-income men to use common services” — it gets even worse for low-income mothers, who take on the time-burdens associated with their kids’ need to access services.

Surprisingly, men actually end up waiting longer than women to access services: “low-income men spend about 6 more minutes than low-income women waiting for service…high-income men spend about 12 more minutes waiting for services than high-income women.”

Given the important role that scheduling flexibility plays in the time gap, the authors propose that interventions like subsidized day-care and afterschool programming could help parents access services at off-peak hours. They also echo Graeber’s call for reduced paperwork burdens for receiving benefits and accessing public services.

They recommend changes to labor law to protect the right of low-waged workers to receive services during off-peak hours, in the manner of their high-earning peers (they reference research that shows that this also improves worker productivity and is thus a benefit to employers as well as workers).

Finally, they come to the obvious point: making people less cash-poor will alleviate their time-poverty. Higher minimum wages, larger earned income tax credits, investments in low-income neighborhoods and better public transit will all give poor people more time and more money with which to command better services.

This week (Feb 13–17), I’ll be in Australia, touring my book Chokepoint Capitalism with my co-author, Rebecca Giblin. We’re doing a remote event for NZ on Feb 13. Next are Melbourne (Feb 14), Sydney (Feb 15) and Canberra (Feb 16/17). More tickets just released for Sydney!

[Image ID: A waiting room, draped with cobwebs. A skeleton sits in one of the chairs. A digital display board reads 'Now serving 53332.' An ogrish, top-hatted figure standing at a podium, yanking a dollar-sign shaped lever looms into the frame from the right. He holds a clock aloft disdainfully, pinched between the thumb and fingers of one white-gloved hand.]

[grison-in-space]

sorry I know this was not your point in the intersex post but I was wondering how you deal with your facial hair? I'm a cis woman and have lots of chin and facial hair (not to mention absurd body hair, as well as progressive hair loss on my head) and it's been pretty devastating for my self esteem. I have never been a beauty and now that chronic illness and age is catching up to me I have a hard time not feeling subhuman (the debilitating anxiety does not help).

My doctor insists I don't have PCOS and that my hormones are normal after multiple tests and 2nd opinions I've gotten have said the same. I tried laser and it seemed to make it worse, and I liked electrolysis and did many sessions over six months but it's not affordable to me at the moment and it seems it's all grown back? But it's been a few years so maybe it's just new growth. I am hoping to restart the electrolysis if I ever get close to having a comfortable financial situation again lol.

I find shaving it feels awful, the stubble is painful and I have a five o clock shadow like 2 hours later, but spending 30 minutes plucking every day is also not fun. Waxing just always rips off my skin and misses enough hairs to be annoying, even when I've gotten it professionally done.

It's absolutely driving me mad but it feels like I have no options to do anything about it.

I am so sorry, Anon: the chin and neck hair hits me in a bad sensory place as much as or more so than the visual side of it, so I compulsively pluck it as it appears. (I pretty much ignore everywhere else.)

My experience with laser hair was that it at least lightened and softened the hairs that were produced where I had it as a teenager, which makes plucking feel less necessary. Occasionally I contemplate one of those at home laser hair kits, but I've never actually gotten around to grabbing one.

That said, the level of androgenization you're describing is absolutely high enough to be worth seeking care for. Check whether your insurance has provisions for gender affirming care. You may also be a good candidate for spironolactone (for the thinning hair) or HRT, particularly if you're post menopausal. You're probably still going to be grappling with hair until you can do another electrolysis or laser session, but those should help you with keeping facial hair from coming back.

Have you seen a dedicated endocrinologist? It's also worth seeking an expert opinion, because the specific suite of symptoms you're describing certainly do sound like something unusual is going on whether or not it's PCOS.

[bangrychannie]

College AU Stay Kids Fanfiction Recs

Hello! You all voted for college AU for my next rec list, so here it is! I just compiled all of my bookmarks into a spreadsheet for easier recs, and I have 31 under college AU (just shy of 1 million words of fanfic omg). I will not put all of them but I'll make a part 2 at some point. Lots of pairings here but mostly Minsung. I tried to do a mix of explicit and non explicit ones.

My other fanfic rec lists:

Misc

Time Loop

Angst free

Demons

love, friendship, and other complications by flying_dream (Sungbin | 1/1 | 18,363 | Teen and Up)

Jisung has never had a date for Valentine's Day. Never. Never. Naturally, as his best friend and number #1 bro, Changbin steps up to the plate and volunteers as tribute. Yeah, this is definitely going to be one for the books.

Classic idiots to lovers. Obsessed with this one

Attachments by bitsori (Minsung | 1/1 | 16,423 | Teen and Up)

“You can do the 24-hour handcuff challenge!” Felix suddenly suggested, and the gears in Jisung's head immediately began to turn. “It's perfect for you and Minho-hyung, and your viewers would love that,” he added. Jisung took pause; he had to admit that their idea could make for amusing content. He and Minho always had fun when they were together, and he knew that his subs love to see him with his best friend. in which Jisung and Minho spend an entire day literally attached to each other, and certain revelations come about.

Youtuber Jisung, dancer Minho, teensy tiny bit of angst I love it

36 Questions to Fall Out of Hate by leebitcore (Minsung | 1/1 | 15,719 | Explicit)

Images of Lee Minho’s stupidly smug face flash through Jisung’s brain as he marches out of the dining hall to go to the faculty building. He can already hear his condescending voice, arrogant as he teases Jisung about them being partnered up. Something along the lines of “Happy to see me? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we do well.” or, Jisung and Minho are paired together to test the 36 Questions to Fall in Love for a school project. There’s only one problem – Jisung can’t fucking stand him.

Enemies to lovers/academic rivals Minsung what more could you ask for

Sure Strike by falloutgirl (2min | 1/1 | 27,963 | explicit)

Minho's eyes trail down Seungmin’s shirtless body, his toned arms, his lithe form, the bit of lean tummy that Minho has been imagining biting into for weeks. His eyes follow the sweat dripping off Seungmin’s hair and down his chest, rolling down his abdomen as it pools against his bellybutton. His gaze sinks lower, lower, and he sees all of Seungmin, in nothing but the tightest pair of white boxer briefs Minho’s ever seen. A strangled breath breaks its way out of Minho's throat. There’s nothing left to the imagination.

One sided enemies to lovers where Minho is incredibly down bad for Seungmin. Obsessed. The smut in this is insane so make sure to read the tags lol

eight hugs a day (keeps the doctor away) by tuanpark (Seungjin | 1/1 | 20,879 | Teen and up)

Seungmin didn’t want to argue. “Look, can you help me or not? I’m just trying to relieve some stress here, man.” Hyunjin seemed deep in thought. “I can’t help you if you don’t want to hug… But tell you what! We can work up to it. Start small and work our way up to one. Free of charge!” Or Seungmin is a stressed college student, and Hyunjin is a self-proclaimed hug therapist.

I like this one bc Hyunjin is odd af and Seungmin has no clue how to deal with it lol. Very cute

the long game by floraii (Hyunsung | 1/1 16,045 | Teen and Up)

“Anyway,” he continues, voice still sultry, “I’ve been seeing you in class, and I was just wondering—” he moves his hand to curl around a strand of his hair. “Could I get your number?” Han Jisung’s big brown eyes blink again. His gaze darts to his lips, then to his notebook, then up to his eyes. “To study?” “Yeah,” Hyunjin blurts without thinking. What the fuck? Study? What is happening? Why is he agreeing?

Hyunjin has a type. It’s not usually shy boys in his Intro to Statistics class with big round eyes and glasses, but Han Jisung is different.

Nerd Jisung and jock Hyunjin yippeee

reply hazy, try again by mrehk (Chanbin | 1/1 | 14,951 | explicit)

Changbin’s calculus tutor is Bang Chan. Smile wide, eyes shining, curly hair wild around his head. He’s got his backpack slung over one arm, those fuck ass chino shorts with a five inch inseam that make Changbin’s mouth water— and, goddamn, he’s wearing a fucking cropped t-shirt. Jisung and Seungmin are going to string Changbin up and have their way with public humiliation when they hear about this. (OR: solving for the derivative of l+o+v+e)

Changbin drooling over Chan was super funny, I loved this. I don't think mrehk could write something bad though haha

pretty boy, don't you want me to? by sunshinedozing (Seungsung | 1/1 | 11,938 | Explicit)

“You’re cute.” Seungmin says bluntly. “And I kind of want to take you home with me. My shift’s over in thirty minutes, if you feel like waiting.” Jisung blinks at him a couple times. “Really?” He asks incredulously. “Wow, okay. Yeah I’ll um, I’ll wait.” Seungmin grins, and he lets a little sharpness slip into it. “Great, I’ll see you then.” Jisung gulps. “Yeah, see you then.”

Jisung kind of wants the hot librarian who keeps distracting him to take him home and fuck him stupid. Luckily, the hot librarian wants the same thing.

sunshinedozing is also a fantastic writer! love this one, loser Jisung is like the best thing ever

peaches and cream by stellalunar (Minsung, 2/2 | 49,793 | Teen and Up)

Jisung truly doesn't mean to spend his Friday night holding someone else's sopping clothes in the laundry room of the dorm building while said someone else stares at him with an expression that's a mix of amusement, confusion, and pity. But here he is, standing in the laundry room of the dorm building, holding the sopping wet clothes of a very amused college student who's valiantly giving his best effort not to straight-up laugh at Jisung. - Or, in which Jisung's dumb, sleep-deprived self accidentally steals Minho's clothes and then Minho shows up at Jisung's door with an impish grin and a needed favor and accidental feelings ensue.

Jisung is so awkward in this one and it's super cute

falling thru the cracks by liknow (Seungbin | 1/1 | 6862 | Teen and Up)

"Friends don't kiss," Minho says, eyes narrowed. "Uh, sometimes they do? I mean, we're really good friends..." Changbin tries to defend. "Really good friends don't kiss either, idiot."

in which: Changbin and Seungmin accidentally make a habit of making out at parties, then start going to parties just so they have an excuse to make out, then realize that isn't normal.

another idiots to lovers so funny

Ok so that's all for now haha, I will definitely post a part 2 for college AUs but fake dating will be next! That is a much shorter list unfortunately so if y'all have good ones that you think I'd like I wouldn't mind if you sent them over

[0blobthefish0]

Could you do a part 3 for One last time? (Preferably happy end)

amelia shepherd masterlist | main masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

One Last Time Part 3

Amelia Shepherd x Female Raeder 3,268 words

You had been fired. Fired from your corporate job, the awkward walk with a box full of your stuff in your hands - only to be seen in movies - was real and you were embarrassed beyond belief. In all fairness you hadn't been fired, you had been cut, but it might as well have been the same thing; you were still without a job.

Your friend stared at you with a frown as she watched you let out another dramatic sigh over the situation you had found yourself in. The two of you had already talked about how unhappy your previous job had made you: the endless hours, the never changing days, the strict dress code and the entitled men. God, you never wanted to go back into a job like that ever again.

"Babysit." Your friend blurted out. You turned your head and raised a singular brow at her that read the word 'really?' "Don't look at me like that, Isaac loves you."

"He fell out of a tree." You dead-panned which made her laugh, but you serious what if Isaac hadn't been so lucky?

"Eh- it was his own fault. Kids are tough." She shrugged as she took a sip of her wine. "You've been there ever since Isaac was born, helping where you could even before his dad left." She stood up and patted your knee, "Think about it, I think you'd do great." She told you as she walked off into the kitchen.

That night you had spent your time researching, and the more that you had, the more that the thought of babysitting became no longer just a thought but something tangible - something truly obtainable. Over the course of a few months, you had begun your journey - training the skills you'd need for your new job. And then you had started your first, official, babysitting job; and you loved it. Every day was something new, it was exciting, bringing something into your life that you hadn't realised had even left - joy. Only after a few months of servicing the standard babysitting, you had decided to switch to a company that focused on providing for those who had more taxing jobs: firefighters, entrepreneurs, paramedics, those who have to travel for work and, of course, surgeons, nurses and doctors.

You checked once again that you had the correct address and pressed a finger to the doorbell; you heard a dull clatter and then the click-clacking of heels on a hard floor before the door swung open. A tall, red-headed woman stood in front of you, a slightly stressed smile on her face as she quickly welcomed you in. Addison Montgomery. You had met before, for your compatibility test, a key part in the hiring process - especially when you'd be spending a lot more time with her son than the regular babysitter. The second you had met Henry, you fell in love with him. So young, but already had such a big character.

"Henry's sleeping right now, just in that room over there, all of his things are in here, there's food in the fridge if you wanna cook or there's money if you'd like to order something," Addison said hurriedly as she gave you a very quick tour of the ground floor of the ocean-side house. "Again, I'm so sorry to call you so late, it's just that I got paged and-" she let out a nervous laugh and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"It's no problem, it is my job after all," you replied and sent her a comforting smile as you followed her to the door. "Now, you should really get going, you have nothing to worry about. I can even send updates if you'd like?" You offered, she was a first-time mum, leaving your child in the care of somebody else was stressful, especially the first time around.

"That'd be perfect, really, I cannot thank you enough." Her eyes flicked to her watch and she stepped outside her door, "okay thank you so, so much, I have to go." You lingered by the door as she ran toward her door, and just as you were about to turn away you heard her shout. "Another person lives here too, just so you don't freak out or anything if she does come home!" You gave her a thumbs up as she rolled up the window and sped off into the night.

▫▫▫

"ADDISON!" Amelia shouted as she stood in front of the open fridge, a hand on each door, as she eyed a tub of leftover pasta.

"Gosh, I'm right here," Addison lightly scolded as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. Amelia looked over her shoulder sheepishly and gave her an apologetic smile.

"Can I eat this?" She questioned holding up the tub.

"Yeah," Addison replied with a wave of her hand as she put away Henry's toys that were littered across the floor. Amelia scooped out a portion into her bowl before pushing it into the microwave, almost instantly a divine smell wafted out from behind the door as it heated up her meal. As Amelia shovelled a forkful into her mouth she let out a delighted hum.

"God, this is amazing, who cooked this?" She gasped as she pushed more into her mouth. "Cause it definitely wasn't you." Addison rolled her eyes as she shook her head in reply to Amelia's stab at her.

"Why do you say it like I can't cook?" Addison huffed to which Amelia only raised a brow. "The new babysitter cooked it last night, she's really good with Henry, she's perfect honestly. I was so glad she was able to come on such short notice yesterday."

"Well, you should give her a raise because this," she pointed at the pasta with her fork, "is art." As Amelia swallowed another forkful, she couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia; little did she know that, not even twelve hours earlier, you had been dancing around the kitchen singing to Henry as you chopped up a few tomatoes.

▫▫▫

It had been a month after your first night with Henry and Addison couldn't be happier- you were a big help, always being available for when she was suddenly called in for an emergency. Amelia, however, was yet to meet Addison's god-sent babysitter.

You pushed the key into the lock and quickly shut the door behind you. Addison wasn't home; she had called you saying that she was needed at the hospital and to let yourself in as she wasn't going to be there because her sister was home. You hang your coat on the rack before making your way to Henry's room to check on him, the steady pitter-patter of the shower sounded throughout the house, a telltale sign that somebody else was here. Henry was sleeping soundly and so you started on cleaning the kitchen in preparation of cooking Addison's request for that night.

Amelia stepped out of the shower, her hair wet as she wrapped a towel around herself and tiptoed outside of the bathroom. However, she stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes landed on a door. Just a door, it had been there when she got in and it was there now as she was stepping out. Her brows furrowed as she stared at it. Though still ajar, the door was less ajar than she had remembered. Now, if Amelia hadn't known that she was alone she wouldn't have given it a second thought. But she did and she grew more nervous as each second went by. A clang echoed from downstairs and Amelia felt her heartbeat quicken.

With caution, Amelia stepped down the stairs and peeked through the bannisters for a glimpse of the intruder, but saw nothing. With a deep, soundless, breath, she slinked down the remainder of the stairs and tip-toed her way through the corridor, the clanging getting louder. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and froze. One second passed and then another, stretching for much longer than she thought was possible before a figure shot though the air and smashed into the window, causing Amelia to jump backward.

A bird. Amelia felt herself relax, the towel slacking around her shoulders. After a few more seconds, she saw as the poor bird picked itself up from the floor and hurtled, once again, full force at the window, wincing as she heard the familiar crash and thump. She needed a towel in order to help the bird out and so she started for the kitchen. Little did she know that you were in there, recovering from being 'attacked' by the bird and just about to grab the hand towel from the rack, edging closer and closer to each other without evening knowing it.

Amelia rounded the corner; and let out a frightened shout. Clasping a hand over her chest as she heaved in oxygen. "Jesus fuck!"

"Amelia?" You almost shouted, but there was really no need - you knew that voice anywhere.

"Y/n!" She gaped in shock causing her hand to slip on its hold on the towel ever so slightly. You felt your cheeks reddening at her appearance; damp hair, bright eyes and glowing skin which was only covered by a small towel.

"I um, yeah, what-" your eyes widened and pointed blindly with your thumb behind you- "Addie." Your realisation hit you like a brick, you were working for the Addison, the same Addison that was Amelia's found sister. You watched as Amelia nodded her head that same pout on her lips that she always did, some things never changed.

"You're the babysitter," Amelia hummed as she came to her own revelation. Comically, Henry's cries sounded throughout the kitchen from the monitor and you quickly excused yourself and disappeared, not before Amelia stole a quick look at you leaving. A small smile overcoming her lips before it quickly fell with the widening of her blue eyes.

▫▫▫

Time could not move more quickly; Henry was already a year old and you and Amelia had been dancing around each other for many months. As she became more comfortable around you, you couldn't help but recognise more of her old self; the small habits, the little mannerisms and the quick facial expressions. God, you felt like a teenager again. Falling for the same person.

You fell back onto the sofa with an exhausted sigh - getting Henry down was proving much harder now that he had the physical ability to explore, it being all that he wanted to do - and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. As you flicked through the endless number of films and shows you heard keys to the front door jingle before it cracked open. Heavy boots echoed throughout the silent room, only lit by the light from the television, as they moved closer. You already knew who it was; you could pick her out in a room, blind.

"Y/n!" She greeted with her wide grin as she threw her keys onto the counter.

"How was work?" You questioned as she passed you, kicking off her shoes and falling back onto the sofa next to you. So close her thigh was pressed up against yours, the heat of her skin blooming across yours causing your cheeks to burn ever so slightly.

"It was alright, nothing too special, just one aneurysm after the other," she mumbled before reaching over you to grab a handful of crisps. "What're we watching?" She nodded, mouth full, toward the screen.

"Oh-" you let out, quickly directing your attention away from her, "nothing yet." You felt Amelia turn to you, raising a brow and taking the remote from you, and before you could protest, music sounded throughout the room. "What's this?"

"Something good," she replied, eyes already glued to the screen, and you couldn't help the smile pulling at the corners of your lips before turning to stare at the same screen.

Your skin was burning - not like how it does when it touches something just out of the oven, but more as if you had been struck by lightning. You felt static. Amelia had inched further, cuddling into your side as your hand rested on her waist; how it happened? You didn't know. The scene displayed in front of you was serene, romantic, like a field of wildflowers and your skin was tingly - like the feeling of holding something that was about to fall. You felt her shift softly beside you and you turned your head, only for your breath to hitch, her blue eyes already on yours. You searched her eyes, as music began to play, and watched intently as they flicked to your lips. You mirrored her movements. Heart steadily picking up speed. Lup-dup. Her tongue poked out to wet her bottom lip. Lup-dup. You did the same. Lup-dup. Your eyes connected; and she began to lean in. Lup-dup, lup-dup. Your hand pulled her in further and her fingers lightly touched your collar bone. Lup-dup, lup-dup, lup-dup. Her soft lips met yours, your eyes fluttered closed, and the two of you moved rhythmically like a song remembered only once it begins to play. Her hands feeling across the top of your chest before she found purchase on your shoulders as she unconsciously swung a leg over your lap to straddle you.

And then the two of you jolted away. Henry's cries blaring through the room. Cutting sharply through your moment. Her chest heaved in time with yours as she stared down at you with her pupil-blown eyes. You swallowed nervously and Henry let out his second wave of screams.

Soundlessly, Amelia slid off of your lap and sat cross-legged on the sofa as she watched you send her a nervous smile and hurriedly make your way up to the baby. Leaving her picking at her pink, swollen lips - courtesy of you - with a shit-eating grin on her face.

You didn't see Amelia until a week later when you were pushed into a storage cupboard.

"There's a special thing happening at mummy's work today and you get to meet all of her friend's kids," you answered Henry's question as you pulled his top over his head. "You're gonna make a ton of new friends today, Henry." You promised him before you scooped him up in your arm and swung his bag onto your other shoulder.

You hear the sound of a loud horn come from outside and you quickly rushed down the stairs and out the door to see the Uber that you had asked for waiting just outside the house. You gave Henry his dummy after you strapped him securely into the back seat, before climbing into the passenger's side as you apologised for being late.

After a few moments of awkward silence - only filled by the low rumble of the engine and the constant noise of the outdoors - the driver, John, turned to you. You gave him a quick smile as he found the words to say, before he shook his head and continued the journey just as it had started.

You saw the hospital come into view and you quickly checked the time only for your eyes to widen, Addison was going to kill you. As soon as the car rolled to a stop you leapt out of the passenger door and pulled open the back door to unclip Henry from the seat and pull him up into you. "Thank you! Wait-" you started as you began to rummage through the pockets in your trousers, "here." You pushed a note into the man's hand and you moved to close the door.

"Is he yours?" The driver questioned, pausing you from closing the door fully. You could hear the judgement in his voice; you looked younger than you were, but to have that firsthand account of prejudice just because you had a baby with you - you couldn't believe it.

"No." You said bluntly with a scowl and closed the door shut, harder than you normally would, and turned forcefully on your heel into the hospital. Addison was the first person to greet you, taking Henry from your arms, before she guided you to the nursery quickly.

"Where have you been, Y/n?" She questioned your tardiness.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry! But I couldn't find Henry's dummy this morning and he did not want to wear his clothes today. And! That Uber driver definitely thought I was Henry's mother and was definitely judging me for it. I could see it in that man's eyes, y'know?" You rambled as you skipped every other step just to catch up with her.

Addison sent you a sad smile and then she was pushing through the door to the nursery. Your mood instantly brightened, it was as if a paint factory had exploded; the kids were dipping their hands and feet into paint and pressing them into the white walls - with the help of an adult of course.

"Addison, I'll just put the bags here and be in my way," you walked to the collection of bags in the corner and squatted down as you checked that Henry had everything he needed.

"You can stay if you'd like," Addison urged. "You know that Henry adores you," she frowned as she made Henry look at you."

"Awwh I'm really sorry, Henry, but I've got something nice in the oven." You looked over to Addison, "Your favourite," and you watched as her face lit up as she hummed at the thought.

"Okay, fine, say bye-bye to Y/n," she told him as she moved his hand to wave goodbye. You let out a wide grin as you said your goodbyes and left the nursery.

You paused. Mentally bashing yourself for not looking around as you had previously followed Addison through the hospital. You squinted, telling yourself that you did in fact know the way before taking one step after the other.

You were lost. Definitely lost. And where was everyone? Weren't you in a hospital? You let out a deep breath before continuing on your journey, when a familiar figure came from behind a corner.

"Amelia!" You sighed happily as you began to move to her side. She looked serious and you slowed down slightly, but she was still coming closer.

"Hi," she began when she was close enough to put a hand on your back and guide you, quite forcefully you'll admit, into a storage cupboard. The door closed behind her.

"Woah! What, hello?" Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes searched Amelia for answers.

"Can we talk?" She sounded so serious and you instantly zipped your mouth shut and nodded your head. "We kissed," you nodded your head again, "I really like you and if you want to- I'd really like to try again. I've changed, I promise."

Amelia was picking at her fingers as a smile grew on your face. "Amelia, I really like you too and I'd love if we tried again." Amelia's head shot up and her blue eyes bore into yours.

"Really?" And you let out a laugh as you pulled her closer.

"Yes, really. Of course, really." You smiled and Amelia pressed her lips to your own in a sweet kiss. The smile on your face mirrored by her, until your face fell.

"Shit."

Let's just say that Addison's muffins were definitely burnt to a crisp. However, you and Amelia had lots of fun remaking them: teaching her the recipe, (her) making a mess, dancing to music and stealing kisses in between breaks. The two of you were going to be just fine.

[medstudentblues]

it's the first day of my new rotation -- community of family medicine! i just accomplished my outside rotation. the last two weeks have been lighter compared to our 1 week in a public hospital somewhere in pasig, but the hospital i just rotated in came with its own challenges.

i was decked in ward 4 (onco/hema) ward where there are lots of leukemia patients (as mentioned in this post). then ward 8 where i stayed longer. ward 8 is the surgery ward where i was decked with a notorious resident who was rumored to throw a test tube at a junior intern but we were good when we worked together. we became close she bought ice cream for us and even asked for perfume recommendations. it wasn't so bad!

ward 8 was also full of interesting cases. i was able to handle neonates with omphalocele, gastroschisis, hirschsprung disease etc. it wasn't as depressing as the oncology ward, but it was humid (as the doctor's quarters weren't airconditioned). there is more room compared to the oncology ward so the relatives either sleep on the floor or beside the patient. i heard that some patients code (meaning, we have to resuscitate/revive them), especially neonates with multiple congenital anomalies, but there weren't any during my shift. some children came in just for the surgery (inguinal hernia, ruptured appendicitis) then was discharged after. some didn't stay long compared to the onco ward children who spends their life in hospitals.

i was excited during my pedia surgery ward rotation because i love surgery, i love scrubbing in surgical cases. i was waiting for an open heart surgery but i was on night duty when they had an operation scheduled :-( i was able to scrub in, however, in a bag insertion in a patient with gastroschisis. it was interesting.

my rotation ended with me being pulled from neonatal ICU to the hema/onco ward again. i was pulled out because a kid with myelodysplastic syndrome need to be monitored. she was on DNR (do not resuscitate). she was grunting, had high fever (Tmax 41C), and was seizing every now and then. when i got there at 8pm, everything was up (her temperature, heart rate, and respiratory rate). we advised tepid sponge bath to the mother after ordering an antipyretic, to which she complied, and had units of platelet concentrate standby. in the past few days, this kid was receiving platelet concentrates because her platelets were consistently, extremely low, to the point that she already had intracranial hemorrhage. this kid has polydactyly (with extra fingers) and trisomy 8. her mouth was red from the mucosal bleeding.

at 2 in the morning, she expired. the mother called me because her breathing seemed slow so i ran to the patient and immediately checked her heartbeat. my adrenaline was up, thinking of all the possibilities that could come after (basic life support sequence), but then i remembered that kid was on DNR, and that made me melancholic. i listened to the heartbeat and from 164 just an hour ago, it was 64. i checked the radial pulse and it was really thready, almost next to nothing. after a few more seconds, i listened to the heartbeat again and there was nothing i could hear. i informed the parents that their kid just expired and informed the hospitalist (junior consultant) on duty that the kid just died.

this time, i wasn't on the verge of tears like the last time a kid died on my shift. this time i was rational, i was thinking of what came after -- the papers that had to be prepared and submitted and the doctors i had to inform. i offered my condolences to the parents and left them to grieve. there is only so much i could do.

the hospitalist told me, "you don't have to monitor a kid hourly now," and i did not say anything. for me that kid was not an hourly monitoring hurdle for me. that kid's initials was A,D. that kid liked soup and stew. she was born with trisomy 8, myelodysplastic syndrome, and had polydactyly. her mother told me she was a good kid. and she just left this world, and a hole in her parents' heart.

[hillbilly---man]

Random Tumblr Ask Question:

What would you do if you went into your kitchen, and found a living clone of yourself?

Context: This person is YOU from this morning, but instead of doing the tasks you did, they were in the kitchen. For all other purposes, they're you. They're not an imposter, they have your memories etcetc.

This is such an interesting question!

I think after trying to figure out HOW it happened and also verifying somehow that it's real, the two of us would have to sit down together and figure out how we were going to work this out.

Putting it under a cut bc it got really long lmfao

Assuming that the other me is here to stay, we'd need to come up with some way of differentiating ourselves. It would be really arrogant to act as if I'm the original (I'm sure the other me feels the same way), so something like Jessica 1 & Jessica 2 wouldn't work. Maybe we color code ourselves?

We would have the logistical challenge of basically existing in two places at once. We only have one social security number, one car, one bed, one job, etc. Obviously I'd tell my friends and family about this, but it could get complicated when it comes to official things. We'd probably have to legally continue living as one person.

And share the bed, unfortunately. (There's a guest bed but it's not as nice as my bed lmao)

I'm tempted to be like.. "we can take turns going to work!" But it would be difficult. I have a hard enough time keeping track of shit at work as it is .. I don't need to be literally absent half the time too. Maybe we can take turns on a quarterly basis. One of us would probably spend time doing a side hustle of some sort while the other is at work. It couldn't be a full second job (with a schedule) unless the hours were outside of my own work hours; it might look suspicious/fraudulent. The additional income would help pay for the increased food/bills/etc.

On a ... More unfortunate note, we'd have to share medication. Most of what I take is no big deal. We'll let the one working in the office have the vyvanse. We'll supplement the prescription vitamins with OTC stuff. I guess we'd alternate doses of the MS medication (and other stuff) and cross our fingers that nothing bad happens from being under-medicated lol. We'll alternate MRIs and doctors appointments too. Hopefully nothing happens to one of us medically that makes our records inconsistent; if that happened I guess the affected one gets to keep going to that doctor

When it comes to social engagements, I think we'd have to take turns. I think I'm probably kind of dull sometimes and annoying at other times, so I wouldn't want to subject my friends to two of me at once. Not to mention that a lot of things cost money, and it's not always in my budget to pay double for stuff.

I guess we'd have to come up with some system of deciding whose turn it is for things. Coin flips, random number generators, tests of skill? Not only for events and stuff, but also for stuff like who gets to keep the cell phone and who has to buy another one. Who gets to keep the Tumblr account and who has to make a new one? I wouldn't mind y'all knowing, but sharing an account would probably get confusing and people might confuse us for a DID system (which to be clear isn't a bad thing, it just wouldn't be accurate)

Big decisions would have to be up for discussion. Are we applying for a new job? Are we trading the car in? Where should we move to? I imagine it would be kind of like being married, but to a more controlling extent than I think would be healthy in a marriage. We'd need to agree on tattoos, piercings, haircuts, hair dye...

Oh, we'd also have to start discussing our days and try to keep records so we can keep things straight

Actually, it might just be easier to buy a fake identity off the dark web or something. This is complicated

Thanks for the fascinating question to ponder!!

[baconpncakes]

Amber Lives AU - Part 2

(read part 1)

Amber survived the bus crash! House found a way to save her but still feels responsible for her injuries, so Wilson and Cuddy guilt him into helping her get back on her feet.

Please accept the following vignettes of silliness and genuine human connection between characters who deserve it. Also lesbianism.

~

House comes into Amber's room to check on her while his team runs tests.

Amber: "What's wrong with your patient?" House: "Well, she's got a case of terminal bitchiness." She rolls her eyes. A: "Your other patient." H: "My team has a case. I am playing babysitter." A: "C'mon, House. I have a concussion. I can't work. I can't read for extended periods of time and I'm banned from screens. I know you're as bored in here as I am." H: "...Patient is thirty-five years old. Presenting with-"

~

Amber: “I don't blame you, you know.” House: "....." A: "It was my choice to go pick you up. My choice to follow you onto the bus after you told me not to." H: "...." A: "You weren't driving that truck, House."

~

House: “You’re moping. What’s the matter?” Amber: “I’m not moping. I’m bored.” H: “Bored in a hospital? And you call yourself a doctor. I’d have you do my clinic hours if I thought we could get away with it.” A: “I would love to see Cuddy hunt you down after finding me down there.” H: “But seriously. What’s the mood about?” A: “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you care.” H: “You’re acting weird. I’m curious.” A: “Can’t figure it out on your own?” H: “Probably could. But your life is terrible for a lot of reasons right now and I don’t really feel like narrowing it down.” A: “...I haven’t had any visitors.” H: “What are you talking about? The team came.” A: “Out of pity! Because they'd feel bad if they didn't come. Nobody here likes me and that's fine. I don't need them to." H: “......”

~

House sits by Amber's bedside, brow furrowed, chin and hands resting on his cane, deep in thought. He’s looking at Amber’s leg, as if he can see her stitches through the sheet.

Amber: "...My leg is going to be fine." House: "What?" A: "I know that's what you're worried about. You think that you've crippled me. You think you've ruined my life and turned me into you. Well, you haven't. Even if my leg never fully heals, it wouldn't ruin my life." H: "......Guess we aren't the same after all."

~

House is alone in his office, his mind is clearly worlds away. Cuddy enters.

Cuddy: "Are you okay?" House: "One patient is dying and I don't know why and the other one is a doctor, notoriously the greatest people to treat. I'm totally psyched. Can't you tell from my radiant smile?" C: "I know we said that you should help Amber-" H: "No. You guilted me into keeping her company." C: "-but that doesn't mean you need to spend all of your time here! For god's sake House you've barely left at all since she woke up." H: "I have two patients. You should be thrilled I'm spending so much time here." C: "I'm worried. You can't keep going like this House. You're still recovering." H: "The stimulation didn't do any damage. I'm fine." C: "House." He looks at her. C: "You were on that bus too." He keeps looking. She repeats herself, softer this time. C: "Are you okay?" He looks away.

~

House sits down at Wilson’s lunch table.

House: "Does Amber have any friends other than you?" Wilson: "Are you doing that thing where you confuse yourself with Amber? I have to say it's getting old. Don't you have any new material?" H: "I'm not kidding." W: "Neither am I! The gag has run its course!"

~

Thirteen sits in Amber’s room, reading a book. Amber stares at her. There’s no indication of how long this has been going on.

Amber: "Why are you here?" Thirteen: "I thought you could use some company." A: "Out of everyone here, you have the most right to hate me." 13: "Well I don't." A: "But you don't like me." 13: "You tried to make me question my sanity by taunting me with reminders of the patient I killed. To get a job.” A: "You won in the end. I got fired. You got to stay." 13: "So that makes it all go away? I won, you lost, so we'll call it a wash?" A: "I didn't say that! ...Like I said. You have every right to hate me." 13: "And like I said. I don't." A: “....” 13: “Besides, you’re the one who told House that you hated me.” A: “Spirit of competition. You should be flattered that I considered you worthy of my hate.” 13: “Of course, my mistake.”

~

House: "So. You tried to pick a fight with Thirteen." Amber: "She told you?" H: "Nope! But I know she was in here earlier. And after our conversation earlier it doesn’t seem like something you’d just let slide." Amber nods, relenting to his point. H: "You don't like pity. I get it. But if you think that’s what they’re doing, you’re wrong." A: "Please. Why else would they come here? You sure as hell didn't tell them to. And I'd like to think James is more subtle than that." H: "Obligation maybe. That's what it is for Taub and Foreman at least. For Kutner, I think it's genuine concern. For Thirteen? My guess is curiosity. Could be concern. Maybe even this empathy I've been hearing so much about." A: "Since when are people allowed to have pure motivations?" H: "...Did even half of those motivations sound pure to you?" Amber looks at him for a moment. A: "You are hellbent on showing me that it's not pity. You want me to think they're good people, because you believe that they are. You need me to think that they don't pity me and that they don't hate me, because if they don't hate me or pity me after all I've done then there's a chance they don't hate or pity you either."

~

H: "Wilson must be the worst boyfriend ever. Why am I spending more time in here than him these days."  A: "Very funny. He's just taking some space. He still visits, because of course he does, but I don't exactly blame him for not being here every second."  H: "What are you talking about? You almost died. Doesn't feel like Mr. Needy would want to be away from you after that."  A: "Oh shit. He hasn't told you."  H: "Hasn't told me what?"  A: "..." H: "Oh my god. You guys broke up."  A: "Yes."  H: "After all of this! You break up? What the hell happened?"  A: "Dying changes everything. I was dead, House. Legally, medically dead. And it made me realize some things. I love James and I always will. But he's not what I need."  H: "You really are a cutthroat bitch! Do you have any idea what he sacrificed for you?"  A: "I do. And I know how much that hurts you. Because it is you. And you are everything to him. He was willing to sacrifice everything for me! And even then I still didn't feel how I should!"  H: "What does that even mean!"  A: "Oh my god, House! I'm gay! I'm a lesbian! I can never love James as much as I should because he's not a woman!"  H: "...Give me a minute to process this before I start making jokes about the best relationship of Wilson's life being with a lesbian." A: "I should send a warning before you leave. Give him a chance to prepare himself.”

~

It’s late. House solved the case and his team started the treatment. House went to tell Wilson that his failed lesbian relationship solved the case and is now going to Amber’s room to tell her the same thing. Only when he enters, Thirteen is already there.

Unlike earlier, where she was in a seat a few feet from the bed, lounged back with a book in her hands, this time she’s sat right at the bedside, leaned forward, actually engaging with Amber.

H: “Didn’t realize you were double-booked.” 13: “Sorry, I was just updating Amber on the case.” H: “The case that I solved.” 13: “That’s debatable.”  H: “My epiphany.” 13: “That I had six hours ago before you dismissed it.”  H: “It was stupid six hours ago. If you really believed it, you would have defended it. Which you couldn’t.”  Both women roll their eyes. Amber addresses Thirteen. A: “As entertaining as this is, you better check on your patient.” House cuts Thirteen off before she can start talking. H: “Nope. Kutner is monitoring tonight. Thirteen is off the clock.”  Amber blinks in surprise and looks to Thirteen as if to confirm that House isn’t lying. Thirteen squints at the stupid grin on House’s face and then looks away and shrugs. 13: “Just wanted to drop by. But I probably should get going.” She turns to Amber. 13: “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe by then you’ll feel well enough and stay awake long enough to read something.” Thirteen picks up the book that she was reading earlier and places it on Amber’s bedside table. She gives her a small smile and leaves. House watches Amber watch Thirteen leave. Amber realizes that she’s being watched. She scoffs at House. A: “It’s like you think she’s the only bi woman in the world.” House nods at the book beside her. H: “People like you.”

[duskwoodgirl4life]

Once again a massive thank you to @ophiume for this amazing idea

Chapter 1

10 years ago an accident would change the life of MC, knowing that the people responsible for what happened still walked free. Would MC ever be able to turn her life around? Just maybe with the help from a police detective Jack Donfort.

Jennifer is 5 minutes older than her twin sister MC who she loves to remind her whenever possible. Jennifer and MC were busy getting ready for the pine glade festival. It was going to be an amazing weekend.

This time MC would be attending the festival alone as her sister was helping her dad out at the aurora her brother Samuel promised he would try and make it but his police work would take up most of the day.

When MC arrived at the festival she stood taking in all her surroundings, there were hotdog stands, cotton candy, souvenirs, games and music. MC went to get a drink and went to check out the live music she stood watching for a few minutes then decided to have a look round.

MC was having so much fun she looked at her watch noticing that it was time for the fireworks display. She started to make her way over to the other field walking along the edge of the road.

As she was walking out of nowhere a speeding car had lost control and crashed into her. MC went crashing to the ground hitting her head as she fell. The two women that had been driving the car panicked and buried MC in a shallow grave. Luckily a passerby heard MC's calls for help rushing over; he helped get the dirt off MC and called an ambulance.

The ambulance arrived and started treating MC for her injuries, when MC got to the hospital the doctors discovered that she had fractured her spine in 3 places, a fractured right pelvis and a fractured skull on the right side.

The doctors rushed MC to surgery where she would undergo many operations to fix the damage caused by the accident. The surgery was a success but MC was not out of the woods just yet. The next 24 hours would be the most crucial if she made it through the night then MC had a chance of walking up.

MC had been in a coma for 2 years when she started to wake up, Jennifer, Samuel,Michael and Iris, were all by her bedside. The doctors came over and ran some tests making sure MC was okay.

MC spent another few months in hospital going through physical therapy. It was a painful process but MC did it and she learned to walk again.

It was coming up to the 10th anniversary of MCs accident. For the most part she was doing okay but was still plagued by that night. She would wake up in the middle of the night from the same nightmare.

MC had gotten a job working at the aurora with her dad, it kept her busy and mind off the accident. One day her attention was captured by a tall dark haired man with ocean blue eyes.

MC: hi, what can I get for you?

Jake: I'll have a whiskey on the rocks

MC: Sure no problem, I've not seen you in here before?

Jake: I don't get to go out much with my job my name's Jake

MC: nice to meet you Jake, you can call MC

Jake: it's lovely to meet you MC

They both hit it off and became good friends although Jake had developed feelings for MC but didn't know how to say anything. MC had developed feelings for Jake but she kept pushing them away. The fear of having someone get close to her scared her so kept Jake at a distance.

Jake knew the story about what had happened that night to MC, he never pushed her to do anything she felt uncomfortable with which MC was so grateful for. Jake had started coming into the bar a lot more just so he could spend time with MC.

One night while he was sitting at the bar he watched her working, her long black hair flowing down her back touching her skin.

Jake's POV

I find myself coming into the bar every night just so I get to see MC, I sit watching her the way she moves, her smile is perfect she is perfection.

I would like to ask her out on a date but I do not want to push her, she's only told me a little bit about that night. I could look it up in her records but I decided not to. I want her to be able to tell me the full story in her own time.

I have not felt like this about anyone before. Is this what true love really feels like? Am I Jake Dunfort really falling in love?

[mbrainspaz]

remembering why I stopped going to the doctor years ago. So far it's gone like this: I went to a doctor someone recommended, they gave me the inhaler I needed at least (wish I could've just gone and bought myself the meds I knew I needed but nooooo), diagnosed another issue I needed help with, and referred me. The next doctor cost more money to tell me that the first doctor was right, but that I needed to see another doctor to confirm. That doctor said actually the last two doctors were wrong, but didn't have a clue what was actually going on. "Like idk maybe try CAT scans or something? Doctor no. 2 will call you back to follow up." Dr 2 has not called. Oh, and let's not forget the third doctor did a bunch of tests that hurt like hell and they had the nerve to interrogate me about 'why I was so down.' I hate it when doctors ask me that. I DUNNO BUB maybe I hate wasting all my time and money being processed like a slab of meat by scammy medical institutions that never actually help me?! Also I filled in your stupid form and admitted I had depression—what did you expect? They don't even read those damn things I swear. So now I've spent over $200 and wasted a total of about 10 hours running around town just to be exactly where I was before I talked to a doctor. It's so goddamn useless. Last time I spent $600 to get told I had bad knees and needed a surgery I couldn't afford. I already knew that! Now I've got another appointment this morning and I called the office (wasted 10 minutes just getting past the answering robot) to ask about the fasting the doctor told me to do for bloodwork—only to be told this wasn't an appointment for that. no no, this is just a 'follow up'. WHY?! So she can double check that I didn't die of an asthma attack in the meantime? I swear if I drive through houston traffic for 2 hours and pay another $25 just for this person to ask me how I've been breathing lately I'm done. I'm done. I'm dropping the whole thing. I'm just gonna accept that it's my lot in life to live like a 14th century peasant and hope I die of natural causes. I'll find some leeches in the creek and take some weird herbs and hope for the best. I don't even know what's going on with the insurance company because they emailed me asking me to pay another $25 copay for an appointment I already paid $50 for in person, so now I've gotta waste time and precious energy calling them to make sure there wasn't a stupid mistake, and if they say there wasn't then I just have to accept the extortion. And I've gotta keep signing all the stupid forms every time saying I'll pay I'll pay I'll pay. For WHAT? If I can never get actual medical care that fixes or alleviates the problems I'm dealing with what the hell am I paying for?! If I went to any other business and paid for a service and they failed to provide it I could demand to have my money back! But these hacks get to be like "well if you don't want to sign over your entire bank account enjoy your free human right to suffer and die lol." My elbow hurts like hell from writing this and half my hand is numb but the gods only know why. Anyway, here I go, off to spend another 2 hours and at least $25 but probably more than that on some more bullshit.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

well I've had an interesting first week of the year back at work. I managed to get through to my usual doctor this week, which is a bit of a miracle, considering she's always back late jan/early feb each year. she's recommended 3 places for me to ring to follow up on a probable ADHD diagnosis. the best one is one in Sydney, in Bondi.

but to do all of their tests would mean I'd try to jam them into a week, if I could (probs not let's be real), or each time I do one I spend on a hotel room to stay up there, since I just wouldn't feel bothered to the 2 hour drive home after 8 hours of tests. but the Sydney one gives you a brain scan which would be super cool. but also if you managed to get bulk billed, it's $1,200. also they don't focus on meds, they focus on "brain based" and behaviour change stuff.

the other 2 places are local to my area, but you have to ring to find out their prices. but on the other hand, my doc said to leave all this stiff until after I have my colonoscopy that's booked for a couple weeks from now, on the 16th.

work is better since I'm not at a tired low point like I was at the end of last year. my boss is a bit happier that I'm turning up at the office at around 8:50 roughly and set up by 9. but yeah I hate having to cut my pre work bed relax after my bath each morning to 7:15 to get out the door by 8;20. but rn 8:20 is only working bc it's the school holidays so I'm not locked into the mronjng school run traffic and school zones right next to my house (basically). so it means I will have to bother to leave at 8:15 or whatever when school starts back up again on jan 31st.

but yeah. I still haven't handed in any of my unfinished (or unstarted) cadestship assessments; bc I forgot right before we left of chrissy/NY break to ask our outsourced IT guys to set up our VPN access app (it just gives you a code to type in) on my phone to access the work hard drive at home lmao. so I've meant to start this week, but I just haven't.

aside from work, the other interesting thing is that someone from the catholic school I went to for years 7-10 from 2008 til 2011, decided to invite me to a 10 year reunion that someone else from our year group from that school set up on Tuesday on fb for October this year. and I was just so surprised that someone bothered to remember me and invite me.... and I feel kinda touched tbh lol. bc i didn't even graduate with them properly, in a way, in 2013, bc I obvs graduated at the public school that I transferred to. it's so random that someone thought to invite me all these years later.

and I'm also stressing over the event a little. mostly on the level of what to wear to it, obvs lmao. but also, most of these people are successful working in good jobs. or they run their own successful local businesses/take over their parentd businesses.

while, on the other hand. I finish my cadetship in march, and I have no idea whether i'll be kept on where I am or whether I'll be somewhere else or jobless lmao. but anyway. it's going to be so weird seeing anyone from that school again, when half of them have kids and are married now or some have even divorced or split from their partners that they married in our early 20s (or at least that's what I've deduced from their name changes on fb back to their original last name I knew them by in school).

also im bitterly jealous of a few of them because they've bought their first house or have a second house and are using their first as an investment property. like bruh. am I the only one who still hasn't moved out of home yet??? and obvs there are obvs other people renting but still. am i the only one still at home??? I don't want questions about that tbh.

like is it even worth catching up with these people, when I still remember the derision I got from one of the girls from my group from that school, when I ran into her at uni back in 2016??? how she told me that everyone was actually SO GLAD that I'd left bc apparently they were all secretly harbouring embarrassment for my behaviour and my "attention seeking" or whatever the fuck she said to me???? but also part of me hopes that rich boy goes and is happy to see me and I'll get to congratulate him in person on his engagement or perhaps being married by the time this event happens (if it even does lmao). and that's my other thing. could just be an elaborate joke where they do this, and I turn up, but NO ONE is there???? like hello trust issues, aren't you looking very sexy this week.

[regular-lord-reckoner]

since i have started this whole therapy/unmasking thing i have had the worst time getting myself to focus on work and get done what i need to get done

it’s like a switch has flipped and one minute all i ever do is work and try to get caught up on work and stay on top of everything to where now i just had to finish up what i didn’t get done during the week because i just...could not

i even the other day tried to set aside the first half of my day just so i could focus on work and get all the important stuff done, but by the time i finished all the work from yesterday that absolutely needed to be done plus the work for the next day it was almost 2 in the afternoon

still, i stopped and took a break, did a little work out, took a shower, all of that and naturally as i’m like, “see, now we can just take the rest of the day nice and easy and still get everything done without stressing” i see an email that’s like, “oh, btw everyone needs to be logged off by 6:45 pm today, IT needs to do something”

so then i had to scramble to get shit done instead of being able to take my time and ended up getting all stressed out again anyway

i’ve heard a lot of people say that while going through this process they take time off work for a while and i really wish that i could, but i just don’t know how, i already have to be a week ahead on all my charts just to take a week off, i can’t imagine how much work i’d have to do to take two weeks off or even a month

my last vacation was spent being so sick i could barely even walk so i really, really, really could use some kind of break i just feel like i haven’t even had a second to stop and think about it

and on top of that, i think my dad’s getting sicker

one of his doctors is really concerned about his test results lately and wants him to make these urgent appointments with his other doctors for next week so i guess we’ll see what comes of that, i’m hoping it doesn’t end up being, “yeah, so the cancer’s starting to win now, sorry” but we were already playing with borrowed time as is, i guess so i’m just mentally trying to prepare for that

and while all of this is just...happening, yesterday i’m sitting outside trying to enjoy a little sliver of free time, turn my brain off and just not have to think about anything, i hear my parents calling for the dog

and normally that’s not too unusual, sometimes when he’s outside he’ll run a little too far and they have to yell for him to come back, but he always does

this time, though, they just keep calling and calling and calling so i go downstairs to see what’s up and he’s missing. the dog is missing.

i’m trying to ask like, “where did he go missing, did you see him run off? front yard or backyard?” but nobody knows, he just took off while they were outside apparently 

so...awesome.

my mom’s been drinking and my dad’s too tired so i have to get in my car and drive up and down the road looking for him.

i’ve got my windows rolled down, squeaky toy out the window calling his name and trying to lure him to me to no avail

i go back to the house and we spend some more time yelling for him and walking all around the property for him, but nothing

we finally go back inside and something tells me to just check his crate. seems like a long shot, but just check it

so i do and you’ll never fucking believe what i found in there!!!

the dog!!!

the dog we just spent well over an hour looking for!!!!

the dog who was there the entire time just snug in his bed, all settled in for the night

i’m not sure who put him to bed, my dad swears up and down that he didn’t, but my mom clearly had no recognition of having done it, but someone did because i know it wasn’t me and he can’t get himself in there and close it on his own soooooooooooooooooooo

i think she probably did it and with everything going on (plus drinking, of course) she didn’t remember and as much as i’m sure i should be like...i dunno, mad about it or at the very least frustrated i just feel tired

i feel really, really, really fucking tired

everything is so fucking exhausting all the time and nothing ever stops and i just want it to fucking stop

i’m trying to basically re-learn myself and what my limits are for just existing which is so fucking hard because i feel like i don’t know anything anymore

but i think the cherry that really is sitting on top of this bitch ice cream sundae, though, is that i had made a post on facebook a week or so ago, i think, basically just like, ‘hey, i’m autistic’ and this guy i went to high school with messaged me because he just found out too a couple of years ago so did i want to be friends and i was like, “yeah, of course!”

how nice, y’know, someone who’s just been through this process sorta offering a helping hand and i’ve isolated myself pretty badly so sure, let’s make a friend!!

now, maybe i’m being unfair here because i’m clearly going through a lot but i just get the impression that this is exactly like every other time i get randomly approached by some guy i went to school with where it’s like, “hey, i’m having a tough time but you’re a woman so can you take care of me??’

because he keeps dropping all these hints like yeah, he used to have a girlfriend who was really good about helping him understand all this stuff and yeah, it’s just been kinda hard lately and now he’s just sending me videos of what i’m guessing is his kid and i’ve just completely tapped out at this point

again, maybe i’m being unfair and even outright mean, but it really does seem like every single time i’m going through something hard in my life here comes some fucking guy holding emotional baggage in one hand and a baby in the other going, “Hey, do you want to listen to me talk about myself at great lengths while skimming over the things you say and can you also take care of me? Thanks!!”

No!!!!!! I can’t!!!!!!

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can barely take care of me anymore and still have so much other shit on my plate and i have no idea when i’ll ever get a break from any of this, please stop!!!!!!!

i want connection with other people and i know that’s important and i know i should be trying to foster it as much as i possibly can whenever given the chance but i just feel right now like i’m curled into a ball on the floor screaming, “please stop!!!” and yet there are all of these hand continuously reaching out at me and pulling at me and i don’t know what else i can possibly give, i feel so fucking empty

i want to be able to pour back into other people and be fun and generous and kind and all of those amazing things and i have tried to approach this whole thing with a big smile and optimism that does not naturally occur anywhere in my being because i thought maybe if everyone saw how i hard i was trying while trying to be a good sport about it all that maybe the universe would finally give me a fucking break but no!!!

my therapist gave me the warning this week that as i continue on through this process that it’s likely going to get harder simply because the more relaxed and at peace i feel, the more my mind is going to want to go, “okay, hey so now that we’re in a safe place i have some things i’d like to go over with you”

we even discussed what potential sleep meds i might need to go on because of sleep terrors and shit like that, so like...i’m trying to be as brave as i possibly can be about it and put this shit off for the longest because i was so fucking scared of it and now that i’m finally doing it, it’s like, “hey, did you want more bad things? it seems like you want more bad things, is that right? and more responsibility? wait, did you want both or...y’know what, you can have both, how’s that?”

i hate it and i want it to stop

i just want a fucking break, that’s all i want

[all-about-china]

Chinese Education

China has educational hierarchy that starts with the basic education tear. It is law that all children go through basic education for at least 9 years. Basic education is composed of 3 years of pre-school starting at the age of 3. After that, there is primary education which is 6 years. The third part of basic education is called secondary education which is another 6 years. After the basic education, they are usually around the age of 18. But unlike an American high school, the secondary education portion is split into two possible routes. After 3 years of secondary, teens go into the last three years which are these listed two possible areas of focus. A test determines which route the students will go.

Route 1: Specialized technical school: 2-4 years of training for the field that one is placed in.

Route 2: Academic 'senior' secondary education: 3 more years of academic schooling. After this, students can either take a National Higher Education Entrance exam for higher education. If they choose to leave school, this is also another plausible exit point. If students continue on to higher education, they'll go to a college institution where they can get a four or five year degree. Pursuing more education after a baccalaureate program, one could go into a doctoral program or post-doctoral program.

Public schooling in China is free, however supplementary material that Chinese parents often seek aren't included with the schooling. The uniforms, extra curriculars, and tutoring is not included.

What does the typical school day look like for a Chinese student? They spend from around 7:30 am to 5:00 pm. They have a two-hour long lunch break each day. The school week is central to the work week, so Monday to Friday is spent in school. However, Saturday is spent with tutors or exam prep classes to prepare for the several entrance exams. Sunday is the rest day from the academics. Comparing American school system to the Chinese school system, China's is more rigorous. There is great societal and parental pressures on the child to do well on each college entrance exam. 

According to a 2022 world statistics study, there is 36 million university students in China, half doing a short-cycle education and half doing a four-year undergraduate degree. In 2022, there was 9 million students who graduated from public universities. Over half, around 51% of these students are female, which is similar to United States college and university proportions. When posing the question of who goes to college in terms of urban and rural areas, I've found that if a child lives and works on a farm, they're expected to continue on with the family farm.

-AL