#this is giving me second-hand anxiety

[frecklystars]

I’m at my theater job rn and it’s my first shift all by myself. Super nervous!!! But I’m planning to make!!!! hundreds of dollars!!!! so I can!!!! buy myself a cameo for my birthday!!!!! (That’s the hope anyway lol) wish me luck!!!!!

[hjartasalt]

Honestly it is a bit crazy to me how at 22 I am at a very typical age for someone seeking an OCD diagnosis despite having spent like half my life in therapy why is this disorder so massively underdiagnosed

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 19, 2021 12:15 a.m. star noraebang

song in queue: man & woman - kim bum soo w/ park sun joo ✨

[invece-sto-sdraiato]

jan peteh honey pls commit any food crime you want, just tie up those luscious locks pretty pls

[clawsextended]

on a note to all: my plotting style is something i like to call i have adhd and if i see you on the dash and have an idea chances are i’ll im you about it. i’m an anxious little dude who isn’t always active in a broad scope, and it’s always been my nature to reach out to people. that doesn’t make me even remotely anxious. not even remotely expected to answer me — i totally get it, sometimes you don’t feel the vibe — but a general psa about how i work. i come from the dinosaur era where the only way to communicate with one another on any level was to directly talk to them and frankly i don’t even know how else you’re ever supposed to plot with a person otherwise. like… how do you write if you never talk????

[stardestroyer81]

A couple of months ago, I showcased what Mega Man would look like in the toony artstyle of Pizza Tower, though since then I've wondered something... what would Peppino Spaghetti look like had he been drawn by Mega Man illustrators Keiji Inafune and Ryuji Higurashi?

The answer is a little something like this! 🍕✨

[destinyandcoins]

fuck anyone who tries to sneer at needing background music or an audio book or whatever to concentrate. human beings have been using storytelling and music to pass the time while they Accomplish A Task for literally all of human history, and it is in fact one of the distinguishing traits of humanity that allowed us to get this far.

sorry if I need to listen to a podcast while plugging these numbers into a spreadsheet, linda, it's just that the hunk of soft tissue firing millions of electrical impulses a minute to animate my entire body can't distinguish between this tedious task and the slow mind numbing process of chipping a rock into the desired tool that I need to more efficiently hunt or make fire and allow me to evolve from survival to a conscious appreciation for life and the wonders of imagination

[vanyaliful]

are other countries having the Bedbug crisis or is this just French Armageddon

[gaycousinlarry]

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[morningstorywhatstheglory]

Bout to watch these Oscars with the free trial of FUBO

[7hefear]

"always reblog art, likes do nothing!!!" "liking a post but not reblogging is telling the op that you dont like their post" "dont you dare like my post if you dont reblog" you dont like heart sticker? ❤️❤️??

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

if you ever see me doing something else w maxwell and wigfrid and you find yourself saying "wow she's doing another thing w maxwell and wigfrid?" or even "wow shes like the maxwell and wigfrid guy", this phenomenon can be explained very simply:

writing maxwell is like. writing wigfrid but if wigfrid was actually cool. also mind ur business

[oldmaniel]

I am only on Ep.2 and god Helen and Dale have a grip on my heart already I would die for them both

also how Helen has Dale immediately clocked as a bi bottom while everyone still thinks they are dating... like yeah dude is obvs not straightTM.

and their friendship is magic. fucking sunshine rainbows right there. friend goals is what I am saying.

[terresdebrume]

.

[the-kipsabian]

got two more jobs i need to apply for. then the montly quota is filled and i can start hunting down four more for next month yay 🙃

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was working at the sex shop I was pulling poverty wages. I loved my job but I was on food stamps and still barely getting by. When they hired the stores first male employee and he started at my pay rate after I’d been there for three years I quit.

I was initially really nervous when I saw the post for the mattress job. It listed a pay scale that I couldn’t even conceptualize and I appeared qualified. When I got an interview I was over the moon but also petrified. Reactions to my line of work often varied but most people were very embarrassed or skeptical. I worried about how I’d address it in the actual interview.

I lived far to the north of their headquarters and drove almost two hours to get there. When I finally arrived it was in the nicest thrift store clothes I could find, but I shrank inside to see a room full of older white men in nice suits waiting to be interviewed for the same job.

Why did I bother? I was decades younger than anyone else in the room, shabbily dressed, and I suspected I was the only afab person in the entire building. I stewed in my insecurities until I was called in.

The second I met my interviewer I was instantly put at ease. The man had the energy of a therapy dog, he was abound with positive, good natured energy. He was also incredibly beautiful. I grinned back at his welcoming smile as we said our pleasantries. But still. This very beautiful polished man seemed very innocent. How would the sex shop question go?

“I see here you worked at STORE?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly.

“And that was sales? Or you just rang people up.”

“No, it was sales. I’d help people find products, we were encouraged to upsell, there was sales spiffs, and most importantly we educated customers on products to help them find what they liked best.”

He grinned approvingly and asked, “Can you give me an example of a time you successfully upsold a customer?”

I paused, wringing my hands before I asked, “How vague would you like me to be…?”

“Not at all!” He assured me. “Go for it!”

“Well. A man came in looking for something to make his fingers vibrate so when he was touching his wife it would enhance that sensation. We had cheap $10 cockrings that I showed him first. But we had a rechargeable waterproof one made of nicer material, and after I showed him a demo he bought that one.”

“How much was that one?”

“$110”

“Wow! You had an upsell of 100% from what he came in looking for! That’s incredible!”

He was so truly genuinely stoked and not at all embarrassed that for the first time I saw a tiny glimmer of a future where I didn’t have ramen and peanut butter tiding me over between paychecks.

He asked me to wait then came back to tell me he liked me so much that he wanted to send me right into another interview, if that was okay. He didn’t want me to have to drive back later, it was terribly considerate and exciting. I beamed and told him it would be lovely.

I then had the second worst interview I’ve ever had. The worst goes to the time I applied to be a store manager for a pet food place years later. The district and store manager interviewing me passed notes and texted while I was speaking. When the district manager called to inform me I didn’t get the job I told him I’d never have accepted anyway because I’d never had such a disrespectful interview.

The new man sitting behind the desk radiated an aura of a brick wall. As someone with anxiety I’m highly keyed into the emotional states of people I’m talking to. To receive no feedback at all was my personal hell. After a perfunctory greeting he asked me with no inflection to sell him a pen.

I gathered the shreds of my courage and attempted the Herculean task he’d set me. Through my whole improvised spiel he resisted all attempts at engaging him, regarding me with a cold apathy as I touted the benefits of my fictitious pen.

Halfway through I broke into a cold sweat. My smile didn’t waver but it grew strained as I projected friendliness and warmth into the black hole of his heart. My thoughts scattered and my sales pitch grew redundant in the face of his nothingness. I finally concluded with a hard close and he simply nodded.

He glanced at my resume and commented, “You didn’t ask me to touch or hold it. Though I suppose I can understand from your previous line of work why you wouldn’t.” I shriveled and died inside knowing that I encouraged people to touch dildos all day long and had been too frazzled to offer him the pen.

He bid me a cool farewell. I made it to my car before I started sobbing. I had never been so rattled. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to make him so unfriendly or if my threadbare clothes were what had made him treat me like dirt. I drove an hour and a half to get home, weeping intermittently.

I was therefore taken by complete surprise to receive a call the next day inviting me on board for their five week training program. The first man who’d interviewed me gushed on the phone about how the second guy had loved me and that I was going to be fantastic.

I was in shock. When I showed up to training the second interviewer was charming my new classmates, beaming and laughing. He was an utterly different person. To my dismay I learned he was the trainer for my district and would be my point of contact if I made it through training.

He joked with me later that his interview facade was just a tactic to see how people held up under pressure and I filed him into a category of my deepest enmity. I never forgave him for how small he made me feel that day, but I never showed him the depths of my fury.

I aced every test and went on to be valedictorian of the eight people who had survived the rigorous training process to earn a sales position. When I got my first paycheck I bought myself new clothes, the first non-thrifted things I’d owned in years.