#should put my laptop somewhere else. I have to put everything in my spreadsheet (or I'll never find anything again). but that means sitting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

businesssetupindubai4-blog · 5 years

Text

Essential IT Infrastructure for a Small Business Setup

If you're reading this, you are in the process of taking your business from an idea you've talked to a few people about to something to make some serious money from.

What I'll cover will give you all the essential knowledge to cover at least 5 employees. This setup will run and run, and when you finally hire an IT person, they'll be able to take over effortlessly (and possibly question whether they're really needed).

Laptops and Desktops

First you need to decide between a desktop and a laptop. I would strongly advise on a laptop, as this gives you the portability you might need, and you don't have to plug anything aside from the charger in. Simple and straightforward.

Internet Connection

The first thing you'll need to make your system work is an internet connection. It can be through a mobile, cable, or ADSL. All are great, when used appropriately, but you need to choose one to start with.

For any office of ten or less people, you will be very comfortable with an ADSL connection from whoever the cheapest and best reviewed provider in your area is. You'll want to ask for a static IP when you set it up, and be adamant that you need one. Right now, it's not important, but it might be down the line and it'll save you time later on. Some services will charge a little more for this, so I suggest shopping around.

In terms of speed, the speed that's quoted on advertisements (for example 20Mb) is how fast you can get stuff from the Internet, and is mainly what we're concerned with at this point. Uploading will generally be a much smaller number, perhaps 512kbps, but generally the amount of traffic you'll be sending back to the internet is minimal.

You should look for bandwidth caps: some service providers will either restrict your speed, or cut off your connection all together when you've downloaded too many files from the Internet. This is less common now, but important to ask about.

Email, Calendaring, and Contacts

A lot has changed over the last six years, with the focus being to move away from having a mail server all of your own, to using one managed by someone else (also known as 'moving to the cloud').

There are only really two players in this field: Google, and Microsoft.

A lot of IT consultancies will push you towards a Microsoft Small Business Server, which whilst it can appear attractive is very expensive both up front, and in the long term when you move away from it. I cannot advise you enough to stay clear of this product.

If you're still stuck on the idea of Microsoft, most IT consultancies will be delighted to offer you a hosted Exchange server, but at its cheapest, this will be 100% more expensive than the next offering, which provides everything hosted Exchange does, and more.

The key innovator in this area has been Google: initially, they launched their incredibly popular Gmail product, which popularized the idea of threaded conversations and a lot of space for free. This, coupled with unobtrusive advertising and a clean interface took them to being probably the biggest provider of email today.

Office Suite and Note Taking

Office Suite

If you've opted for Google Apps, you've already got your office suite set up: it doesn't have every feature of either iWork or Microsoft Office, but it has so many that for free, there's very little point in going further initially. It has capability for word processing, spreadsheets, slideshows, drawings, and very neat data collection tables (useful for emailing a questionnaire, or posting one to a website).

But let's say you need more: you're trying to produce a very complex layout for a flyer, or you have a fiendish spreadsheet that Google Docs just can't quite handle. Microsoft has very carefully written its office suite for Macs, and it works very well. Apple has its competitor platform, iWork, which for an extra charge ties in very neatly with iWork on your iPhone or iPad if you get one. You can buy Microsoft Office for Mac (traditionally Microsoft awards odd years to Apple and even to Windows) from anywhere else that sells software, or you can buy iWork from the App Store on your Mac. The advantage of the App Store approach is that you'll have it installed and ready in a few minutes. For Pages, Numbers, and Keynote the total is £42, but each application is purchased individually for £13.99. Office for Mac runs to around £150 or so, and you'll need to use a DVD drive to install it.

Any files that you create should be saved somewhere that's backed up, for example your Dropbox (keep reading... ).

Note Taking

Note taking is useful. Synchronised note taking across Mac, Windows, iPhone, and Android a web browser-based client is even more useful. The chosen product in this category is Evernote, which for free gives you a generous account, and if you upload a photo (of a business card, for example) you can later find that picture by searching for text in it. You can share notebooks with other people, which is excellent for building a shared repository of information. These notebooks can also be shared to anyone on the Internet, although this is completely at your discretion.

Evernote will let you encrypt pieces of text, so it's very useful for saving passwords to. Select the text, right-click, and choose encrypt.

Evernote is also an excellent place to store your documentation.

Shared Storage

So now you have your Internet connection, your computer, and you're able to send people emails, you'll probably find you want a space to store your files.

My first recommendation for a startup will always be Dropbox. Dropbox is a small piece of software that runs on your computer, and watches a special folder, called Dropbox. It's available for Windows, Mac OS X, Linux, iPhone, Android and Windows Mobile. Every time you add a file to that folder, or make a change to it, that file or those changes are written back to the central Dropbox servers.

A free account will give you 2GB of space, and will keep any changes you make to a file for the last 30 days, turning it into your personal time machine for everything stored in there. If you delete a file you can restore it immediately.

Additionally, you can have a shared folder with someone, which means that the folder on your computer you've shared with them is a mirror image of the same folder on theirs. You can see when they're working on a file, and vice versa. As soon as they save changes, these changes are replicated across to your computer.

Finally, there is a special folder in your Dropbox, called Public. Anything you put in here can be shared with someone else by emailing them a link to the file. This is an excellent alternative to emailing large attachments, or using FTP servers (fantastic for artwork files, for example).

If you pay Dropbox, they'll give you more than 2GB, and instead of saving changes to your files for the last 30 days, they'll save them forever, which can be useful if you need to show a chain of work.

For a more serious, server-like approach to file serving, I suggest buying a Synology disk station. Synology make incredibly user-friendly self-contained servers that can hum quietly to themselves in the corner of a room without anyone noticing. They have support for something called RAID, which means that if a disk fails, you can just slide out the broken one and replace it with a new one. They have built-in virus scanning for peace-of-mind (although you do have to enable it), and can function as a web server if you ever need to.

Remember when you buy a Synology, you need to buy the hard drives separately: you don't have to buy enough to fill your device at once, but you do need to buy at least one to be able to use it business setup in dubai.

1 note · View note

birdiethebibliophile · 6 years

Text

{fic} That Old Sweet Feeling (part 14)

Fandom: The Adventure Zone: Commitment Rating: M Chapter Warnings: Dissociation, descriptions of graphic violence (no violence actually takes place) Relationship: Nadiya Jones/Mary Word Count: 1,862

Here on AO3. Read the rest: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tagging @someone-called-f1nch, @voidfishkid, @mellowstarscape, and @jumpboy-rembrandt!

I was going to split this chapter, but the first section was so short I decided to combine it. (This is one of those YOU REALLY MEAN SLOW BURN, HUH chapters. I’m sorry.)

Chapter Summary: Mary listens to the voices in her head. Nadiya blanks out. Remy finds a friend.

__________________

Mary's head was full of static.

"So it was deliberate," Nadiya said. She had the rigid, mouth-tight look on her face she did whenever she was upset and didn't want to show it. Mary'd seen that look a lot in the short time she'd known Nadiya. "Fucking Martine took my research and twisted it into - into mind control. Fuck. Fuck."

Remy nodded. "And we all have that stuff in us now," he said." He still sounded like he was going to cry, and kept wiping his nose with his sleeve. "The stimplants and the oxytocin and everything. And the bonds are what make our powers activate when we're near each other. And she did something to - to my mom and dad, and -"

"Breathe, Remy," Nadiya said sharply. "Don't be a coward. We'll figure this out. It's my tech she's using, I can figure out a way around it."

"We should make camp for a few hours," Kardala said, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. "You are in no state to move, l- Remy. We have not slept in a long time. I, as a god, have no need for human things like that, of course, but I may as well join you in order to... recharge."

"Just a couple hours," Remy said. "Then... we have to keep moving. Have to figure this out."

Nadiya nodded, sitting down against a wall. "Of course we do. And we will. Obviously."

Kardala sat down as well, immediately closing her eyes. "Sleep well. I expect you all to be at your peak condition in order to solve this problem. Kardala does not want to be controlled."

"Yeah. Okay." Remy closed his laptop and put it back in his bag. Then he leaned on Nadiya's shoulder, since it was just the right height to lean against. She frowned, but didn't move away, just closed her eyes.

No one noticed that Mary's eyes were still open.

It felt like there was a short in her brain, fizzing and spilling electrical sparks across its surface. She'd been right. She'd been right all along. It was a conspiracy. The government was in on it, and Martine, and Richard, and Addison and Flanagan had probably been in on it too, and Remy's parents, and Nadiya's research, and probably Irene somehow or other, and she couldn't trust anyone. Everyone wanted to hurt Space Cadet.

She'd been right about this. How many other things was she right about? They all want to hurt her. They'll abandon her at the first opportunity. They’ll turn her in to the government, or to Martine, and Martine will lock her up and never let her go. She'll be pumped full of chemicals until she can’t remember her own name, until her brain melts out her ears, until she claws her skin off screaming. They'll throw her in jail like they did her parents, put her in a cell all by herself and throw away the key. They'll get Addison and Flanagan back, force her to shut down the electronics again, kill millions of people. They'll use her until she breaks, and then she'll disappear, like Remy's parents did.

She had to get out of here.

In a haze, she stood, silently gathered her things. She had enough food to be okay for a little while. Nadiya had shown them the way out of the sewers. She'd leave, hide, something. Away from the others.

It's the only way, the static told her. You can't trust them. You can't trust anyone. You can't even trust your own mind.

It felt like a vice around her chest, her throat, her head. She fought back the seizure that threatened the edges of her consciousness. She couldn't deal with that now. She had to lean into the static and get the fuck out of here, it didn't matter where to. She took the flashlight as well - they had Kardala, she could use her magic lightning-y powers or something. Or Nadiya had a little flashlight on her key ring. There was a little light from the dim fluorescents overhead. They'd be fine.

She shone the flashlight down the tunnel and set off, silently, quickly, and without a backwards glance.

Nadiya jerked awake to Remy's panicked voice saying, "Mary? Mary? Oh, God -"

Nadiya was about to ask what was wrong, but as soon as she opened her eyes, it was obvious. It wasn't as much a problem with Mary as it was a problem without Mary. As in, she wasn't there at all.

"Shit." Nadiya's mind fed her fifteen different possible scenarios before she could even process what this meant. "Where is she?"

"I don't know," Remy said. His eyes were wide and panicked. "I woke up, and she was gone. No note, no - no nothing, she's gone." Nadiya could see him shaking.

"Let's – let's think this through," Nadiya said. "Looks like her stuff's gone. Plus, we're still here. She must've left on her own."

"Maybe, but what if Martine can use those bonds to control her and made her leave?" Remy clenched his hands into his hair at his temples.

"She would've done that before now," Nadiya said, trying to think logically. "Plus, Martine is locked up somewhere, remember? No, I think this is all Mary. We still have to find her, though."

"She could be anywhere," Remy said. He looked at his watch, took a sharp breath, and his hands moved to his face. "We've been asleep for hours. Hours and hours. You said it was only a few miles to the nearest exit. Or she could still be down here somewhere."

"She shouldn't -" Nadiya broke off. "Well, all we have to do is -" And stopped again. Mary hadn't left a trace. There was no telling where she could've gone. She couldn't make something out of nothing. She had to have evidence to draw a conclusion, and there was no evidence.

"I might be able to help," a soft voice said from behind her.

Both she and Remy jerked in surprise, and then Remy said "Irene!" and practically tackled her with a hug. "What are you doing here, there's still three of us, you shouldn't have -"

"Kardala let me out," Irene said in a strange voice. "She couldn't do anything to help find Mary, and she thought maybe I could."

Remy looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but Nadiya cut him off. "Can you?" she said, voice sharper than she meant it to be. Irene wasn't quite meeting her eyes, and she couldn't help remembering the last time they had talked.

"Yes," Irene said resolutely. "Remy, can I see the laptop, please?"

Remy hesitated, but passed it over. Irene opened it, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "This will depend on whether we can find a signal," she said, chewing on her lip. After a few minutes figuring out how the old laptop worked, she opened a spreadsheet and started typing things into it. Nadiya paced restlessly, resisting the urge to ask Irene if she really had to be that organized right now, if that was really her priority. Finally, Irene handed the laptop back to Remy. "There," she said. "Those are the names and information for everyone from the Fellowship. We need help, and information, and some of them probably knew Mary better than we do. I think we need to find someone. We can't do this on our own anymore."

Remy's face cleared slightly, and his fingers flew over the keyboard. "I have a signal - pretty faint, but there," he said. "Need to get this done fast so they don't notice..."

"We'll give you a little room," Irene said, and Remy nodded, clicking through pages already.

Reluctantly, Nadiya followed Irene a short distance away. The dim electric lights overhead barely illuminated her features, even a foot or two away as they were. Mary had taken the flashlight.

"Nadiya," Irene started, but Nadiya cut her off.

"I know," she snapped. "I was a jerk. I was mean. You needed to be pushed, we needed Kardala. I'm not sorry."

"You're right," Irene said. "We did need Kardala." She met Nadiya's eyes, held her gaze, and the brown of her irises seemed to catch Nadiya and hold her there in the dim light. "But now we need me."

Nadiya didn't know what to say to that. "Yeah," she finally said lamely. "We... you..." She closed her eyes, shutting out Irene's steady ones. "Thank you," she said stiffly.

"I understand your reservations about me, Nadiya Jones," Irene said, and Nadiya flinched a little – it felt like she was being scolded – "but we need to trust each other, and listen to each other, and that does not mean bullying or pushing your teammates until they do what you think is best. You need to consider the possibility that despite how smart you are, other people could have good points as well. We're in very real danger, and can't afford anything else. All right?"

"Okay," Nadiya mumbled. "Irene?"

"Yes?"

"It was a really good idea," Nadiya said. "Trying to find someone else from the Fellowship."

"Thank you." The set of Irene's shoulders relaxed. "Honestly, I don't know if it'll work, but it's a start, at least."

"Did you hear everything from last night? Before we fell asleep."

"I did, actually," Irene said.

"That's... different from before, isn't it?" Nadiya asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "You can remember things from when you were her. Or - from when you - how would you put it?"

"That's a good a way as any," Irene said with a shrug. "I had a talk with her. Maybe that helped."

Before Nadiya could ask what the hell that meant and how it worked, Remy shouted. "I think I found somebody!"

Both Nadiya and Irene immediately went over to him, looking over his shoulder. "Who?"

"Jamie," Remy said, and Nadiya recoiled. "Looks like she's renting an apartment by the month outside of LA under the name Michael Commons. I have an address. It's not far, and it's not out of the question that Mary could've gone towards LA, hitchhiked or something."

"Does it have to be Jamie?" Nadiya groaned. "She's pathetic. She's a jerk."

"She's the only one I could find info on," Remy said, shaking his head. "Everybody else must've completely covered their tracks. I'm gonna..." He opened a message to Mary Sage, using the frequency she'd used in Halleluland, and dropped the address into it. "I don't know if she'll pick up on that, but I hope so. that'd be the best case scenario. That, or we run into Mary as we're leaving, catch up with her or she decided to come back or something..."

"I don't –" Nadiya started, but then cut herself off. She didn't have a better plan. Mary Sage was gone, they were still being hunted down by god-knows-who, and they were running low on food.

"Fine," she sighed. "Let's go see Jamie." And then, because she was having a lot of feelings and didn't know what to do with any of them, she said "Fuck," rather vehemently.

It didn't make her feel better.

#taz #taz commitment #taz fanfiction #nadiya jones #irene baker #kardala #mary sage #space cadet #christopher rembrandt #remy #the adventure zone #the adventure zone commitment #taz: c #that old sweet feeling #tosf #mine #...im real sorry #but not as sorry as I'm GOING to be

5 notes · View notes

shamelessly4shameless-blog · 7 years

Text

The Sand In Your Shoe (pt.8)

Mandy hovers by the office door. It is half open and she can see her brother, head bowed over a neat stacks of cash from the nights takings. She is instantly transported back through the years, watching him count the crumpled bills from the latest drug deal or gun sale, the table cluttered and almost as dirty as most of the money. Now, as then, he has a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip and another, unlit, tucked behind his ear, ready to be lit off the butt of the first. He hates dealing with money and smokes the entire way through and if it takes longer than two cigarettes, he will take a break to get a beer.

However, unlike their home in South Side, Mickey’s table here doesn’t have guns or pot or beer cans scattered across it – though Mandy knows that all of those items are in the room somewhere – but it does have a basic old laptop and a ledger which is painstakingly filled in every night with Mickey’s scruffy penmanship.

Mandy smiles, remembering when she first arrived and money was stuffed in the rickety old desk draw, the notes folded in on themselves and unorganised, the figure for each day kept only in Mickey’s head or written on the back of his hand. She’d made him buy the laptop and taught him the couple of bits she had learned from Lip about setting it up and together, with a suitable amount of cursing and more than one instance of somebody storming out, they had learned how to make a basic spreadsheet to keep track of things. Mickey had bought the ledger himself because he didn’t completely trust the laptop, a fair choice as the thing was ancient and made awful noises if it was on for more than an hour or two.

Mandy has never felt so close to her brother as she has these last eighteen months. Out of all of them, she probably had been closest to Mickey growing up, but once he was seven or eight, their father stopped any attempt at them playing together. Mickey got sent off with the other boys, Mandy was told to stay out of the damn way and they became almost strangers, strangers who occasionally got into fights and slept in the same house.

She doesn’t want to tell him what she’s done. He might be disowned and dishonoured but he is still a South Side Milkovich and Mandy knows the code that they were raised with must be etched into his very bones, just as it is hers. But not telling him is worse and she owes him the truth.

“Mickey?”

“What?”

His voice is distracted and he doesn’t look up, just keeps thumbing through the cash and occasionally jotting numbers in the ledger.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Right fucking now?”

“No, sorry, it can wait.”

Something in her voice makes him look up, his eyes flicker to the heavy backpack at her feet and he huffs an impatient breath through his nose but puts the money down.

“You goin’ somewhere?”

“Maybe. I … Mickey, I’ve done something and you’re going to be REALLY fucking pissed when I tell you, but I have to tell you and when I do, if you want me to go, I’ll go.”

She twists her hands into the hem of her shirt and raises her eyes to the ceiling, determined not to cry. Milkovich’s don’t fucking cry.

“Well that’s a little fuckin’ dramatic.”

Mickey frowns and takes a deep pull on his cigarette, letting some of the smoke curl out of his nostrils before exhaling the rest in a quick breath.

“You wanna sit down or are you just gonna stand there and make us both feel fuckin’ awkward?”

Now that he has made up his mind to listen to her, Mickey wants to get on with it but Mandy finds herself frozen to the spot. Mickey doesn’t look anything like their father, maybe they’re built a little similar, stocky and broad chested, but he looks more like their mom, or what Mandy remembers of her anyway, but all the same she is suddenly scared.

“I’m fine here.”

“Fine, suit your fucking self. What’s going on Mandy?”

She makes herself untangle her fingers from her shirt and shifts her weight onto her other leg, trying to look at ease but failing miserably. Mickey absent-mindedly rubs his top lip and then rolls his neck, easing the tense set of his shoulders. He looks at her with a sort of weary readiness, like he is expecting her to tell him there is a guy she needs him to beat up or some other problem she wants him to fix. It almost breaks Mandy’s heart because no matter what else he might be; her brother has always tried to fix things for her, even when they were irreparably broken and now he is going to hate her.

“I told someone where you are.”

“You did fucking what?”

Mickey’s eyes fly open, whatever he was expecting it wasn’t this.

“Not exactly where you are just the state we’re in.”

Mandy forces herself to keep looking at him and now that the words are out she feels a little less sick despite the dawning look of horrified fury on her brothers face.

“Are you outta your fucking mind? Jesus Christ, Mandy! Who did you tell?”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have …”

“Damned fucking right you shouldn’t have! Who the fuck did you fucking tell?”

“Mickey, I’m really sorr…”

“Stop saying you’re fucking sorry!”

Mickey flies out of the chair and slams his hand down on the desk spilling a stack of cash onto the floor but neither of them even glance at it. He starts to move around the desk, intending to pull her in and shut the damned door to stop her bolting before she has told him exactly what fucking happened, but as he moves toward her, Mandy flinches. It is a small movement but it stops him cold and with a supreme effort, Mickey reins in his temper, drawing his bottom lip inwards and biting down hard.

She’s put everything in jeopardy. His freedom, his bar, all the work and the grafting, the years of effort it’s taken to get him to a semi-legit place! If anyone else had been so fucking reckless with his life …

But it is not anyone else.

It’s his baby sister and she is scared and although a dark little part of Mickey thinks she is fucking right to be scared, he can’t stand for her to flinch away from him like that.

Mickey holds up his hands and turns away from her, giving her a little breathing space, which is hard in the cramped little office.

“Would you please come inside and shut the fuckin’ door?”

“Why? There’s no one here but us.”

She is still wary but Mandy takes a couple of steps into the room and nudges the door mostly closed.

“Mandy, you’re my sister, I might be a complete asshole but I would never hurt you. Sit your ass down and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

He snatches the cigarette from behind his ear and lights it in a smoothly aggressive motion.

“You want one?”

“Yeah.”

Mandy nods and Mickey jerks his head to the packet on the desk

“Fuckin’ take one then. I ain’t your damn maid.”

Relief courses through Mandy and she fights back a smile as she scrabbles to get a smoke out of the packet. Mickey notices how badly her fingers are trembling and a little bit of the seathing anger in his chest dissipates. Just a fucking little bit though.

“I told Ian.”

Mandy says as soon as she has the cigarette lit. Mickey’s lip curls upward incredulously and he spreads his hands in front of his chest in a gesture of complete disbelief.

“Fuckin’ … Ian Gallagher?”

“Yeah. He messaged me on Facebook and we were talking a little. He told me you hadn’t called…”

The faint note of accusation in her voice earns her a piercing blue-eyed glare as Mickey points his cigarette at her like a knife.

“Whether I call someone or not is none of your fuckin’ business and what the fuck is he doin’ messaging you anyway?”

“He was probably looking for you. He said he missed you.”

Mandy shrugs and Mickey turns away, pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead and trying to think.

“I don’t give a shit if he was tryin’ to find fuckin’ Jesus Christ himself. He should fuckin’ know better than to contact you like that.”

His words are sharp and dismissive but Mickey is feeling a little calmer, he fucking shouldn’t be but he is. Of all the people Mandy could have blabbed to, Ian was probably the least disastrous. If it had been one of his brother’s or worse, their father, then he would probably have been fucked.

“So you told him you were with me?”

“Not in so many words. Kinda. I just said ‘Tamaulipas’.”

“What did he say back?”

“He said ‘Thank you’ then a little bit later, he said ‘Where?’ I didn’t reply.”

“Good. Don’t.”

Mickey nods and sits on the edge of his desk, staring silently into the middle distance. Mandy watches him until her cigarette is burnt down to the filter and then crushes it beneath her sneaker heel.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Nothing.”

Mickey shakes his head slowly as if waking up from a dream and Mandy desperately wants to throw her arms around his neck and hold him close, but she knows better. He might not have completely lost his shit but he’s wound up tight and she is most definitely on his shit-list.

“I think he’ll probably find us, if he tries. I mean, it’s spelt wrong but the name of the bar …”

“Yeah.”

Mickey cuts her off. He named it ‘Galager’s’ specifically so that if Ian had ever looked for him, really looked for him, he might find him.

It was a sort of private thing between them, the stupid tattoo that Mickey gave himself when he was doped up to his eyeballs on some shit that he’d managed to score in prison and it had been a crappy fucking attempt. He blamed it on the drugs, whatever the fuck they were but he had managed to spell it wrong. When he showed Ian, during that awful last visit, it had been the only thing to make him smile, the only thing that had brought even a little light to the red-heads eyes. Galager.

“Mickey?”

“What?”

His tone is harsher than he meant it to be and Mandy winces slightly but pushes on anyway

“Do you want me to leave? I know you don’t want me to say ‘sorry’ again…”

“No, I fuckin’ don’t! And I don’t want you to leave either.”

“Really?”

The word comes out a little breathless and Mickey hates that she is surprised that she can be forgiven but then forgiveness was not a word often heard in their house growing up. To forgive was weakness and a sign of being a faggot. Mickey snorts to himself and thinks: *Well Pops, guess fuckin’ what!*

“Yeah really. Don’t fuckin’ be so stupid again though. I don’t care who it is.”

“I won’t. I swear it was just … Mickey, you and Ian … You should …”

“Hey,”

He holds up a hand and shakes he head again, firmly this time

“Don’t fuckin’ push it. My business is my business Mandy. If I wanted to talk to Ian I would have called him my fuckin’ self.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I didn’t know what the fuck I would say.”

Mickey’s honesty surprises her a little but she tries not to let it show.

“Well, you know Ian. He’s like a dog with a fucking bone. You should probably try and think of something. Soon.”

She smiles a little and Mickey’s own lip quirks ever so slightly in response.

“Yeah.”

Mandy stands up and shoulders her bag, knowing she needs to leave him be but before she leaves the room, she quickly ducks down, sweeping her hair out of the way and kisses Mickey’s cheek.

“Thank you, big brother.”

Before he can say anything back, Mandy is out of the room, her footsteps pounding the stairs to her room.

Mickey touches the damp spot on his cheek and his nose twitches, an old tic that still surfaces when he is uncomfortable or embarrassed.

“You’re welcome.”

He mutters and bends down to pick up the bank notes he knocked on the floor, stacks the money as best he can on the desk. His eyes are stinging and he thinks he might cry. Mickey purses his lips and fights it back.

He looks at the stacks of money on the table and his lip twitches again. Then, promising himself it is just for tonight, Mickey pulls out his desk draw and sweeps the whole fucking lot into it and slams it shut. Ian did not fall in love with some weak little bitch and he sure as fuck ain’t gonna find one in Mexico.

“Fuck you, Gallagher.”

Mickey smiles. His body is tingling from the adrenaline and his skin feels tight but in a really fucking good way. He knows what he needs.

He leaves the office, heads into the deserted bar and crosses to the jukebox. Only one song will fucking do: DMX – X Gon’ Give It To Ya, Mickey slaps the button and the room is filled with the sound of dogs growling.

He pours himself a shot of whisky. He downs it in one and the shock of the alcohol makes him bare his teeth in a satisfied grimace. There is an old scaffold poll above the bar walkway and Mickey take a running jump at it, wrapping his fingers around the cold metal and hauling himself upwards. He hasn’t kept up his pull-up routine but his chin clears the bar and he lowers himself, biting his lip as his muscles strain against the fabric of his shirt.

He begins to sweat, salt rolling from his forehead, dripping from his chin and Mickey clenches his ass to give him the final boost he needs on his fifth pull. He does five more, determined to get to ten and drops down with a pleased grunt, dusting his hands off on his shirt. He pours another drink and realises that Mandy is watching him from the doorway.

“The fuck you looking at?”

He grins and she returns his smile, tucking her hair behind her ear and swaying into the room, pumping her hands in time with the song, bobbing and weaving toward her brother with pout.

“A fuckin’ gangsta apparently.”

Mickey lets out a small laugh before pushing his own lips out in what Mandy calls ‘duck-face’ and dipping low, bouncing lightly from left to right as his arms cross back and forth and then pumps them up to the ceiling.

He isn’t a natural dancer like Mandy is but what he lacks in grace Mickey makes up for in sheer fucking attitude and when Mandy presses her back flush to his front he surprises both of them by grinding down to the floor with her.

“Fuck yeah! You got some moves, man!”

Mandy claps and punches his shoulder in admiration

“Oh! Did you think you’re the only one with fuckin’ hips, bitch? Anything you can do ...”

Mickey’s eyebrows raise in challenge and Mandy holds an index finger up to his face.

“Watch this, fuckface.”

She shimmies over to the duke box and selects a song of her own. Do It Like A Dude – Jessie J. Mandy turns back and runs at Mickey, jumping and gripping the scaffold poll with her palms just before she reaches him.

“Oh yeah?”

Mickey lines up two more drinks and stands back to watch as Mandy pulls herself up, once, twice, three times …

“Think you’re the only one with guns, asshole?”

Mandy grunts and lets go with her left hand, for a moment she dangles and then her right arm begins to flex and she is lifting herself in a one armed pull up.

“The fuck?!”

Mickey’s mouth is hanging open in an awed ‘O’ of surprise. Mandy lets go and lands neatly, cocking her head at him, tongue poking between her teeth.

“God damn!”

Mickey mimes taking his hat off and claps as Mandy bows. She goes to take one of the shots and Mickey pushes both toward her

“Nah! Both of these are for you. You fuckin’ earned ‘em!”

Mandy’s arm is aching like a bitch and she really wants to roll her shoulder but she pushes the urge away, having her brother in absolute awe is so much sweeter.

“Wanna play pool, drink the Top Shelf stock and fuck ourselves up South Side style?”

She asks, leaning back against the bar. Mickey nods and pulls a crumpled joint out of his back pocket.

“Hell yes I do. Wrack ‘em up.”

They play pool, they drink and they dance. They let off steam and the celebrate being alive. They party together until the first red tendrils of dawn light creep through the windows and then Mandy fries up some bacon and they wander down to the shore, hammered and happy and eat quietly together as the gulls circle overhead.

In Chicago a plane takes off and many hopes and dreams soar upwards with it.

#mickey milkovich #Milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #mandy milkovich #Mickey and Mandy #Gallagher #shameless us #shameless fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

letsprayitwritesitself · 7 years

Text

groundhog dave part 6 afternoon four

9th January.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Like gravity was acting on them, forcing his eyelids down, yet when he indulged in a long blink, they burned. He made himself focus, squinting into his laptop screen and trying to figure out if the mysterious characters that he himself had written the night before were actually words.

Oh yeah I’ll wake up early and finish it in the morning, Jesus, when the fuck has that ever worked for anyone, God Davey.

He really wanted a cigarette. It was Friday morning, and he’d overslept. Kind of. If you could call making it to work at 7:15 oversleeping.

It was a budget proposal for a new feature he’d managed to dream up midway through a weekend. A dry, boring piece of documentation he had to present to his superiors before being able to paint the air with his gorgeous ideas and assurances of how the feature would better the show (make them more money.) But his boss, who he’d emailed with the idea that Sunday morning, had given him a deadline of first thing Monday, giving him less than a day to get it together.

Why couldn’t they just trust him and give him a blank cheque?

Like an idiot he had let himself sleep, as soon as the words on the page started to become meaningless literally as he wrote them, and woke in a panic after five hours, pulled his clothes on and ran to the station, where he slammed his laptop down on his desk and hurriedly tried to finish the damn thing.

So maybe when Sheila from casting had brought the new weatherman over, he hadn’t exactly... noticed. Not straight away, anyway. He was busy.

‘And Jack, this is David, he’s one of our roving producers! You’ll be with him on the Groundhog... David?’

‘Huh?’ He looked up and blinked.

‘This is Jack, the new weatherman. First day!’

He tried to think. Man standing in front of him. Sheila from casting. Report. Deadline. Fuck. Fucking work.

‘What?’

‘I’m Jack.’ Jack held out his hand. Davey glanced at it. He reached out and shook it, as he did so letting his eyes drift back to his laptop screen. Was that number right? That date?

‘Hey...’ He didn’t mean to be rude. But how could he meet someone new when he was clearly tied up in this? He had already forgotten this guy’s name. ‘It’s nice to...’ That figure was definitely wrong. Shit. ‘Sorry. This is.’ He meant to say a whole sentence but the rest fell away as he tried to locate his other spreadsheet, that little attention he’d spared utterly swept away. He didn’t see Jack bite his lip, raise his eyebrows and nod, and he didn’t see Sheila purse her lips and turn back to Jack.

‘Let’s get you introduced to make-up.’

Some time later, when the report was fired off, and he had the brain capacity to think about anything else, this encounter would dawn on him as a slightly embarrassing asshole move, but not one that he really had the time or inclination to fix. He couldn’t be too unhappy if he wasn’t best friends with everyone at the station, right? That wasn’t why he was there.

February 2nd. Time four. Continued.

On his way into the square he saw Spot and a brief flame of self-consciousness flared up. Spot had no idea that they had - because they technically hadn’t... But then Davey had definitely - Christ. It felt icky. Like he had no right to know what Spot looked like in the throes of passion, and yet, as he stared at him, that was all he could think of (obviously, and it got more difficult to push away the more he tried.) Spot glanced at him as he attempted to force his mind away, and they locked eyes. He was wearing his signature glare, so Davey looked away immediately. But then. He knew, or could infer, from the other night that Spot... liked him. In some conceivable way. So he looked back up. And it felt dumb, but he let a lazy smile cross his face, and nodded his head just barely. Spot’s glare softened. Flirting - check. Ish.

He crossed to the far corner of the square, and to Jack and Crutchie.

He felt like he could recite the ceremony word for word by now and resisted the urge to prove it, watching with a distant enthusiasm that was alien but not unwelcome. Right on cue after the broadcast snow started to fall.

‘It’s snowing!’ And he let himself be taken in just a little by Jack’s dazzling, childlike grin.

‘We weren’t expecting any snow, huh?’

‘Not ‘til tonight. Thought we’d be back before it started!’

‘You think we should get a move on, Dave?’ Crutchie eyed Davey as he crammed his camera back in its case.

‘I feel like by the time we get to the highway we’ll be stuck here, this snow feels serious. You know how long it’s meant to last, Jack?’

‘It’s hard to say. Could be a couple hours. Could be days.’

Helpful, was what Davey would have replied any other day. ‘I think we should wait it out. I don’t trust myself driving us three and this equipment in heavy snow, anyway. I’ve got the station’s credit card. Let’s get brunch.’

Diner. Fogged up windows. Steaming mugs of coffee. And a giant stack of pancakes with extra bacon, syrup, and several scoops of ice cream for Davey. Jack watched him tuck in, eyes wide.

‘Never woulda had you down as the type, Davey. You struck me as a black coffee, brown toast kinda producer.’

‘Treat yo self, right?’ Davey took a gulp of his third cup of coffee (this behaviour was not Groundhog Day induced, this part was just Davey.) ‘Like, sucks that we’re stranded here, but bright side: amazing pancakes.’ Jack stared, expression a mixture of nervous appraisal and admiration.

It struck Davey then that despite his feeling somewhat... closer didn’t feel like exactly the right word, but... closer to Jack after their two nights in the bar, to Jack he was still the same kind of asshole that had been in such a terrible mood the night they had arrived, as far as Jack was concerned, twelve hours previous. He had softened this a little, by admitting his assholeness and apologising, but there was only so much damage control that could be done in a morning. Plus whatever he did would be swept away by this weird fucking phenomenon. It felt nice to try, though. And if he thought about it long enough and wanted to feel a little humble, he might just say that Punx was the best place to recharge his batteries, get away from some of the pressures of Philly, and as such prove both to himself and others that he wasn’t actually a jerk.

But he wasn’t quite there yet.

‘You’re right.’ Jack sat back in his seat, leaning one arm across the back of the booth and wrapping his other hand round his coffee mug. ‘I’m glad you’re starting to warm to Punx. I gotta say I was a little antsy. The way you’ve been talking about this trip I expected this place to be, like, a big field with no hot water and a population of twelve.’

‘You mean you weren’t looking forward to it? Jack Kelly, eternal optimist?’ The sugar in his breakfast was starting to make him jittery, and that awareness that the day was bound to be erased gave him a little confidence in steering the conversation somewhere new.

‘It’s not that I wasn’t looking forward to it! Well. Okay. I wasn’t... But I’m the face on the screen, right? Had to pretend I was.’

‘So it’s an act?’ Wow, Davey. How to talk to your coworkers 101: resist psychoanalysis. But, he tried to remind himself, this conversation would be erased. It would disappear. Probably.

‘What’s an act?’

‘The whole... Chipper, happy weatherman thing?’

‘I mean - I really am a weatherman. That part’s not an act.’

‘Right.’

‘But - I don’t know! Like, if I’m not looking forward to something, does that give me the right to just walk around with a long face all the time?’

‘Is that what I do, then?’

‘No! Come on.’

Davey sat back in his chair. This was starting to feel like a segue into a conversation he had always wanted to have with someone, but had never been able to. A perfectly sensible question, one that everyone wondered but just seemed a little much to ask. He bit his lip. Go hard or go home. ‘What do you... think of me?’

Jack raised his eyebrows at the question and a jolt of anxiety burned in Davey’s stomach. This is going to get erased. And if not... you can always move.

‘What do I think of you?’

‘First impression. Most recent impression. Whatever. Be brutally honest.’

‘Brutally? Davey, I don’t know you. Not really.’

‘You must have some... thoughts.’ This was terrifying. Eschewing social norms was exhilarating in a way but mostly just fucking terrifying.

‘Can I ask why?’

‘No. Maybe later.’

‘Alright. Can I have amnesty for this? You won’t get offended?’

‘If I do, I’ll pretend I’m not.’

‘Right. So - alright.’ Jack leaned forward on the table and studied Davey. ‘You are very good at your job. I can tell. And I’ve seen pictures of you at the Christmas party, so I know that the person who it sometimes seems like you are isn’t necessarily... Okay. I get the... impression... that you think you’re too good for the role that you’re in.’ Davey started to regret asking but couldn’t push away his desperation for the answer. Jack continued. ‘And maybe you are too good! You probably are - but what have you done to show people that you can be a kick ass producer, other than complaining about it and expecting people to agree with you?’ He paused and sat back, picking at the label on his water bottle. ‘Not that that’s - this is only stuff I’ve thought about the past day or so. Like I say. I don’t really know you.’

The whole thing felt like a sucker punch - one he knew in the back of his mind he would be happy to have heard, but - god.

‘Oh boy.’

‘I’m sorry, Davey. You did ask...’

‘I know. Haha.’ He let out a long, shaky breath. ‘So how do-’ This would disappear. He could get away with baring his soul to Jack a little, putting his pride aside. ‘How do you do it? What makes Jack Kelly... Jack Kelly?’

‘Never really thought about it.’

‘I just - like. I get anxious.’ He sighed. ‘I’m anxious now. There’s a little stopper in my head keeping me from saying everything I want because I’m that nervous about the outcome.’

‘Then don’t be!’

‘Ah, right. Problem solved.’

‘Okay, that was dumb. But what are you actually afraid of?’

‘I guess... Getting laughed at. Or fired. Or just going off the other way, like, what if I let myself relax and do something really dumb and don’t realise, and everyone is laughing at me and I’m just that dense that I think everything’s fine?’

‘You have to not care what everyone thinks! You have to, like, reconfigure your head so you can devalue other peoples’ opinions - not to nothing, obviously, but to less. Right? Like, I’m on TV. I’m not famous but I’m there, any every morning after my forecast I get a dozen tweets from - yeah, ok, some old ladies who like seeing me, but there’s always a few people trying to be assholes.’

‘But those people don’t have power over your career. Why shouldn’t I care what the people at the network think when they’re the ones who could make or break me?’

‘You should care what they think, granted, but don’t be scared of them. And listen - those people do have power over my career. No one’s trying to put a weatherman the people don’t respond to on TV. So that means that everything I do is kind of a means to try and get people to like me. That’s... how I’ve formed my personality. I mean, I’ve never really looked at it that way, but I guess it’s true.’

There was a long moment of silence as they both processed what had been said. As awkward and convoluted this conversation had felt for Davey, it kind of felt like invaluable knowledge. He was glad to have it.

‘So, fair’s fair.’

‘Huh?’ He blinked and stared at Jack.

‘My turn. What do you think of me? Since we’re playing this game.’

‘Oh.’ Another struggle against his internal resistance to being anything but placid. He could see why Jack didn’t like answering the question. It was hard. But Davey had appreciated the honesty, so maybe... ‘It took me a while to warm to you.’

‘How come?’

‘I started to think that maybe we weren’t compatible, like, in a professional sense.’

‘No?’

‘Because you’re so good at people, and I’m not.’

‘You’re fine at people.’

‘I know I’m being weird right now and I’m nervous that you’re judging me, but at the same time...’

‘Doesn’t mean we aren’t professionally compatible thought, right? The media needs introverts and extroverts - introverts to think and extroverts to talk.;

‘You’re right. You are right.’

‘Back to me. Didn’t like me at first?’

‘I thought you were cocky and - fake sounds harsh, but... Affected, maybe. A performance. The smiles, the happiness.’

‘To be fair, Davey, you only really see me on the news.’

‘Yes! So then Punx, which I was dreading, but you - I think I’ve started to realise that it is your personality. It’s not fake. It’s nice to, you know, bring the sunshine, as it were.’

‘Someone has to.’ Jack glanced down at the table then back up at Davey. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

‘Do you think everyone at the station thinks I’m fake?’

‘What?’

‘If you thought that...’

‘No! Jack, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean... I don’t know why I said it.’

‘Cuz I asked.’

Davey’s stomach twisted and he felt like a dick for instigating this. It had been interesting to know what Jack thought but did that mean he had to air his own prejudices about the poor guy? He almost looked a little cut up.

‘Jack - everyone at the station genuinely adores you. You have to know that.’

‘Yeah, but if I’m fake, maybe everyone else is fake, right?’ He stood up, pushing his plate away. ‘Excuse me, Davey. I need to go take a walk.’

Ah.

He watched Jack leave, a contemplative look of disappointment on his face Davey had never seen before. What the hell had driven him to that kind of unwelcome honesty? He’d never expected Jack to actually take it to heart.

It was fine. It was okay. The day was going to repeat. It had to. He could try again.

He left too, heading back to the hotel despite it being barely eleven. If he could just sleep, work, watch Netflix, anything until the next day, it would be fine. He didn’t want to risk fucking anything else up.

The walk back was only a couple of minutes, but a little eventful by Punx standards. As he stepped out the diner a tiny dachshund sprinted comically down the street, and a little ways away about a minute later a delivery man stumbled down the steps of his truck, spilling the stack of boxes he was holding and sending the contents, dozens of cupcakes, flying down the road. Davey felt the tiniest jolt of guilt as he walked past but figured the damage had been done, and the bakery employees the cakes were destined for could probably help.

And of course, if he helped, it would probably only happen again tomorrow.

Just outside the hotel he had to duck round a woman standing at the gate talking to Mrs. Bloom - or weeping, it turned out, clutching an A4 printout that declared “MISSING PUPPY.” He recognised it as the pup that had just flown past him and forced himself to stop and mention this to the woman.

A ladder leaned precariously against the hotel, where a cleaner finished up one of the first floor windows, stretching out to get the last corner. Just as Davey got inside the door, the ladder slipped into the soft soil under the man’s weight and toppled, sending him flying hard onto the lawn. Mrs. Bloom rushed over to attend, and Davey, at seeing the man sit up and proclaim ‘I’m okay, I’m okay!’ decided it was fine to not intervene.

This stuff had probably happened the previous versions of this day and would only happen again tomorrow’s version of the day - and Davey had his own shit to figure out.

#newsies #newsies fic #davey jacobs #jack kelly #javid #ello friends its me again managed an update in less than a month this time #this chapter gave me so much gyp and honestly credits to the groundhog day writers i hella underestimated how much forethought u need #but thank u all for your patience i am still enamoured with this story even if i'm updating at the rate of a snail #OOPS GOT THE CHAPTER NAME WRONG FIRST ITS AFTERNOON FOUR HAVE EDITED LADS

9 notes · View notes

canaryatlaw · 4 years

Text

okay, today was WILD. Idk how much energy I have to write it all out but there’s a lot of it. I’d set my alarm for 8 because I wanted to bug ticketmaster ASAP about getting the stupid code, and I honestly don’t even remember how that situation ended because we just ended up using the code they’d told us was the “generic” code. Friend arrived and we ate the brunch food I’d ordered while waiting for things to happen. at 9 am our time the NY tickets went on sale since that was their 10 am so we could see how the process went and it was pretty simple, it wanted the code but wasn’t didn’t require an email address or anything for it to be pre-sale, so we were just put in the queue and got in after a few minutes. so we had least had a better idea of what we were doing at that point. so we made sure we were in the waiting room for Chi and mostly just waited, lol. We had my laptop, friend’s laptop, and the crappy chromebook I have, I didn’t think it would let me run more than one account at a time because last time they’d only let you do one on the same phone number, but apparently that wasn’t an issue this time. so we get into the queue and I think it was my chromebook that got the best place in line and we were in in about 30 seconds after it went live. there were two seats in pit left when we opened it, but I knew before we could get to them someone else would take them, and they disappeared like 2 seconds later, so that was frustrating to know even when I knew we couldn’t get them. so we ended up four rows back from the pit, row DD where the pit was AAA-DDD and then our section was AA down to us at DD. so they were still very good seats and we were pleased with that. then of course we checked the NY seats just to, you know, see, and neither friend nor I have any impulse control, and they had very few very good seats left, and I was too goddamn tempted so now we have NY tickets too lol. so with that we declared victory and moved onto the next part of the day, which was a trip to Target. we went to the one pretty close to us that friend usually goes to but I don’t because there really isn’t any viable public transportation routes to get there. so we went around and grabbed different things, like cat food and some random food items. when we were almost done, I got a message on my phone and then realized HOOOOOOOOHHH BOY, I FUCKED UP. basically I was supposed to be in court this morning but I was an idiot and never added it to the calendar or spreadsheet, so I didn’t know it was today. and I mean, I knew it was a fixable situation because this has happened to pretty much everyone at some point, plus like, we don’t like get in trouble at work?? like it’s just not a thing lol so I wasn’t that concerned. so I looked at some stuff on my phone while we checked out of Target and then headed to the Taco Bell we’d been wanting for like, over a week now haha, they no longer had the chalupa box option I had been getting but they had their new “grilled cheese burrito” with a box so I got that instead. it was pretty good, though I have no idea how it was supposed to be related to grilled cheese because it was pretty much just a cheesy burrito. Once we ate our food in the car, we tried to go to a bank and get quarters, but the line was like super long so we decided it wasn’t worth it, so after that friend dropped me at home. while I was trying to walk up to the stairs to my apartment with my bags I had like a really bad tremor in my legs like the ones that have been happening lately and I fell forward onto the stairs, I didn’t get hurt or anything but it was really scary, and once I got up I almost fell like 3 more times so I’m like jesus fuck. then I remembered when I was talking to my new primary care doctor she had told me to look out for this potential side effect from one of the meds I’m on, and I hadn’t put it together up to this point because that side effect was more described as like, twitching instead of tremors, but the ones that have been very bad and only started recently are definitely somewhat closer to that. so I called my doctors office thinking she had just said that I should just stop taking the med and I’d be fine, and just wanted to confirm that. they took my info and she would get back to me as soon as she can. so I then spent the next like 4 hours trying to get any information about the court case that went up today because we can’t put any effort into fixing it when we don’t actually know what the situation was. I called like, everybody I could think of and like got sent in so many loops because apparently everyone is so fucking incompetent!! and like when I thought I got to the people who would actually know the answers their phones either went to voicemail or would just ring endlessly before dropping the call, and I called over and over again and left two voicemails. the main issue I think was that the courtroom coordinator for the courtroom it was up in was not there that day, but they said they would get me to talk with the clerk of the courtroom, but that never happened. so like, I’m fairly irritated with all of this. somewhere in the mix of all this I received the call back from my doctor, and oh hey she hadn’t said just stop the medication if the side effect appears, she said go to the ER to make sure it’s not a more serious side effect that could start like this and could be like, irreversible if not treated, and she was like very firm about me needing to go. and I’m really frustrated about it because I really don’t want to do that and I knew that it was very likely it would turn out to be nothing, but after some debating and seeing just how bad things were today I decided to go, once I finished work haha because she did say it wasn’t like an /urgent/ urgent matter because I’m clearly sitting there being fine. so I finished it all up and then packed a bag with some of my meds and some snacks, then ubered to the ER. it would’ve been nice to have someone with me so I didn’t have to go by myself, but because of everything they’re still doing the policy where they’re only allowing patients in, not anybody else with them, even when the covid cases were being dealt with an entirely different section of the med complex, but hey you know how things are right now. so I got there and checked in, they took some vitals and then not long afterwards took me to a room to wait for nurse and/or doctor. so I waited, wasn’t too long, maybe about 25 minutes but like I had my phone so I didn’t care lol. once they got in there they like evaluated the tremors and did some bloodwork, and ultimately concluded it at least was very unlikely it was the serious side effect, and that if I stop the medication that should help things significantly. this whole thing is the fault of my dickhead old psychiatrist who put me on this med to begin with. he only put me on it for sleep purposes which is an off label use for it when it’s actually like, an antipsychotic med which I obviously didn’t need because I’m pretty stable at this point. at first it worked for sleep, but then kind of stopped really working, so I was already planning on changing it when I have my psychiatrist appointment next week, so I guess now I’ll just be stopping a bit earlier. they said to take benadryl for both it’s sleep-inducing effects and that it can actually be a way to treat tremors too, so that would be good. I got discharged not long after, I walked a bit away from the ER entrance before getting an uber because I didn’t want to totally freak the driving out picking me up from the ER. but that ended up fine and this driver was like going all out for that 5 star rating haha offering my a phone cable, to turn on the AC or not and what to have on the radio haha and he was nice and funny to talk to in our fairly short ride home, so that was good at least. when I got home I did some stuff only my computer for a bit, I don’t remember what at this point, but eventually I turned on The Goldbergs while doing computer stuff and then after a bit watched some kpop videos that I hadn’t seen yet so I was glad to see those. and yeah, shortly after finishing up with them I showered and started getting ready for bed and now I’m here. I guess I managed to get most of my crazy day out there because this post is hella long haha but I mean that’s just because a lot went on. hopefully tomorrow will be less eventful, I don’t have court or standby on the hotline but I need to figure out what’s happening with the case from today, so idk how much time that will take up, but now it’s 1:30 am and I really need some sleep, so I’ll end this here. Goodnight babes. Hope you have a great Wednesday.

#daily journal #July 2020

0 notes