that makes sense! i just thought you were posting about the person reblogging it. thanks for replying
realistically should have censored their name for real
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You know what? You know what I think?
I think that if we lived as we were meant to, in larger intimate ("extended family") groups and with more shared labor and time to do it (UBI NOW) people like me would not feel so useless and burdensome because there would be people around to help and to do what neurodivergent people can't while making valuable space for the neurodivergent to do what they ARE good at.
The way we live right now, all right, the way we live right now forces units of two adults to be able to do EVERYTHING or PAY to have someone come do it for them. I have to do the housework. I have to do it! But I am having to do a million different things and most of them I am not good at. I suck at them.
I wouldn't feel like shit, okay, if I had more than one other person around who was not a child and who could do the things I can't, like do the yard and cook and do repairs and basic maintenance; and someone else to split everything else that I like but is too much for me. It would free me to do what I am good at and enjoy. Cleaning, as in the sink and toilet, the windows, the blinds. Taking out trash. Folding, hanging, and sorting laundry.
But because all the shit I can do often relies on other shit being done first, and I can't do or have trouble doing those things, the shit I can do often can't be done. And even the shit I can do, I can't do ALL of it. So I can't keep up, and things get very bad.
We aren't meant to live like this. We are not meant to live like this.
That thought hurts so much because being able to flee the birth family is integral to survival for so many people. I'm so afraid that living in larger family groups would create more opportunities for, say, queer kids to be isolated, rejected, bullied, and abused. But if we gave people enough money to survive, and stopped considering children the property of their parents with no system in place to help them escape bad situations except a system that is often just as bad, just different.
I'm aware that communes and collectives aren't all that successful and are kind of a joke. I don't mean that. I mean a fundamental shift to multigenerational families where taking in "strays" (which my family did) is also normalized so people escaping abuse into existing households was accepted, with these families centered in maybe a couple of different larger residences so not everyone has to buy and maintain their own fucking washing machine and vacuum cleaner, and so people can benefit from large group meals that yield leftovers, and so child and elder care can also be centralized.
Then disabled people and the neurodivergent and sick and injured people, and pregnant people, and grieving people, would not have to either labor through all those stressors or consign themselves to living off an unlivable pittance or being put under legal guardianship.
I'm not saying anything new. People live like this in other parts of the world and maybe it sucks and I am wrong. But I'm just really mad right now because I can either do laundry or clean the sink but not both, and I really think we could improve society somewhat by making it so I did not have to choose one without sacrificing the other.
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WIP Wednesday
I fucked off for a good while so I know @direwombat and @g0dspeeed tagged me and I thank them for including me in the fun even if Im a month late to the party 🫡 This is a massive jump in the single mom/blind date verse but the idea reminded me of a story I was told and I couldn’t help but laugh and incorporate it into the overall story. Remember to go to your follow up appointment after a vasectomy, kids
Tagging; @socially-awkward-skeleton @391780 @kneelingshadowsalome @ceilidho @glossysoap @divine--serenity @thanksbutno98 @luminousbeings-crudematter @deadbranch and any moots that I missed ;.;
Kate sits with her coffee in hand, watching as Love settles into the chair across from her, visibly pleased with the prospect of her own coffee.
They’re usually fond of companionable silence, a murmured morning in the greeting (Not good morning, as Love is never a willing morning person), before sticking their noses in their respective tablets and fiddling with emails and tasks despite this supposed to be a time for break.
Kate is neck deep wheeling and dealing as usual when she hears displeased muttering across the table. Glancing up, Love has her coffee in hand and a sour look on her face. “Everything alright?” She asks as the muttering continues.
“I’m going to kill him.”
Kate is not following. “You’re going to what?”
Love has a face as serious as a heart attack, eyes narrowing at Kate across the way. “I’m going to succeed where terrorist cells across the world have failed, and I am going to kill John Price.”
Given Love’s pleasant mood not two minutes ago, Kate can’t help but wonder what the hell happened in such a short time span that John’s landed himself in hot water.
“What’d he do?” Ever nosy, Kate’s penchant for learning everything has served her well at her job.
“I’m fucking pregnant. Again,” she elaborates while gesturing at the coffee with her free hand.
“Ignoring the fact that you announcing you’re going to kill him makes it premeditated- before you go to prison for the murder of a S.A.S. Captain, do you want to,” Kate pauses as she pretends to think, “I dunno, maybe pee on a stick?”
“This,” another gesture to the coffee, “is better than a blood test. The only stick I need is the one I’m going to shove up his ass.”
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