#you are exhausted

[rockpapertheodore]

You are so exhausted.

It's your day off and the bag of trash by the door needs to go out. You've worked seven days in a row because of the variable weekly schedules lining up badly. Two shifts in a row became doubles because of a nocallnoshow new hire on their fourth day. The trash needs to go out to the road tonight. Your step tracker shows you've walked 47 miles over the past week.

You are so exhausted.

There's a second bag of trash now. You only had a morning shift today, which left an entire afternoon to almost have fun with your friends online. None were on when you got home, so you fell into a hole watching weird niche interest videos and doomscrolling while waiting for someone to get on. You realize what time it is, and persuade yourself to take the trash out to the road with the promise of getting high. You forget that trash pickup was this morning.

You are so exhausted.

The trash never made it to the door. It's piling over the edge of the can. You could at least take the bin out to the road, since it has last week's trash still in it. You'll do it in the morning.

You are so exhausted.

There is a big contractor bag the size of an ottoman in front of the door so you can't forget it when you go out in the morning. You should empty the still-overflowing trash in the kitchen. You do neither of these things because

You are so exhausted.

it's 11:09 when you get home. You're very tired of spending almost two hours of your day driving to and from work. You forget to take the three stuffed fast food bags out of your car. One of them is soaked with the dregs of the latte you never finished. You step around the big contractor bag the size of an ottoman and hop on your computer just in time to catch your friends before they turn in for the night. The kitchen trash spilled onto the floor, so you scooped it up and changed the bag. You set the full bag and two knotted plastic shopping sacks on top of the big contractor bag the size of an ottoman so you can't ignore it when you go out in the morning. You tell yourself that you have got to remember to take the bin out to the road by tomorrow night, so you'll get the doorway trash out to the bin in the morning.

You are so exhausted.

You mop the floors. The sun was so bright today. The doorway is clear and the bin is empty. You chuckle to yourself as if to say "aw, you," affectionately when you realize you forgot to empty the clutter out of your car. There are two knotted shopping bags, a ripped up pizza box, three empty sports drinks, and five stuffed fast food bags. Two of them are soaked with the dregs of the latte you never finished.

You are so exhausted.

You had to apologize to your coworkers for the spoiled milk smell. You had thrown the fast food bags out at the gas station, and the dregs of the latte you never finished splattered you. There is still the ripped up pizza box and two knotted shopping bags, but you brought the empty sports drinks in to use as water bottles on-shift. They were useful. The trashcan in the kitchen is empty because all the trash that should be in it is on the counter where you felt comfortable lying to yourself about not forgetting to take care of it. You spilled a can of soda that was still half-full next to your computer desk. You haven't drank pop in three months, and it's been five since it was from a can, probably. You stamp some paper towels into the sludgy puddle.

You are so exhausted.

The trash is on the floor. You pick up the sludgy paper towels, soaked with the can of soda that was still half-full next to your computer desk. You walk over to the trash can in a daze, fully dissociated from the trash you're stepping over. You feel so hollow. You don't cry yourself to sleep, but your eyes have been strangely wet since you got home.

You are so exhausted.

You are so exhausted.

The trash is bagged in front of the door. Most of the trash on the counter where you felt comfortable lying to yourself about not forgetting to take care of it is still there. The trash can in the kitchen is overflowing.

You are so exhausted.

You will remember it this time for sure. The bin outside can't be closed and was too awkward to roll at the moment, so you at least put the overflow bags next to the road so that you could go in and grab the rest before you had to move the bin to the road. You sit in front of the computer and watch a funny video. You realize it would have been a better idea to move the bin first so that you could use it as scaffolding for the five bags sitting next to you. The trash on the counter where you felt comfortable lying to yourself about not forgetting to take care of it has doubled. There are only three trash bags next to your computer desk. Your room feels claustrophobic because you can only walk from the bed to the door in one clear path. You've been complaining to yourself for the past two months that you've gotta take the little can out of the bathroom because it's stuffed full of wads of hair and damp cardboard tubes and your new electric toothbrush you accidentally knocked off the counter and broke the second time you used it. You haven't had a clean dish in months. You rewash one chopstick and pull a new partner for it out of the pack. You are very high and your homemade stirfry is tasty. You don't care that you're serving it to yourself on half of a takeout box that you put a sheet of foil over.

You are so exhausted.

You hear the trash on the counter where you felt comfortable lying to yourself about not forgetting to take care of it fall to the floor. It sounds angry, but muffled by the walls of your room that feels claustrophobic because you can only walk from the bed to the door in one clear path. You have to be up in the morning. You don’t work until tomorrow afternoon, but you have to be up. 

You are so exhausted.

There are two foil-covered box halves next to your computer, decorated with the rest of your disposable chopsticks. They are stained with use and reuse. You bought two plastic bowls from the dollar store so you could have some soup. They're both dirty under the takeout boxes, the one spoon you clean sometimes crusted and stuck to the bottom by bits and sludge. Your teeth have been clenching from stress at work. You need a raise.

You are so exhausted.

You wake up ready to go to sleep. You get in the car, throwing a fallen stuffed takeout bag into the crowded passenger seat to join the torn pizza box and five knotted shopping bags. You don't drink lattes anymore. Your seat is tacky. You're fifteen minutes early to being early to work, and reward yourself with sending a few messages to your friends before you have to clock in. You watch part of an interesting video before you realize with a start that you have to get out of the car. Your coworker makes a joke about your passenger seat, that the trash might kill you. If your coworker asked you if you were serious when you said, in a funny voice, that you hoped it would, you don't know if you'd know the answer. You're afraid that you do know the answer, though.

You are so exhausted.

You are so exhausted.

The bin needs to go to the road. The trash needs to go to the bin. The carpet in front of the passenger seat is stained. There is so much stuff shoved into the back seat, none of it trash. You wipe the seats down with disposable car wipes. You should go across the street and use the vacuum at the carwash to clean up the crumbs.

You are so exhausted.

The forgotten counter trash is growing. It looms out of the corner of your eye, and your brain can not see it. Will not see it. The kitchen trash is almost full.

You are so exhausted.

You don't want to try to get on the computer. You just get high in your room that feels claustrophobic because you can only walk from the bed to the door in one clear path, doomscrolling on your phone. You don't feel like going out that night. You've got two days off in a row. You deserve to relax so you can get some stuff done.

You are exhausted.

The trash is forgotten.

You are exhausted.

You are exhausted.

You are exhausted.

Your room feels claustrophobic because the trash that had once been on the counter that you felt comfortable lying to yourself about not forgetting to take care of it has taken over the one clear path from the bed to the door. You pick through carefully. Your passenger seat is empty, but the carpet in front of the passenger seat is stained. There is so much stuff shoved into the back seat. You have a great day at work.

You are exhausted. When the forgotten trash begins to pile itself into memories, you can't even cry.

You are exhausted. When the memories begin to wail and sob as they are then dragged under, back into the trash and drowned, you cannot bring your hand up to feign reaching out.

You are exhausted. When the forgotten trash reaches out to pull you under, too, you cannot bring yourself to struggle or thrash. You cannot fight.

You are exhausted, and you can finally allow yourself to find some rest.

[captainjonnitkessler]

>Join a union

>Hear people constantly complaining that the current union leadership is super corrupt, it's all just the same ten guys making all the decisions in secret and nobody else in the union ever gets to know what's going on

>Go to the monthly union meetings that are completely open to all 1200 union members

>The only attendees are the same ten guys every month, giving detailed reports about everything that's going on

[mayhemchicken-artblog]

in the hour or so it took me to draw this op turned reblogs off

EDIT: reblogs are STAYING OFF. op was right and correct and i have never regretted making a post as much as this one. if you want to reblog my art you can reblog something else from my blog. or commission me, lord knows i deserve financial compensation for the nightmare this post has put me through

[cat-in-a-mech-suit]

Being forcefully raised as a woman is not any less traumatic and emotionally repressive as being forcefully raised as a man. Femininity is not inherently pure and safe. Coercing someone to perform femininity is not any less toxic than coerced masculinity. Being dysphoric around femininity or having trauma from women doesn’t make you a misogynist.

[martyrbat]

i dont know who needs to hear this but you do not need to go on a diet. you do not need to lose weight as a new year revolution. you do not need to feel shame for gaining any weight over the holidays and for enjoying yourself and the food. you do not need to tolerate diet talk after setting a boundary and if someone cant respect that then theyre being the asshole. you already have a summer body. you already are hot. theres no moral failure or shame in being fat

[mag200]

hate the phrase “it costs nothing to be kind” or any variation thereof cause im not gonna lie to you guys. sometimes it costs quite a lot. i’ll pay it most of the time but christ alive.

[tired-and-swaggy]

[callisteios]

Would you like to find out what you would be the god of? Take my new uqiz to find out

[inkpotsprite]

It's things like this that make me love him.

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[girlboyburger]

[bixels]

In the past, people in the Animal Crossing community would make fun of Tom Nook as a sleazy landlord. Since then, he's really rehabilitated his image as this 'heart of gold' businessman (he's the one who puts bells and furniture in trees for you to find! he adopted orphans! he donates to charity!), but New Horizons genuinely paints the most devious version of him.

He's successfully privatized settler colonialism: you pay HIM to move to a "deserted island" (which apparently the oceans in the AC world are just full of) and start a colony that he is directly invested in. At best he's running a weird vacation package scam (you arrive on the island with no money and in debt for "using his services"). At worst, he's using you to set up company towns. For god's sake, he literally has his own fake currency that he forces you to use to pay off your debt. But don't worry, he's repackaged it in a way that definitely doesn't sound like an MLM scam: the Nook Mileage Program!

You're no longer just his tenant or his temporary part-timer, you're his business lackey. The entire tutorial section of the game has you spending actual weeks running around completing tasks and doing hard labor to set up his colony. You're even tasked with preparing his properties and finding buyers for them. No, you aren't a tenant anymore. You work for the landlord. You are directly responsible for finding tenants for him. And he doesn't even fucking pay you. Not for setting up town hall and museum, or his nephew's shop –– which is the ONLY store on the entire island that sells necessities –– or bringing KK Slider to town, or helping populate his town. Not a single cent. No, actually, you have to pay HIM to BUY infrastructure like bridges and stairs and park benches. And all the while, he's telling you're the "resident representative"; you get to call the shots! That the reward is the community's progress. That what you're doing is in everyone's best interest (but most importantly, his).

Since NH's release, people have done a lot of legwork to say that Tom Nook isn't a capitalist while the game shows him at his very worst. He owns the only general store in town. You're forced to use a phone that he modified and branded as his own. Buy Nook-branded furniture and merchandise at the self-serve kiosk in the town hall, a governmental building! There's no conflict of interest here!

But hey, if you're tired of being the landlord/business mogul's goon, you can also find work as a deluxe resort home designer for a company that also pays you in their special company currency that can only be used to buy their products instead of a real salary! Because that's what the Animal Crossing franchise needs! More vacation homes!!!

[ms-demeanor]

I don't care about data scraping from ao3 (or tbh from anywhere) because it's fair use to take preexisting works and transform them (including by using them to train an LLM), which is the entire legal basis of how the OTW functions.

[cametotheshowinsd]

TAYLOR SWIFT: THE ERAS TOUR (2023)

[wuntrum]

2025 horror pin up calendar!!

print version | digital (/print it yourself) version

a labor of love, truly <3 prepare for the new year with 12 suggestive (and silly) horror characters :) featuring characters from: american psycho, bride of re-animator, the evil dead, hannibal, jason x, frankenhooker, alien, an american werewolf in london, jennifer's body, saw, the thing, and scream! to see the full specs of the calendar, check out the pages above!

[littlesy]

[🗣️] Shoutout . . .

Shoutout to my Exhausted Littles and Caregivers.

to the little ones who didn't get out of bed today.

To the Caregivers who haven't had the energy to care-give!

To the Caregivers/Littles who barely ate or are only now getting something. Im proud of you

To the littles who don't have the energy to regress

To the Caregivers who Simply Existed today

To the littles who are trying their bests.

To the caregivers doing the best they can.

I see you, and i'm proud of you. Its okay to have off days, Its okay to have unproductive weeks. You'll get back into it in no time, just rest for now, take care of yourselves. - Syris <3