didn't know you were a dorm warrior cheye, how' was 'd you like the experience of living away from home?
(general) unfortunately i didnt have a cawr then, and also the kitchen was communal (and had the washer and dryer units in it) so I tried to avoid being spotted in there due to the Embarrassment and Shame of being alive, so it was really not too different than living at home where my room is my entire world...just a bit more quiet and peaceful loafing.
(specific) the college i attended is surrounded by water so was nice to walk around the few times I did. I saw Raccoon in person for the first time in my life ^_^ and many smunks and osprey, pelican my best friend pelican
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People joke about ADHD all the time, even swear up and down they totally think they also have it, but then if you ask for an accommodation, to please please please provide things in fucking writing, EXACTLY what they want and need, you will even work it out WITH them, like they promised they would do — repeatedly over and over, and then you don't get it people really will fucking be like:
I am using the incorrect bathroom (TM) to place my shelving and store my things. Homegirl literally removed various sundries and toiletries from a CLOSED CABINET and SHELF because she's interested in boundaries and accountability for my mess.
I said months ago I wanted to improve things for her comfort level and needed a written list of what precisely that fucking looked like in order to achieve it and not miss anything she deemed important. I explained how ADHD works, why I needed a written reference. Why I had to have it laid out, and if something needed changing we needed to write it all out. I would've made the list myself, but they said they would make it for the whole house to hold up their end of things. And, thinking this was a very reasonable adult solution to keeping the house in good shape, I said okay, come up with the list of expectations and what is needed and that way we can update how we handle chores. Awesome. I will do that to uphold my end.
No list ever gets made or drafted or anything despite my bringing it up, knowing we need to do it, but I DO get berated for failing to meet expectations and boundaries that were never fucking provided or delivered and include "don't store toiletries in this particular bathroom because I don't like it."
I can't believe I am a goddamn adult who gets treated like an idiot child for expecting adult communication instead of snide ass passive aggressive bullshit and basic respect for my things.
Because when I fucking get home, my shelving has been removed and a cabinet emptied of my things and placed in the "correct" bathroom.
🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃
Oh shit she solved it, this doesn't look cluttered at all!
What a vast improvement to storing things in appropriate storage!
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Beloved Husk
Here I stand in her scorched remains.
This is not the first time, nor will it be the last, and her vacant body has acclimated to my presence.
No longer do her damp, wooly tissues squelch beneath my feet-
they have long since dried out, compressed into a single mass of dull, cotton-candy pink.
In some places, her flesh has completely burned away, leaving nothing behind but blackened, splintering bone. There is no ink in the world rich enough to match the soot that clings to her skeleton.
Sun rays filter through her blown, empty eye sockets, and the daylight is no less beautiful for its thoughtless transgression.
How dare you illuminate her suffering so callously! You have made her into a spectacle- a cadaver to be prodded and studied, rather than a soul to be mourned.
My cheeks are wet, but I can't be sure if it's from grief, or the ever-present haze of smoke. The cause doesn't matter- I am weeping all the same.
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searching for housing is so stressful and so is job-searching for your third gig and so is trying to get your laptop fixed and so is trying to perform well at your unstructured pt-time research job in hopes your professor will forgive you for being a failure and so is trying not to get consumed by the loneliness of it all... #clownery
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feeling uncooperative with the prompts in the meme. between cheech and old pat which one would survive a joint venture into a thrift store? and which of them would you convert into a minor league baseball player if you had a magic wand
God yeah I reblogged that list and then read the questions and was like...this list is wack lol. Anyway THANK YOU these questions are much more important and gets really into the Hearts and Minds of these men.
Who survives a joint venture to the thrift store: Old Pat. It's Old Pat. Man has looked 40 years old since he hit puberty and has just kept growing older. Old man is in his element with the real senior citizens. However it is very important to me to mention that they're going to a bespoke thrift store for like farm and cowboy shit. Cheech could handle normal thrifting. Cheech would be great at normal thrifting. But take him to a store where it's JUST vintage farming equipment and cowboy leather shit and that city boy is going to panic. Old Pat is having a blast looking at pieces of metal that clearly spark joy in his construction worker heart but make NO sense to Cheech, son of academics, WHL overager. Cheech agreed to come to the store to push the cart but now he is manfully deep breathing while Old Pat examines a metal thing with rings. Is it for horses? Is it for wearing? Is it a BDSM thing? Do you put it on a tractor? Cheech is scared. (It is literally just a beval bit.) These stores don't exist in the Bay Area but maybe they do in idk Manitoba or Michigan or whatever. Or Gilroy, where all our dreams come true.
Minor league baseball player: the thing is, we're on Sieloff Watch (KING. ANNOUNCE YOUR RETIREMENT OR SIGN SOMEWHERE BEFORE I THROW UP) and Cheech is having his hot girl summer. So I'm inclined to say Cheech, just bc I think he has a shot in hell of making it OUT of minor league baseball. Also he is handsome like a baseball player. He has the looks for it. Not that you have to be handsome to be a baseball player but it helps. Can you imagine that man in the humid outfield of some nameless town in the San Joaquin Valley, fighting for his life in the game, the top three buttons of his jersey are undone, his curls are wilting, the uhhhh idk Fresno Nightcrawlers, AA for some cursed af West Coast team, are down 9-7 in the 8th, when the skies open up and it starts pouring...the stands, already two-thirds empty on a Tuesday night clear, while the teams run for cover under the downpour. Nick stands in the outfield and tilts his head toward the sky, feeling, for a moment, relief and peace.
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I called him and asked why they based it off of my income whenever my rental assistance pays 3/4 of the rent.... I mentioned that they told me they take rental assistance & he said I still need to make 2.5x the total rent.... I told him that if someone made 2.5x the rent, then they wouldn't qualify for rental assistance, and he should just tell people he doesn't accept it instead of leading people on like that. He didn't like that.
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