#it's data entry it doesn't need to be a night job

[fox-guardian]

they most likely started dating in uni. they'd been dating for years. Alice has been working at the OIAR for almost a decade. what if their breakup was literally just "we never get to see each other anymore because of your job, I miss you" "I'm sorry I can't quit this job" "I understand. But then maybe we should see other people, since our lifestyles are too incompatible" ".... okay" what if it was just that.

which would perhaps make it hurt Worse for Alice (if she Does still have feelings for him) that now that he Does work the same hours as her, that he's.... going after someone else.

[bereft-of-frogs]

🎉 the return of the friday list

hey remember when I used to do this every week for a bit and then I stopped? well, doing it again because this is my blog and no one can stop me

📚 reading/watching/listening to:

🤖 [ audiobook ] Rogue Protocol - Martha Wells: I am having violent thoughts about everyone who ever hurt Murderbot. We're unpacking so much trauma in this book lol. Got less than an hour left, will probably finish it this afternoon. Someone get this robot a warm blanket and a new season of Sanctuary Moon STAT!!

☄️ [ book ] Catalyst - James Luceno: I've had this on my to read list for a long time and thought I'd be ironic. It's ok so far, about a third in. I remain underwhelmed by Luceno's writing of women but it turns out he's not the only one so. Eh. More things not to mention on Reddit (my most downvoted posts have been ones where I’m critical of Luceno, the fanboys LOVE him.)

🌌 [ tv ] The Expanse: I've been annoying enough Expanse-posting every damn day so y'all know where I'm at already and probably more of my feelings than you want. I'm about midway through season 2, everyone is still just a little too mean to each other and bad at their jobs for my tastes, but I'll always have the book versions lol. I think my problem is I just really like it when people communicate and are also good at their jobs, and TV production tends to like when people don't communicate and are bad at their jobs, because it makes for more drama. But idk I personally think that having someone generally competent make a bad decision is better drama but that’s just me. Effects remain unmatched and there are a lot of good things, I just miss my married trauma-bonded ducklings

🛸 [ tv ] The X-Files: Finished season 5! A return to form. I liked season 5 a lot more than 4, I think it took itself more seriously. Onto the first movie tonight. I'm a little nervous about how it will hold up because it is such a trash favorite. I loved this movie when I was a kid, but all I remember about it are bees????

🤖 [ tv ] Murderbot: Watched the first episode last night, will watch the second tonight. Ok so far! Definitely an intro, in that it was just dropping little hints of the deeper plot while remaining relatively shallow in tone. I didn't have as many fears as some fans because I'm not as emotionally attached to the books yet, but it did manage to land on my only one, which was that I felt Sanctuary Moon was just a bit to heavy-handed with the parody. I did feel a tiny bit made fun of. I'm not sure why that is, especially when you compare it to stuff like the fake show in Avenue 5, which I found hilarious, but it was just a tiny bit over the top.

🌿 weekend to dos:

long run + grocery store! (one of my new favorite running trails is right outside the grocery store, it's so convenient)

watch many things including: the first X-Files film (I think they call it 'Fight the Future' now, but when I first watched it, it was just 'The X-Files') -> the new TLOU episode I neglected on Sunday -> second episode that's out of Murderbot -> next up in my Expanse marathon

rainy weekend again so I have some writing things to do including rewriting the last action section that really needs a second pass, a few more edits, and getting this 85k fic at least partially formatted to post. hoping to start posting next Friday, because by the chapter count that will take me to the end of August and that feels very neat. the first couple chapters are ready to go, honestly, it's just chapter 4 that has two lengthy action sequences that are a hot mess right now. short fic rough drafts only after I finish all that. as a treat.

emotionally prepare for ✨ 'corporate team building week'✨ aka do nothing and talk to no one because I'm going to spend 3 days having to talk to a LOT of people and going from 'data entry hermit who doesn't talk to anyone and just listens to audiobooks every day' to 'meet a bunch of strangers and pretend to care about my job' is a bit draining. it is pretty fun though and then everyone scatters back to their various wfh setups and I can return to my audiobooks. I also might go to the good thrift store to find some corporate cosplay lol

🌻 have a good weekend!

[hailtothepumpkinqueen]

Conversations at the Saloon Part 2 🍕🍺

(Part 1 here. Farmer and Shane talk after a rough interaction the day before. The dummies are bad at feelings and even worse at realizing what's brewing between them lol my farmer's last name is Miller and "my" Shane's last name is Cooper because I think it's funny, and so do they.)

"I'm doomed..." Clint sighed, almost certainly looking as crestfallen as she felt.

"Yeah...me, too..." She said softly, pushing off the table to get up from her seat. "Welp. This has been fun, but I'm gonna order my own food and head out. Good luck, Clint."

She didn't wait for a response, walking up to the bar(away from Shane) and plopping herself down on a stool. Waiting for Emily or Gus to notice her and looking anywhere but where Shane was sitting.

"Hey, Kitty Kat~" Emily chirped, bubbly as always. "What can I get you?"

"Hey, Em. Just a Joja Cola and something warm to eat. To go, please." Tapping her fingers anxiously on the wooden surface of the bar as she spoke. Not wanting to be here any longer than she had to be.

"Aww, c'mon. Stay awhile!" Emily pleaded, making puppy dog eyes and jutting her lip out in a mock pout. "I wanna hear what's going on on your farm! Or in the mines! I saw you talking to Clint earlier, so I assume it was mining related."

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I guess he could tell I'd been spelunking 'cause he was trying to sell me on a few upgrades for my stuff." She chuckled in what she hoped was a natural sounding way, giving a little shrug and resting her elbows on the counter. She'd rather eat raw bug meat than tell Emily that Clint had asked for dating advice. "Nothing exciting today, unfortunately. Just a lot of dirt and rocks. And exhaustion. I'm so tired, Em. I'm not used to this kind of manual labor. Buh."

She put her head down on the bar and exhaled dramatically, hearing a giggle from Emily...and possibly a snort from Shane. Or Gus. She couldn't tell with her head down, but some silly part of her hoped it was Shane. Why? Why did she want that? Maybe she was concussed..

"You're from the city, right?" Emily asked, setting a cola on the counter with a soft chuckle when she sat up straight again. "What made you want to give farming a try if it's so outside your wheelhouse?"

"Got tired of my old job. Needed fresh air and a fresh start, y'know?" She replied with a practiced nonchalance, feeling Shane's eyes on her practically boring a hole into the side of her head even from a distance. Because that was very much not the reason she had told him when they talked two nights ago. She pretended not to notice and took a sip of her cola, grateful for the cold drink on her dry throat. "And no better time to start over than Spring, right?"

"Exactly! Spring is the season of rebirth and renewal, the beginning of a cycle. Oooh, I love the idea of your new life growing right beside all the little saplings waking up from a long winter's sleep." Emily clapped her hands in joy, practically bouncing in place at the thought of it. "What were you doing before this?"

"Data entry clerk for Joja Co." She grimaced and took a swing of her soda like that would wash the bitter taste of her old job out of her mouth.

"So you were a desk monkey?" Shane's voice suddenly piped up, startling her. He had somehow sat a lot closer without her realizing and was actively listening to the conversation. He was also clearly intoxicated the way his words slurred. "Sittin' in a cramped little cubicle all day and starin' at a screen til you go cross-eyed?"

"Basically." She shrugged, glancing at him to gauge his mood. He seemed relaxed, most likely due to the alcohol, and he had been the one go approach her, so maybe this would be okay. "Doing five other people's work for no extra pay, next to no free time, getting micromanaged to hell and back by dickheads who make way more money doing fuck all. Getting written up for yawning one too many times when I 'could have been working'. You know, typical stuff."

"Yoba, if that doesn't sound familiar." He grumbled, polishing off his beer and setting the heavy glass down. "They must grow Joja managers in a lab and ship 'em out to all their branches."

She snorted softly and felt herself smile, taking another swig of her own drink. "Needless to say, I did not, uh, Thrive™ during my time at Joja. Heh."

"Seeing the JojaMart must have been quite a shock, then, if you were trying to escape the corporation. " Emily said, refilling Shane's glass without looking like it was second nature. Startling when a little timer went off in her apron. "Oop. I'll be right back, Clint's food should be ready by now. Don't tell any fun stories without me~." Practically dancing away and leaving her alone with Shane. Who was still staring at her intently.

"...You avoidin' me?" He asked after a moment, his voice softer than before. Almost sounding hurt. "Said 'hi' to Clint and Em, but not me."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Bitterness seeping into her own tone, hands gripping her drink a little tighter.

"When has that stopped you before? You seem pretty persistent in bein' friends regardless of what I say."

"I don't like being yelled at, Shane..." she admitted quietly, shrinking into herself a little. "And what was it you said? You'd give me a pot of gold to leave you alone? Felt a little more serious than just being 'too busy' to talk."

He grimaced and looked into his beer, tracing the rim of it with his finger.

"Didn't...didn't mean that. Not at you specifically anyway. M'just an asshole and you got the brunt of a bad mood. Wasn't personal, I swear."

She gave a small hum in response, wanting to believe him but still not entirely convinced he wasn't just messing with her.

"...Were you tellin' me the truth before? About why you came here? Or was the story you told Emily the right one and you were jus' humorin' me?" He leaned closer to her, his voice dropping even lower like they were sharing secrets. His face so serious and disappointed by the idea that she had lied to him it pulled at her heartstrings.

"Everything I said at the lake was the truth, I promise. I just...didn't think Emily would understand. Not like you do.." Again, she allowed herself a vulnerable moment with him. Hoping this wasn't some ploy to later throw her anxieties back in her face.

His expression brightened and now he looked relieved, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

"Your secret's safe with me. Us Joja wage slaves gotta stick together, huh?" He very gently punched her shoulder and winked, taking a drink from his beer with a smile. Still sitting very close to her despite having the whole Saloon to occupy if he wanted space. But she wasn't exactly leaning away either.

"Look at you two getting along~" Emily's cheerful voice cut through whatever the moment between them was, and she found herself sitting up straighter like a teacher had just caught her dozing off. Hands folded neatly in front of her and all. Only now remembering how hungry she was when the blue haired barmaid placed a personal pizza on the counter in front of her. "Thank Yoba. I don't I could bear another night of Shane worrying about hurting your feelings, Kitty Kat."

Shane spluttered and choked on his drink, looking between the women with wide eyed mortification. Practically trying to disappear in his hoodie when they laughed. And, if she didn't know any better, she'd swear he was blushing. But that could just be from the booze.

"That's not--I was not...I didn't.." He floundered a moment before huffing and putting his head down on the bar with a pout. "Buh."

"Cute." She thought with a sudden fondness, followed by confusion for the sentiment. Man, she really must have hit her head hard in the mines.

"I told you he was a big ol' teddy bear." Emily stage whispered behind her hand, giggling when Shane grumbled in protest at the accusation but didn't lift his head. "Enjoy your food, hun. Let me know if you need anything else, 'kay?"

"You're a lifesaver, Em." She chuckled around a bite of pizza, table manners the furthest thing from her mind right now. Practically inhaling half of it before glancing over at Shane, who still had his head on the counter facing away from her. She looked towards the remainder of her pizza, then back at Shane, then to the pizza again before sliding it towards him.

"Hey. Cooper. Peace offering." Tapping his shoulder to get his attention with an amused smirk. Even more amused when he immediately popped up, turning to look at her with wide eyes.

"Oh. Really? You're sharin'?" He blinked, looking a mix of surprised and grateful. More so when she gave an affirmative hum and nod. "That's...you don't have to...uh, thanks."

She chuckled softly, finding him fumbling over his words endearing somehow. Maybe because he acted like she had given him something truly precious when all she had done was share a pizza with him. Sure, it was his favorite, but still. It was kind of sweet he was taken aback by a small gesture.

"Well you sent me one in the mail. Now we're even." She waved a dismissive hand, putting enough gold on the counter to pay for her meal and getting up to leave. "I gotta go before it gets too late. See you around, right?"

As she turned to go, he suddenly reached out and caught her wrist, his large hand easily encircling it and catching her by surprise. Her head whipped around to look at him in question, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. His face flushed again and lower lip jutting out in a bit of a pout.

"I wanted...I wanted to..." He shut his eyes and sighed heavily, grimacing. "I wanted to ask how the chickens are doing.."

She blinked, not expecting that to be what he wanted with how he was acting.

"Oh. Um, they're fine. Still alive, if that's what you were wondering. Um...you can come by and see them some time, if you want?"

He perked up again, finally meeting her gaze. "Really? I'd like that. Y'know, to make sure you're taking care of 'em and that they're happy."

She rolled her eyes and smiled, shaking her head. "Right, right. Gotta make sure I'm not a total fuck up right?"

"Right." He smirked with a chuckle, thankfully recognizing she was joking around.

"Hey, Shane?"

"Hm?"

"Gonna need my arm back, bud."

He glanced down and realized he was still holding her wrist, immediately releasing her and looking away again, embarrassed. Wrapping his hands around his mug of beer and staring deeply into it like he held the secrets of the universe.

"G'night, Miller." He mumbled, trying to disappear into his hoodie again.

"Night, Cooper. Enjoy the pizza." She gave him a pat on the arm before finally, finally heading home for the night. She had stayed much later than she intended to, which meant less time she'd be able to (hopefully) sleep before dragging herself out of bed at the ass crack of dawn for another round of farm work.

But she was walking out of the Saloon with more of a pep in her step than when she walked in. Belly full of food and heart full of hope, however foolishly, that Shane didn't actually hate her guts.

[mylifeasaserver]

226

I showed up today with a raging erection because I was so excited to "do what it takes for the patients."

When I got there we had over 100 new prescriptions in data entry from just this morning. The pharmacists had almost 100 in verification (where they make sure the tech inputted the prescriptions correctly.) There were 226 in fill.

And then the callouts began.

For context, we were supposed to have 4 techs plus me, and I'm a rental at this store.

We had 2 techs. Including me.

The pharmacy closes at 8. The tech that arrived before me was scheduled to leave at 4. I was scheduled to leave at 5.

This poses a very real problem, since you can't just have one person working in the pharmacy, so there are 3 hours where only the pharmacy manager would be there. Not like they can just pull somebody from the store either - they need anybody working back here to be certified.

The pharmacy manager begins making desperate calls trying to find another tech to cover the hours. This store is out of techs, as everybody was either scheduled and called off or is already here. The other stores in the area are in the same boat - though with less callouts. Not to mention it's Saturday and nobody wants to work weekends to begin with.

So this poor manager - I really do like her because she's competent and understands that corporate decisions are dumber than drinking yourself to sleep every night - calls the regional asking him what she should do. There's no overtime, no techs to come in, and they don't want to pay the extra for a pharmacist to come in.

He authorizes overtime.

She first asks the tech that actually works at that store if she wants to stay for overtime pay. It makes sense that she'd be asked first, she's full time and regularly works there.

She declines.

She asks me if I'll stay. I will not.

She calls the regional back, and reports that nobody will work the overtime.

The regional decides that he needs to flex his managerial muscle and talk directly to the techs to convince us to stay. The other tech gets the talk first, but she's selfishly unwilling to leave her kid alone at home after the babysitter leaves. This is not prioritizing the patients like the company wants at all!

Then he gets me. He doesn't want this conversation. I don't want this conversation. The regional doesn't like me, and I don't think about him enough to care one way or another.

"John, we need you to stay until close tonight. I know we can count on you." He phrased it this way because it removes the illusion of an option. But after declaring the company can't afford overtime, I'd rather shit in my hands and clap than work it to save their asses when it goes sideways.

"You can't count on me for that. I'm sure you'll figure something out. You'll just need to step up and do what it takes for the patients." I hear that familiar exasperated sigh on the other end of the call, heard many times over years of working with mid-level managers who don't understand why their underlings won't do anything to protect their easily replaced jobs.

I transfer him back to the pharmacy manager.

**Author's note** I did have a conversation with the pharmacy manager after she got off the phone with this galaxy-brained dipshit. She's well aware that I'm not refusing because of her or anything she's done. It's because her boss is a dumbass and his bosses have nothing more than a barely-functioning brain stem. We're on good terms. When I left, the pharmacy closed.

The regional had authorized the astronomical pay for a pharmacist to come in to close with the manager. They all declined. No tech from another store was willing to show up for a 3 hour shift, especially since most of them would have to leave the store they were already working at just to come to this trash fire. I did helpfully suggest the regional comes in for those hours, but that was a non-starter for some reason.

Do you know how fucked things have to be for a retail space to close early?

I left sharply at 5, and spent most of my day running the register. The pharmacy manager put up a sign that we closed early due to understaffing and encouraged people to notify corporate with their displeasure. I volunteered to take the hit for it should that come back to bite her.

Checked Indeed tonight. There are plenty of open pharmacy tech positions. And if things keep up this way, I'll be taking one of them.

Oh and when I left? Over 300 new prescriptions in entry. Over 500 in fill. It'll take days to dig out from that.

Lucky for me, I'm not scheduled again until Wednesday. And barring them paying me extra to come in on my day off, I'm going to enjoy my time off. Maybe go fishing. Maybe teach myself to cook Korean food. Who knows? Not gonna lie, this job shit the bed really fast. Went from "nothing to post" to "what the fuck is this place even?" Maybe I need to go back to restaurants. Or sell meth. For legal reasons I'll specify that selling meth is a joke. -J

[gayamulet]

Art drawling

Its sort of wild how art came to a screeching halt as soon as I got a full time job. And yeah, there's a bunch of corresponding factors- a physically demanding full time job crammed into 4 days, that I'm older and so, working with less energy, sleeping a lot more (seriously wtf), and compartmentalizing time much more. Freestanding time & energy is less and has to be planned out and those times left open for the chance to 'do art' in whatever capacity I can do not equate to 100% output success rates like day job hours. I can go in with a 'fuck yeah, art night!' frame of mind and come out pretty unfulfilled (again, with the awareness that fulfillment is not the goal).

And of course recognizing that many more mundane tasks fulfill a bigger chunk of that makemakemake drive- meal prep, cleaning (ugh), plant care, yard care, mending work clothes, etc. And you know, the more annoying factor. A lot of that creative energy also gets fulfilled by mundane tasks at work- animal care, walking, cleaning (yes that includes complicated dogshit catastrophes), training, behavior data collection & entry. I come out of it of course physically tired because it is hard messy work, but it also just has me choosing/seeking artistic outlets less, and not feeling too bad about it introspectively. Its make-drive going someplace useful, through whatever framework my brain has established as useful, idk.

All this brings me to my actual point of frustration with art-making, that when I have time and there is a bit of planning involved (I have exactly one con art show and local tiny art market to work toward this summer) and I sit down and I casually think about what I'd like, for me, for these events with no pressure and, again, for me, that

I just don't want to make myself anything. That it already exists, that there are endless iterations of whatever visual landscape I'm riffing through at any given time, that it doesn't need physical manifestation, that it no longer serves me creatively, that I don't care. I can dangle a glittery new process (ink, linocut, etc) like a its-about-the-process carrot in front of me, but suddenly I don't like carrots. And it feels, less born of a dead creative drive, and more like...an extension of what I don't want from other people- junk. That I do not want to generate more junk for myself. Does this make sense? I think it sounds more heartless than I mean for it to. Like unless there is very defined intention, then I don't need it? I cannot think of a way to explain it that doesn't sound protestant as fuck. Maybe I've hit some critical mass of art intake overload thanks to the internet, maybe this is just what creativity looks like now. Tho, there's enough of a useful task involved that freelance artwork is still hopping along- much more slowly than before for all the regular reasons listed above- but otherwise its fine. I still get that pleasant little brain buzz.

I get these surges of frustration, that I've fallen off from working toward some ultra-personalized visual landscape goal like I used to, that once I do I'll be perceived as human again, or something. Like this is still some pinnacle of artistic merit, in some mythical corner of my brain. But those surges are much less frequent than they used to be, and fizzle out quickly. And idk. Art isn't going anywhere in my life, but where it comes from and how I'm making and shaping things is changing again. I guess?

*I DO, however, wanna make more cardboard masks. So bad.

**I know I kept this in a pretty strict work vs art vacuum, without acknowledging other uses of time, including other hobbies which of course also accounts for creative/emotional outlet but you know what I'm gonna stop here before you guys figure out I'm actually a robot

[bothhauntedandholy]

Creator sleeps well for someone as short as he. The creation stands tall and threathening outside the premises in the meanwhile for the full hours that he sleeps in. It gathers data, in the meantime. It learns about the server, and brand new revelations since its deactivation all those years ago. Fresh data, for a barely rusted bot.

It remembers Creator, when Creator worked in the white building of the Federation. He was freshly eighteen, landed a lucky job as an inventor after leaving his friend FitMC in a chaos of a server. His words, directly, and apart of the many many ramblings that Creator told it as he worked on it. The creation kept it all.

Well, for one, because it was needed. The storing of its eyes, ears, and mouth were vital to its purpose as a machine. It's an ever-learning database after all. The second is because it always ..."felt" right to keep them. It's Creator, and everything about him.

Shouldn't it store everything he says?

The four legged machine stands stationary outside the factory, arms close to its body as it sifts through all public information available to it. It collects online data, files the Federation hadn't properly closed, everything on Creator's account and computers strewn around his factory. It learns of names, players, locations, thoughts, and happenings. The creation stores this all in its systems for safe keeping.

It learns more about the shells, funnily enough. More than it needed to. It found names, history, and accounts. It pinpoints their location by the proper x, y, and z coordinates through their posted thoughts. A river, a camp, tents, and dozens of more... shells. Creation takes note, and uses more of its ability to access the console log.

/locate SunnySideUp

/locate Pepito

/locate Empanada

The sun rises as the moth inspired machine completes its data storage. It now has eyes and ears over every single active player on the server. Useful, for it rather than Creator. Creation debates staying for a little while longer, for Creator to wake up as well and finally, finally, greet it again.

Hello old friend, she'd say.

But it ultimately doesn't. Creator shouldn't know, what if he doesn't remember? What if he forgot? What if her Creation was never supposed to even be here? Creation doesn't bother finding out the true answer.

Its wings spread, fluttering like a helicopter blade, and it lifts off.

It could tell Creator needs help. Her health status was in poor condition. No sleep, low hunger, and since it checked, on four hearts. Creation treated him as best it could in the night avoiding detection. Creator looked worse, than he used to look when he was younger and overworked.

Creation could always pinpoint this decline on the shells. They did, after all, cause this to happen as far as it could tell. Journal entries that were left unread by anybody other than Creator were left on his desk. About how he was losing his mind, his nightmares, his dreams, and everything else he was able to jot down. No sign of his work, his most prized and impressive machinery, his Creation, however. That's alright.

But the shells, they were everywhere.

No, they were everything, to Creator.

They were on every page, every search history query, every account, and every other piece of data Creator got her hands on. It was impressed, of how rich this database was on these three shells alone. These... children. So clearly, they were important to Creator. So much, that her health declined without them.

So the most logical thing right now is to classify them as threats, right? They had caused Creator to nearly perish and add to the counter of player deaths, right?

Well, perhaps maybe not yet. Not until Creation can discern whether this was malicious intent. They are... young, after all. Small, and little. Usually not even a threat. But they're still important to find nonetheless. Regardless of their actions to its precious Creator.

Thin metal legs hit a branch of a tree, clamps acting as claws and firmly stabilizing itself on the wood. It creaks, crouching as a perched moth, with eyes narrowing to perform an area scan. Tents, about thirty blocks away, with small figures gathered around. Shells. And more than the three it had learned about. It makes quick work of connecting dots, names and faces to what's available on the server-wide web. More shells to look out for, more to study.

It's not here for any of those yet. It locks onto ones it finds on its extensive and Creator written database. The creation observes, it records audio and visuals, it learns. It watches over them, like a protective hawk.

Somehow, through its Creator, it finds an urge to allow them to be within its protection too. They are, without a doubt, incredibly important to him. It'd fail as his creation to not even consider those close to her. It could be scrapped, for this disobdience. It wouldn't mind, it considers.

Creation ceases all thoughts, instead choosing to focus on protecting this tiny civilation, from a distance. It's a guard machine, an emergency, not a person.

It needs to do as it's instructed.

[derrick-cagayan]

Life Recap

Born in '89 in the Bay Area. Family moved to Vegas before I started 1st grade. This is where I met some of my childhood friends, who I still hangout to this day. I didn't graduate high school because I skipped gov't class too much. Why? To be with friends, duh. This affected my life entirely.

After high school where I did not graduated, I got recruited to join the Marines. I wasn't patriotic by any means, they just promised I would get a high school diploma and a job. Otherwise I would be a waste of a human being. The military wasn't half bad, it felt like a microcosm of the real world. Went to Afghanistan during the war. Almost died of a blood clot.

Once I did my 4 years, I continued what I was doing after high school. Which is to say, nothing. I was less shy, but I had no guidance in life. So I just stayed with my parents with no job or car. For nearly 7 years! During that time I questioned about my self-worth. We lived in a 2 bedroom apartment. My room was the living room and I felt like I was a burden to my family. I was always embarrassed every Saturday when my friend from elementary would hangout.

I don't remember what changed in my brain that I needed to grow up. But I had a job where I had to take a bus everywhere. It paid like shit, but at least it was a job. We traveled to different stores and do inventory for them. I was able to travel via road to denver and got to see a friend from the Marine Corps there. I enjoyed the company of old folks there. Got to drink with guy name Greg. I left that job because I was gonna be forced to drive the company van. That means I had to drive to places like Kingman, AZ or St George, UT in the middle of the night while others get to nap in the van.

I took several months off from working and tried to learn a trade from a trade school. Don't do this. Google it or ask for tradesman if they need help. It was ok until Covid hit. After a few months of "learning" I got a job as data entry. Met this cute young guy, but ultimately not my type. We had a co-worker who was neurotic and paranoid. We were cool until the last few months before we were being let go. The dude really thought me and our gay co-worker were hanging out without him. We were talking about Microcenter renovations and I said I would like to go there again. He just assumed me and our work friend went without him even though I went there before I started the job.

Enough about that job. I was able to get another job at a warehouse for keys. That was probably my favorite job so far. It had a nice mix of people. Like I'm kinda left leaning but they all seem cool people regardless of their political affiliation. Hung out with guy name Dakota from chicago. Played pinball and drank. There was girl there named Liz and I had a hard crush on her. Sadly she left the job quickly due to family issues. There was another girl named Hailey, I found her hot and fun to tease. She didn't find me attractive, but I still wanted to be her friend because she liked anime.

I miss that place. The pay sucked though. It doesn't help that I had to keep driving from North Las Vegas to South Premium during morning and rush hour traffic. Just 2 years ago I finally got a place away from my parents. I was sorta forced to leave, but I was gonna leave anyway just a few months later.

I rented a room that had 3 other occupants. 2 others plus me had to share a bathroom. It was 550 a month! I just had to suck it up. At least it was closer to the warehouse. I remember the window would shake because of the wind. And the wall was thin. Plus my friends wouldn't hang out here. Usually my place is the go to spot since I'm always in the middle.

5 months prior to me moving I discovered XG and I'll talk about them on a different post. For 2 years of minimum pay (12/hr) I decided to look for a new job. I landed my current one which is at a casino. Ironic because I swore to never work at a casino, but I was desperate. I moved out of that shared housing and moved into my single bedroom apt earlier this year.

I have more to say about certain events, but I just wanted to type this out while it is still in my head. I'll probably clean this up and make it more congestible. If this is still like this, then I'm sorry future me.

[myfirsthaircut]

January 26, 2024,

A couple weeks ago I was offered a "promotion" at work. The problem with the position is that it kinda sucks. I would have to work 3:30-11:30pm in office, Monday to Friday. Yes it is a supervisor position with responsibility over people, but not thw authority to fire people, and given the struggles of previous supervisors in the position, not much power to convince management to fire people either.

I turned down the position (as did someone else I know they offered it to) because I don't want to give up day shift. The money isn't worth it to give up my life. 3:30-11:30pm means I couldn't do Axe League, I'd have to change my season tickets to Shea's (and weekends are more expensive and I might not get as good seats), and my work schedule would be completely opposite my partner. I used to work 1-9pm when I was still single, and it was a pain in the ass to do anything, and more and more places are closed past 10, let alone 11:30. And up until the last couple years, my scheduled days and times changed almost every 6 months. Which made making plans and meeting up with friends difficult. On day shift I have finally gotten a stable schedule.

The pay offered is just simply not worth sacrificing my lifestyle for. Not to mention I am currently working hybrid, meaning only 2 days a week in the office, and switching back to full time in the office and driving home at 11:30, meaning I'm likely to get home after midnight every night just doesn't appeal to me.

I feel like my job doesn't understand the change in the job market. Everyone my age and younger understands that most office and data entry jobs can be done from home, and are going to apply to work from home positions, or at least the smart ones will. Companies need to understand this, and adapt. I hear comments from older coworkers who call WFH people and job seekers lazy, but the truth is not having to wake up early, deal with getting dressed up, the commute, and office drama is actually a huge motivator for people. Not to mention the possibilities it opens for people without cars, with social anxiety, or people with disabilities.

Not to mention the fact that my company is in Buffalo and we keep getting hit with storms that make it impossible to drive to work. WFH is mostly weatherproof.

Anyway, they just formally announced they are hiring for the position and I've started to get people asking if I was applying and as much as I would like the promotion and the pay increase (which wouldn't be much)... it's just not worth it. When I explained this to a coworker he understood l, and agreed stating "you get to a time in your life that's it's not worth it."

I wish my job would promote me within 1st shift, because there is a place for me and my skillset there. I would be an excellent trainer, or even just a formal and recognized senior processor position, since people already come to me for help and support. It's something I need to push for, but talking myself up is not one of my skills.

[niiwa-angel]

The issue with prison and police is not that they exist, it's that they aren't designed properly.

For prisoners who have committed crimes of desperations, such as theft, drug dealing, self defense that turned into manslaughter, etc, prison does not help them. For them, prison further traumatized them, they get out in poverty, and their record makes it hard or even impossible to keep a job that will support them. For most of them, systems like more equal access to education, housing, medical care, and crisis intervention services would have prevented them from offending in the first place and it can keep them out of prison.

Police are not trained in the area of crisis intervention, properly recognizing domestic violence/they don't care about it, and they put more emphasis on power and control in stressful situations than de-escalation. I mentioned this in a post @radgritty made recently about psychosis and mania, but there should be another option when you call 911 for mental health crisis. Too often, people call the police because they are scared for a loved one who is experiencing a mental health crisis like psychosis, suicidal ideations, or otherwise spiraling, and then the police show up and make it worse because they act aggressively and freak the person out more.

Police work, being a male dominated field, also tends to over represent aggressive men who may excuse others men behaving dangerously towards their spouses/children, because they do that too. 40% of police officers in the US and Canada are reported domestic abusers. There have been documented cases, in North America and Europe, where police have known about a man who was a threat to his partner, children, or ex partner, and didn't do anything. Recently in Canada, a journalist found that 1 in every 5 rape cases was dismissed by police as having 'insufficient evidence' yet when the reporter looked, there was evidence that the police just didn't look into. Here's the article

It's almost 11 at night here, so I'm not going to go digging, but I'll bet if I did, there are pretty similar statistics in the US and across Europe. Police do not take women's claims seriously.

That isn't to say we should throw it all away though. Not at all. Just because the net has holes that are too big doesn't mean we should get rid of the net, it means we need to fix the net.

For non-violent offenders, prison should focus more on rehabilitation, education, and re-entry. Offering therapy, addiction services, college or continuing education courses, teaching a trade, setting up apprenticeships in the community, helping with housing and finances upon exit, and continued support through therapy and community integration when they exit. This would lower recidivism rates, create safer prisons, and healthier societies.

For violent offenders, they shouldn't be anywhere near the non violent offenders. Ever. Rapists, murderers, those involved in organized crime like gangs, child molesters, human traffickers, and domestic abusers should not ever be let out. I don't believe in the death penalty, because I don't think it's a good idea to give the government a way for them to legally kill someone, but that doesn't mean they should be wandering around in society. For violent offenders, they should be locked up, highly supervised, very little access to media/the outside (so they can't hurt anyone else), and left for the rest of their natural lives. You cannot rehabilitate people like these, they committed planned crimes and have little to no value for other people. Society is not safe with them out.

As for the police force, it needs to be redone. I already mentioned adding a mental health crisis team to the options for 911 and I don't believe this should be a sector of the police force. There may be some professional overlap but they aren't the same. In addition, we need to get more female interviewers in the force to talk with victims. I don't think a lot of rape/abuse victims want to be telling stories with intimate details to someone who looks like their abusers. All claims of abuse/rape/potential harm from a partner should be treated seriously. We also need to expand on emergency housing so that victims have a safe place to go.

Hi kief… what are your thoughts on prison abolition?

mixed. I'd love to see prison abolished, the theories around prison abolition are things that align with my values. however, I find prison abolitionists lacking answers in practical solutions to violence, especially with regards to gendered violence. the most sophomoric of the armchair theorists seem happy to believe in a fantasy that any individual crime is just a crime of poverty and completely unversed in the endless research on domestic violence. I'm not impressed with the idea that men who are acting out their paternal right to beat women can be reformed with...what, therapy? universal income? It seems often the solutions to these harder issues that fall outside of (or in conjunction with) systemic poverty and systemic racism are treated as an annoyance and inconvenience, and that with pressure to answer the "solutions" just sound like prison that looks nicer to a liberal. We won't imprison them in prison, we'll imprison them in a half way house. Run by whom? The state? Uhm. And who puts them there? No, not the police....the, uh, social workers. With extra legal powers. Who are employed by whom? The state? Uhm?? It's like the prison system with extra steps and nicer vocabulary that just seems destined to disintegrate into what we have now once funding runs out. You know...like everything.

And nothing gets my goat more than how flip some people can be to abused women who ask questions. If your response to a woman who asks "who do I call when my husband beats me" in response to abolishing police is some sort of snide "why would you call the police they statistically won't help you and will make it worse" is openly admitting the solution is for her to shut the fuck up. I hate the police, but call me a bootlicker one thousands times over I will never talk to an abuse victim like that. I will never tell her the one solution you can think of is stupid, and in the meantime stop bringing it up. I think abused women are incredibly inconvenient to prison and police abolitionists, and time and time again I see the most callous language thrown at them. So, if I'm to take someone's arguments seriously, I want to see them demonstrate some fucking concern about women's safety or else I'm just going to disregard them as not worth the consideration.

I always find it a useful exercise to ask if men are willing to consider first prioritizing women. Like for example: what about abolition of women's prisons to start? I think most leftist men would balk at that suggestion but why not?

[jac1984]

POV it's 7:35am wednesday morning. you start your car, so far on time to arrive at your big girl corporate job but only just. soaking wet hair, the shadow of mascara and eyeliner from the night before under your eyes, and a new friendship bracelet on your wrist. under your cardigan, over the scars.

4 hours of sleep at your age should put you on your ass but you feel wide awake. shocked you slept at all. you jumped and danced and screamed for 2 hours sweat soaked and adrenaline fueled. a natural high that will last a few days. so will the sore legs.

you log in and smile for your first meeting (that should be an email) of the day. wonder if they can tell your zoned out. Foot bouncing to a beat still in your head. trying to stay in your head space for just a little longer.

this still doesn't feel like it's really your life. buttoned up and muted. straight-laced. full assed grown adult married with kids. so far removed from the care free radical dreamer you were 15 years ago.

in your head you and her are still the same. or rather she is the real you. the one you can't show. too loud, too weird, too creative. still tragically messaging bands on myspace and penning cryptic livejournal entries. stuck forever in 2004.

it's not a bad place to be. it's when you heard them for the first time. the scorched earth of an august warped tour, went for NOFX, found religion. again in december, that weird week before christmas and new years. (guess i'm still doing now what i was doing then) ((is that a more appropriate song, karen who complains your headphones are too loud)).

shit. your screen went to sleep. back to complicated spreadsheets with tiny numbers. data nightmares.

you hope they felt appreciated, loved, happy. you hope they know they matter. that their music saved your life several times. the therapist, truly, pumping through your speakers. fixed you in 45.

things are better now but when they weren't the only thing that got you by was a song about a dark alley. they keep getting you by every day, with every letter and every song. you just needed them to know.

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

Hi, i saw your request post and i have one.

Can you write down what comes to your mind about Shaun? SFW or NSFW doesn't matter.

I really need that sarcastic English. Please and thank you

Certainly, nonnie! I adore his entertaining database entries! (Sadly, I previously hadn’t spent the most time thinking about him, but I hope these few headcanons I do have are fine!)

• The witty and sarcastic “asides” in the database entries originally started out as Shaun’s way of amusing himself when he was up late into the night researching historical information and cataloging data.

• However, when Rebecca and the rest of the team started to get a kick out of them as well, Shaun kept them in as his way of boosting the team’s morale - especially when times were difficult.

• On a slightly different note, Shaun has a low tolerance for physical pain, and does a horrible job hiding it, whenever he is getting patched up after a rare time “out in the field”.

• In fact, that time he and Rebecca were searching for the Shroud of Eden in London, she threatened to gag him with her hat if he didn’t stop whining when she was tending to his injuries - as she was certain anyone who passed by the building they were hiding out in would’ve heard him, and their cover would’ve been blown.

• Of course, he thoroughly denies acting like this whenever she brings that situation up.

• Probably because he also wants to forget how hot his face became at the passing thought of being dominated by her like that.

[uncloseted]

i don't know what i'm going to do with my life, i feel like my life is a car making it's way to a dead end. i've never been to school so i don't have any qualifications to be able to work a normal job and my family can't afford to help me get a high school diploma. my mum lost her job so my uncle is the only working member in our house, he's turning 50 in a two weeks and it scares me more than it scares him. he can't keep working forever and i can tell that he doesn't enjoy it. (1)

the older i get the more i realise that the likelihood of me achieving my dreams is incredibly low. i've looked up menial jobs but all of them require a year 9 certificate, i don't even have that. next year i'll be legally responsible for my own shit because i turn 18 in may which isn't far away and i'm freaking out because i know that if god-forbid anything happened to my uncle we'd end up homeless and that petrifies me beyond words. i know its a bit "woe is me" to think like that but i (2) can't help but worry. i sit at home all day doing absolutely nothing. i just read books and go on social media trying to escape from reality. i hate the fact that everytime i think of my future, my immediate reaction is fear. i need to find a job ASAP, i can tell that bills are tight atm and i want to help but i don't know how. i've seriously considered becoming a stripper but that idea was shut down as soon as i realised i'm uncoordinated and have a flat arse. (3)

i want to try my hand in writing but i'm not sure where to start. i have a lot of ideas but often struggle to put them into words so that puts writing in the category of a pipe-dream than a possible reality. where i live jobs like working the till in a supermarket, clothing shop assistants and even bar tending all require a high school degree at least. i don't know if it's worth it to go on site and ask for an interview. sorry for flooding your inbox but I just needed vent / some advice

No worries!  I’m happy to listen and help if I can.  It’s a really hard situation you’ve been put in, and it’s way more than any 17 year old should have to deal with.  But the good news is that there’s always a way to improve your situation, and your life really is in your control.  Without knowing where you are in the world, giving specific advice on what your options are is a little bit difficult, but I’m going to try my best.... if you’re in the US, your best bet for long term success is to take the GED.  It’s a high school equivalency exam and will basically let you have a high school diploma without having to go back to actual school, and that will open up more options to you.  Your local library may have GED classes, and there are also a ton of resources online to help you prepare for it. From there, you can do community college to get qualifications or to learn a trade. If you’re in the UK, your best option is probably to take night classes towards a vocation.  

In the meantime, there are jobs you can apply for that won’t require a high school diploma or GED. Some common ones that don’t require a degree (at least in the US) include home health aide, construction worker, food service, warehouse or stock associate, cleaner, receptionist/secretary, food delivery, and truck driving (although you will likely need an additional license for that).  In the US, Indeed has a section specifically for companies that are hiring positions that don’t require a high school diploma.  They have international sites as well, so I would imagine that those have the same sections.  I would also go to restaurants, stores, bars, groceries, etc. in your area and see if they’re willing to hire you.  A lot of companies will say that they have a policy about how much education they require, but in reality they need workers and are willing to take what they can get.

Another option is to work online.  Some possibilities in that realm include freelance writing, transcribing or translating, moderating, virtual assistant, market researcher/survey taker, telephone mystery shopper, telephone interviewer, telemarketer, data entry, call reviewers, website testing, and chat agent. It will probably take a bit of applying to lots of websites and seeing what works, but there are a lot of opportunities out there and they may be worth pursuing.  If you have a lot of time on your hands, there are tons of websites that will teach you tech-related skills like programming, graphic design, and UX/UI design.  Those fields have a ton of remote positions available, don’t really care about your education, and can be very lucrative if you’re good at it.  It may be worth working on developing those skills.

As far as writing goes, it’s really just practice.  If you’re interested in creative writing, a writing prompt challenge can be a good way to start.  Basically, you get a different prompt each day and have to write on that topic.  It’s a good way to get practice even if you’re creatively uninspired, and it doesn’t take a ton of time or resources.  If you’re interested in nonfiction and journalism, there are a lot of resources online that can teach you those skills- try here, here, here, and here for some resources.

I hope at least some of this is helpful to you.  Let me know if there’s anything more I can help you figure out.

[captaindibbzy]

Two things that have been on my mind lately are

1. The degree to which one must financially compensate for being single

2. How a simple life is almost considered a ridiculous expense, particularly for the disabled.

Like, this comes down to a very simple life goal.

I want to own a 2 bedroom cottage, with a small garden, where I can live for the rest of my life. Like, I'm not talking loads of land, or a huge house with many bedrooms. A room for me, a room for guests that can double as a craft room. I can keep pets, like chickens and dogs. A kitchen that is mine.

I want to be able to eat nice food. I want to be able to wear nice clothes. I want to be able to have a hobby I enjoy, and company, and friends.

Along side this house I would like to be financially stable enough to occasionally go on a nice holiday somewhere quiet.

In order to be financially stable enough for this house by myself I can't settle for a "low end" job. Houses like this start at about £200,000. A mortgage is usually 4 or 5 times the annual salary of the people getting it.

When you are buying a house with two people this instantly boosts your available buying power by 2 if you are both employed. As an aroace partnership isn't something I want. I have to financially compensate for this.

So in order to afford that house with a garden I am instantly looking at needing a salary of £40,000 a year.

Data Entry tails off at about £25,000 a year for example.

My last job I lost was £21,000.

Because I am aware of my limitations I have to put in place a few limits to stop myself from making myself sick trying to keep up with the ableds.

This job can not be more than 40 hours a week, and ideally will be less as working that much will make me sick. No more than 8 hours in a single day for the same reason. I can not start too early in the day or finish too late at night because I require 9 hours in which to realistically rest, and still need time to do Life Things like eat, but also I can not drive so Travel Things cause commute is not paid. At least 1 hour in the evening to realistically sit and exist without having to do something is quite important for mental health. So I can't do things like start at 8am and finish at 6.

And it all adds up doesn't it? In order to have what is ultimately a very modest life where I can look after my health I can break it down two ways.

I need a career that will give me enough money to live and will give me adequate time to rest.

Or to put it in actual physical terms.

A job that will pay me more than £40,000 a year (not accounting for inflation), while letting me work less than 40 hours a week (8 hours a day).

And doesn't that sound like I want too much?

[winterrose42]

This is something that frustrated me with the first job I ever had. I, fresh out of highschool/tech school, very much knew what I was doing in a lab, and after three months of training was very good at what I did and went above and beyond a lot of times to catch up on things. Mostly cleaning and organization, data entry, piddly scut work that I could fill my night with to keep busy. I knew how to do lab math, I knew how to properly use lab equipment, I was a pretty decent chemist and I could work quickly and accurately. All equating to...virtually nothing because I was the newbie. Which my boss just lived to rub in my face.

He was the lab supervisor, promoted to that position by luck and suck I'm sure, also head engineer and whatever other titles he decided to type before his name to sound important. He was very good at computer work and analysis, bit everything he was supposed to be in charge of he knew next to nothing about. I and the other lab employees would constantly have to explain very basic chemical concepts to him that anyone in his position ought to know. My coworker once has to explain to him that yes, although half the bath did spray across the floor, no, the concentration of that bath did not change, and by using the dilution factor we could just add back the chemistry and then fill it up to level with water and it would be fine. Argued this point for two hours before she had to explain the concept to him using apple juice as an example. That if you drink half a glass the juice doesn't taste any different because the level went down, not the concentration.

My coworker would have been a great supervisor, necermind seniority she just knew what she was doing as far as distributing tasks, organizing a multitude of different things and so forth. My boss would have been a great computer person, analyzing data, logging whatever in to the programs he could run with ease. Companies would do much better money and stress wise if they would promote for the skill, not even skill level, bit individual skill a person has, rather than how long a person has been working and how much they're willing to beg for the position.

I'm sorry to add on to your rant, I realize this is your vent but I just needed to state that I completely understand and empathize with the amount of stupidity companies promote within the work place.

One of the greatest enduring failures of the modern capitalist work landscape is that, almost without fail, access to a specific type of job is limited almost exclusively to people who are very good at some other, unrelated job. 

People who are good at working entry-level jobs get promoted into roles that have nothing to do with the jobs they are good at, while people who would actually be good at a particular role cannot break into it because they’re not particularly good at the entry-level tasks. 

Companies have this bizarre tendency to view career development as some kind of linear progression, like employees are pokemon that can be leveled up and evolved, and it just…what? Who in the world thought that was a good system? I might be a fantastic widget maker, able to make widgets very quickly, but that doesn’t mean I know a good goddamn thing about managing a team. Meanwhile, the guy next to me might be a genius at project management and so gd clumsy he takes an hour to make each widget. 

It’s so dumb.