My last post went over surprisingly well, that said you should check out my new subreddit Talesofzippy for more content, because I'm definitely going to posting in more places around reddit and I'll be cross posting them in the tales sub for more people to enjoy!
With that, I don't remember any good stories about Zippy, but the place I work at is fucking filled with loonies, so tonight I'm going to introduce you to Katniss.
Katniss is about 63, tiny, and absolutely loved to talk about how good her guns are, even if she can't shoot or generally understand how they work. She tried to tell me that her Girsan was a high quality gun because the barrel is pinned in place.
I'm a competitive shooter, I grew up shooting and learning about guns.
When a pistol fires a round, a floating barrel will be pointed at an upward angle at the end of the stroke, while a pinned barrel doesn't. The floating barrel doesn't effect accuracy in any meaningful way because it is held in place by several seers, and doesn't begin to move until well after the bullet is out of the gun.
I tried to explain that, she didn't listen. She also can't shoot. Katniss.
She also wears boomer shirts about "snowflakes" and shares memes about the good old days when you could say whatever you want and be offensive.
This gets funny later.
Katniss and I worked together running gas pumps, and we generally got along great, in fact for a year I considered her to be a friend.
And then my dad killed himself.
I got the call at work and got a ride home as quickly as possible. Katniss was on shift with me and Yawn, who is the most chill person you can imagine.
They were incredible, Katniss broke into my apartment (at my request) and took my shotgun for safe keeping. She also took my keys and made me wait for a family friend to pick me up.
I called the night manager and told him I was going home and why, He offered me a ride.
I came into work three days later and stuck my head into my boss (Elk Daddy's) office. He simply said "how long do you need?"
"Two weeks."
"Okay."
I mention this because Anything less than this is a cancerous work environment. If a manager tries to negotiate with you when you've experienced a true tragedy, they're not a manager, they're a slave driver.
I had severe PTSD, nightmares, the whole shabang, for months I would stand at the desk and hear my mom's voice telling me my dad was dead, the first night back at work I witnessed some dumb janitorial drama (not zippy) and I started smelling the sickly sweet smell of human brain before I ran home and had my first panic attack.
(I'll tell the story of Elk Daddy, and make good on a promise I made my dad as a bonus at the end.)
Six months passed, my PTSD wasn't even beginning to heal, and she pulled me aside.
"Okay. It's time to stop now."
"Stop what?"
"This, you're in a rut, and you need to get out of it. It's high time you moved on and stopped being sad and moved on. See my sister was in a car accident and went into a coma when I was about 20, and I had a dream about her getting up and walking out of her hospital room and saying "it's about fucking time." The next day her heart gave out and she finally died. It was this freeing thing for me, because I felt like she was finally free of the broken body and the pain."
"Katniss I just don't feel like I'm... There yet. I'm still hurting, and I really don't feel like I'm ready to let him go. Things aren't that easy."
She didn't like that answer.
At the time I just felt broken, and just laid there and took it, but today I'm genuinely angry about it.
I was hurt, and now that I've rebuilt myself I realized how truly broken I was as a person.
She had no right to say anything to me about how it was time to stop. I'm still healing four years on.
That was when we stopped being friends.
Last year I was going through stickers for our local pride, the second one our community has ever had! I had come out as bi the year before, and had a side project that had grown large enough to have a booth at the local event. I was showing off some cool and funny stickers to Yawn, another cashier.
Yawn is great, he has no blood pressure, everything is just really cool and chill, and he really just wanted to be friends with everyone.
Genuinely nice person. I always get him a Christmas gift and he's always grateful, no matter what it is.
I turned around and handed a sticker to Katniss that said "be gay, so crime" with a little picture of a fabulous criminal goose on it.
She took one look at it and just went "No" rather forcefully, so I just backed off and moved on.
The next day my boss, Elk Daddy, calls me over.
"Op, you handed Katniss a sticker yesterday, and I just want to tell you. Stop talking to her. Please. For me."
"She really complained about that?"
"No, she threatened to go to HR because you "assumed her orientation" and tried to give her a sticker."
It is at this point that I'd like to add that Elk Daddy is gay. Like... Really gay. Him and his husband both donate their time and money to pride, and have been instrumental in making it happen. They are the gay uncles that stepped up to be dads for their nephews when Elk Daddy's brother couldn't.
He knows Katniss, and both of us know her HUSBAND.
So. We didn't talk outside of necessary conversations, and haven't really said anything to each other for any reason.... Until I transferred to my current department and ran out of pens.
I walked over to the cashier desk "hey Katniss, can I get a handful of pens? I ran out."
"I gave three to morning shift last night, what happened to those?"
"I don't know, and it doesn't matter, can I get some?"
Yawn walked over to the drawer where we keep the pens and opened it, while Katniss sighs and opens up her drawer and drops a pen on the counter.
"Come on Katniss, I need more than that."
"I don't have that many pens, they're not giving them to us, here, this is all I have."
She angrily throws down two more pins on the counter as Yawn retrieves an entire box of pens from the drawer and begins walking over. She sees him and motions for him to stop."
"Don't fucking bullshit me Katniss, I see Yawn with the box. Just give me some pens."
She drops six more down on the counter, I take them and walk off. "Thank you."
Ten minutes later she comes over to the deli and slams a box of pens down on the counter for me
"Don't ask me for pens again."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
She then told the MOD that I cussed her out. I told my side, and several people in the management chain pointed out that she wore tee shirts under her uniform that said more offensive things, one of them even saying "don't fucking bullshit me."
She is no longer allowed to wear her tee shirts.
She's also had it pointed out to her that she says "don't fucking bullshit me" all the time, and management has gently reminded her that she should not swear.
A few weeks ago she very dejectedly told me that she was done trying to help people, and I had to bite back a "good, we don't need it."
And here we are... End of another post about the weird boomers I work with.
BONUS STORIES!
As for Elk Daddy.
My boss has only ever taken his husband out hunting one time. When they did, they ended up trekking across the country on deer trails and through the brush. After 12 hours of being dragged through the brush and not shooting anything, his husband said something to the effect of "I hate this. I can't keep up with you and you just disappear all the goddamn time." He took my boss's phone, logged in, and yells "in fact HEY SIRI, FROM NOW ON CALL ME ELK DADDY."
nickname earned. He has it monogramed on his wallet.
And finally, my dad, who was another Boomer, used to love taking me out camping.
He was an electrical engineer, and was most certainly on the spectrum. He was brilliant in his own way, but absolutely unhinged when it came to teaching things.
A lecture from my dad could cover cleaning the stove (with diagrams on proper wiping techniques) to the finer points of building and firing a nuclear weapon. (With math included. No mercy.)
He tried to teach me calculus when I was six. It didn't work.
Anyway, on this particular camping trip he pulled me aside and said "op, I want you to make me a fire using nothing but two sticks, your knife, a match and the chainsaw"
Now. I knew where he was coming from, he wanted me to make a fuzz stick. I knew because he had only brought up the topic of making a fuzz stick every night for the past three days of camping. He then very helpfully added "and the chainsaw is a distraction."
Uh huh. Okay dad.
I Start cutting up the wood and making a teepee fire, and I hear a little "hmph" I look up and I see the smile. The grin he used to get as he started planning one of his little lectures. He was picking out the right words, deciding if he needed to demonstrate or just use a pen and paper.
I then opened up the gas tank on the chainsaw, dumped in a tablespoon of gas, lit the match and "whoof"
Fire.
Then the argument began.
"I said you couldn't use gas!"
"You said I could use the chainsaw, that includes the gas tank!"
"The chainsaw was a distraction!"
"Still gave it to me!"
"You cheated!!!"
"How?"
Long pause.
"I won, admit it. I beat you in a way you didn't expect. You will never live this down. I'll tell this story at your funeral!"
And I did. Three years later I tore up my hastily scribbled notes and told a group of the friends, neighbors and coworkers that he knew and loved about the time I finally beat him. We laughed.
I think he'd be proud, and a little indignant.
I miss you dad.

My last post went over surprisingly well, that said you should check out my new subreddit Talesofzippy for more content, because I'm definitely going to posting in more places around reddit and I'll be cross posting them in the tales sub for more people to enjoy!
With that, I don't remember any good stories about Zippy, but the place I work at is fucking filled with loonies, so tonight I'm going to introduce you to Katniss.
Katniss is about 63, tiny, and absolutely loved to talk about how good her guns are, even if she can't shoot or generally understand how they work. She tried to tell me that her Girsan was a high quality gun because the barrel is pinned in place.
I'm a competitive shooter, I grew up shooting and learning about guns.
When a pistol fires a round, a floating barrel will be pointed at an upward angle at the end of the stroke, while a pinned barrel doesn't. The floating barrel doesn't effect accuracy in any meaningful way because it is held in place by several seers, and doesn't begin to move until well after the bullet is out of the gun.
I tried to explain that, she didn't listen. She also can't shoot. Katniss.
She also wears boomer shirts about "snowflakes" and shares memes about the good old days when you could say whatever you want and be offensive.
This gets funny later.
Katniss and I worked together running gas pumps, and we generally got along great, in fact for a year I considered her to be a friend.
And then my dad killed himself.
I got the call at work and got a ride home as quickly as possible. Katniss was on shift with me and Yawn, who is the most chill person you can imagine.
They were incredible, Katniss broke into my apartment (at my request) and took my shotgun for safe keeping. She also took my keys and made me wait for a family friend to pick me up.
I called the night manager and told him I was going home and why, He offered me a ride.
I came into work three days later and stuck my head into my boss (Elk Daddy's) office. He simply said "how long do you need?"
"Two weeks."
"Okay."
I mention this because Anything less than this is a cancerous work environment. If a manager tries to negotiate with you when you've experienced a true tragedy, they're not a manager, they're a slave driver.
I had severe PTSD, nightmares, the whole shabang, for months I would stand at the desk and hear my mom's voice telling me my dad was dead, the first night back at work I witnessed some dumb janitorial drama (not zippy) and I started smelling the sickly sweet smell of human brain before I ran home and had my first panic attack.
(I'll tell the story of Elk Daddy, and make good on a promise I made my dad as a bonus at the end.)
Six months passed, my PTSD wasn't even beginning to heal, and she pulled me aside.
"Okay. It's time to stop now."
"Stop what?"
"This, you're in a rut, and you need to get out of it. It's high time you moved on and stopped being sad and moved on. See my sister was in a car accident and went into a coma when I was about 20, and I had a dream about her getting up and walking out of her hospital room and saying "it's about fucking time." The next day her heart gave out and she finally died. It was this freeing thing for me, because I felt like she was finally free of the broken body and the pain."
"Katniss I just don't feel like I'm... There yet. I'm still hurting, and I really don't feel like I'm ready to let him go. Things aren't that easy."
She didn't like that answer.
At the time I just felt broken, and just laid there and took it, but today I'm genuinely angry about it.
I was hurt, and now that I've rebuilt myself I realized how truly broken I was as a person.
She had no right to say anything to me about how it was time to stop. I'm still healing four years on.
That was when we stopped being friends.
Last year I was going through stickers for our local pride, the second one our community has ever had! I had come out as bi the year before, and had a side project that had grown large enough to have a booth at the local event. I was showing off some cool and funny stickers to Yawn, another cashier.
Yawn is great, he has no blood pressure, everything is just really cool and chill, and he really just wanted to be friends with everyone.
Genuinely nice person. I always get him a Christmas gift and he's always grateful, no matter what it is.
I turned around and handed a sticker to Katniss that said "be gay, do crime" with a little picture of a fabulous criminal goose on it.
She took one look at it and just went "No" rather forcefully, so I just backed off and moved on.
The next day my boss, Elk Daddy, calls me over.
"Op, you handed Katniss a sticker yesterday, and I just want to tell you. Stop talking to her. Please. For me."
"She really complained about that?"
"No, she threatened to go to HR because you "assumed her orientation" and tried to give her a sticker."
It is at this point that I'd like to add that Elk Daddy is gay. Like... Really gay. Him and his husband both donate their time and money to pride, and have been instrumental in making it happen. They are the gay uncles that stepped up to be dads for their nephews when Elk Daddy's brother couldn't.
He knows Katniss, and both of us know her HUSBAND.
So. We didn't talk outside of necessary conversations, and haven't really said anything to each other for any reason.... Until I transferred to my current department and ran out of pens.
I walked over to the cashier desk "hey Katniss, can I get a handful of pens? I ran out."
"I gave three to morning shift last night, what happened to those?"
"I don't know, and it doesn't matter, can I get some?"
Yawn walked over to the drawer where we keep the pens and opened it, while Katniss sighs and opens up her drawer and drops a pen on the counter.
"Come on Katniss, I need more than that."
"I don't have that many pens, they're not giving them to us, here, this is all I have."
She angrily throws down two more pins on the counter as Yawn retrieves an entire box of pens from the drawer and begins walking over. She sees him and motions for him to stop."
"Don't fucking bullshit me Katniss, I see Yawn with the box. Just give me some pens."
She drops six more down on the counter, I take them and walk off. "Thank you."
Ten minutes later she comes over to the deli and slams a box of pens down on the counter for me
"Don't ask me for pens again."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
She then told the MOD that I cussed her out. I told my side, and several people in the management chain pointed out that she wore tee shirts under her uniform that said more offensive things, one of them even saying "don't fucking bullshit me."
She is no longer allowed to wear her tee shirts.
She's also had it pointed out to her that she says "don't fucking bullshit me" all the time, and management has gently reminded her that she should not swear.
A few weeks ago she very dejectedly told me that she was done trying to help people, and I had to bite back a "good, we don't need it."
And here we are... End of another post about the weird boomers I work with.
BONUS STORIES!
As for Elk Daddy.
My boss has only ever taken his husband out hunting one time. When they did, they ended up trekking across the country on deer trails and through the brush. After 12 hours of being dragged through the brush and not shooting anything, his husband said something to the effect of "I hate this. I can't keep up with you and you just disappear all the goddamn time." He took my boss's phone, logged in, and yells "in fact HEY SIRI, FROM NOW ON CALL ME ELK DADDY."
nickname earned. He has it monogramed on his wallet.
And finally, my dad, who was another Boomer, used to love taking me out camping.
He was an electrical engineer, and was most certainly on the spectrum. He was brilliant in his own way, but absolutely unhinged when it came to teaching things.
A lecture from my dad could cover cleaning the stove (with diagrams on proper wiping techniques) to the finer points of building and firing a nuclear weapon. (With math included. No mercy.)
He tried to teach me calculus when I was six. It didn't work.
Anyway, on this particular camping trip he pulled me aside and said "op, I want you to make me a fire using nothing but two sticks, your knife, a match and the chainsaw"
Now. I knew where he was coming from, he wanted me to make a fuzz stick. I knew because he had only brought up the topic of making a fuzz stick every night for the past three days of camping. He then very helpfully added "and the chainsaw is a distraction."
Uh huh. Okay dad.
I Start cutting up the wood and making a teepee fire, and I hear a little "hmph" I look up and I see the smile. The grin he used to get as he started planning one of his little lectures. He was picking out the right words, deciding if he needed to demonstrate or just use a pen and paper.
I then opened up the gas tank on the chainsaw, dumped in a tablespoon of gas, lit the match and "whoof"
Fire.
Then the argument began.
"I said you couldn't use gas!"
"You said I could use the chainsaw, that includes the gas tank!"
"The chainsaw was a distraction!"
"Still gave it to me!"
"You cheated!!!"
"How?"
Long pause.
"I won, admit it. I beat you in a way you didn't expect. You will never live this down. I'll tell this story at your funeral!"
And I did. Three years later I tore up my hastily scribbled notes and told a group of the friends, neighbors and coworkers that he knew and loved about the time I finally beat him. We laughed.
I think he'd be proud, and a little indignant.
I miss you dad.

Hi Guys- ,
I have a one-year-old new build 3-floor townhouse (2400 sqft) in WA, USA. I am trying to have an AC installed. The house is built already with all duct work (no zoning though), furnace, and AC-ready prep work done. I have the first quote today from a Home Depot referred vendor for Lennox Elite 3.0 ton with 17.4 SEER2 Condenser. I am no expert so I am borrowing his words; he said the house is all read-to-go already as the refrigerant lines are already embedded inside the wall and ready to connect (from where furnace is) to the outside as well as electrical panel / wiring already there by the builder. He said the installation cost will be $14k including new AC, replacing a coil (he said existing one from builder won't work), a composite panel under the AC, and license/paperwork.
From my quick search, the unit itself should be no more than $6k so the remaining cost of $8k seems a bit high just for labor and paperwork, not knowing if it is that much work left if everything is already ready to "plug & play" from what they say. They even said they could get the unit delivered within two days and have it installation completed that day. I am expecting a couple more local vendors who I found from Lennox website who are listed as authorized retailers. So I will try do an apples-to-apples comparison but just wanted to get some idea. Thanks in advance!

The story begins in 1968 on one of the deepest freshwater lakes, crater lake in Washington state. Marc a 23 year old explorer, loved camping fishing just getting away from it all. Marc grew up in a smaller town Moses Lake Washington. Its located off the interstate in between Spokane and Seattle Washington, Marc decided he wanted to go explore the crater Lake area only telling his mother and father where he was headed. “Expect me back in a week” Marc said bags packed loaded into his 2015 ford explorer.
He pulled out of the driveway waving goodbye to his mother. Little did they know this was the last time they would see eachother due to the events about to unfold. Marc jammed his favorite tunes the whole 3 hour trip to crater lake. He was there found his campsite right away, nobody was within a 300 yards of his secluded little spot. He unpacked put up his tent and was ready for a hike.
It was 330 in the afternoon on day 1 of his little vacation. When he took off on a steep rugged trail that made its way around the lake. Marc never was one to stay on the beaten path as he liked to explore and go places not many others have ever gone. After getting his fill of sights and feeling exhausted and hungry. Marc decided it was time to make his way back to camp. He made dinner drank a few beers that he enjoyed while camping and turned in for the night.
It was a quiet night and Marc found himself fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, The next morning Marc was up early made some breakfast and packed a lunch for the long eventful day ahead. His plan being to go off the beaten path again and find some little streams to fish along the way. Marc hiked about 3-4 hours off the main trail and found a beautiful crystal clear brook with rapids flowing into some deeper holes.
Perfect for catching brook trout and that he did. using a panther Martin black with yellow dots and a silver spoon to mimic baitfish and it was the color that was always his go to. It wasn’t but his second cast and a nice 1lb brookie nailed his spinner and put up a little fight before Marc landed it and immediately gutted it and stored it away. Brook trout are one of best eating trout. Marc continued to climb up the stream to higher elevations hitting hole after home along the way.
The day went by quick as it was nearing dusk and Marc had caught 12 nice sized brook trout and a couple little cutthroat as well. Plenty to make a good 3 meals out of. Geared with only a flashlight and his pack fishing pole and fish cleaning supplies Marc made his way of what he thought was the way back out towards his camp.
Checking his watch on his phone Marc seen it was 11pm pitch black dark out now and he realized he had been walking long enough that he shoulda recognized some landmarks or where he had made his way in, but he didn’t recognize anything and with it being dark out he was even more lost.
Without panicking Marc decided to set up a little camp where he was. under some big pine trees surrounding the whole area next to another little stream that he stumbled into. Giant boulders made for a nice cover to keep himself tucked away in case any large animals might have passed by looking for a meal. Marc was aware he was in bear country as well as cougar and wolves.
Unable to catch any sleep Marc sat and built a little campfire cooked a few trout ate them and kept the fire stoked until the sun started peeking up over the mountains at around 445 am. As soon as he was ready to get back on track Marc looked around and realized where he was or so he thought. The little stream forked off and hooked around making a horseshoe type shape exactly like the one he had seen on his way in yesterday afternoon.
Marc now excited and in a hurry quickly hiked through the brush mixed in with pine trees away from the streams until he could no longer hear the flow of them. After walking a hood 3 hours Marc was starting to get frustrated that nothing was looking familiar to him again. It was now early afternoon and Marc knew he was lost the terrain looked all so similar and he had ventured actually two times as far away from his original camp.
Unaware of this Marc made his way to another stream and decided to follow it down the mountain hoping it would lead into a lake or maybe crater lake where he was camping. Marc hiked and jogged and was just enjoying the scenery when he stumbled upon an old looking cabin. The trees were really big blocking out most all the light from the sun here and even at about 5pm it seemed like it was getting dark.
Marc was feeling wore down he had hiked close to 35 miles the past two days trying to find his way back out. He decided to go check if the cabin was inhabited he went up yjj ok the door knocked three of four times. But nobody answered. So after about 10 minutes of waiting marc decided to peer into the window and could see some old handmade furniture a wood stove and a few other miscellaneous items on the floor.
It looked like nobody had been here for years like it was an old secret hunting cabin back in the woods that only a few if any people knew about. Marc noticed a little homemade sign on the wall that read lakeshore cabin #41. He tried the door assuming it was locked but it was not. So he went in as the night was creeping in fast. He gathered some wood put in the wood stove cooked up some more trout and was exhausted from no sleep the night before .
Marc used his pack as a pillow curled up in the corner of the living room by the wood stove and was gone into dreamland before he knew it. Marc’s phone battery was in the red line when he had woken up only 18% left. So he decided to write in his phone notes just in case something were to happen to him or he didn’t make it back out. As he was doing this and finishing up he felt like he was being watched. Just had an eerie unsettling feeling of an evil presence nearby.
This gave Marc anxiety so after noting all this in his phone he turned it off to then save energy. His last few words on his phone when it was discovered two years after a missing persons report was filed said im actually feeling scared like I gotta leave now so I’m going to leave the cabin and head west as far as I can before next nightfall. I love you mom and dad and I hope I see you guys soon.
This was the last anyone ever heard of Marc when his phone was found busted up 25 miles away from crater lake under a group of smaller pine trees. No foul play was discovered and not one sign of Marc or his belongings were ever found to this day. Some say he stumbled into a haunted cabin and something evil took him never to be seen again. Others say he just got lost and ran outta food and water and eventually had succumbed to dehydration and the animals cleaned him up. But no bones, pieces of clothing anything was ever found.
Marc’s parents were able to gather his original tent and camping supplies as that had not been messed with up by crater lake. What do you think happened to Marc? Was he abducted, torn to pieces by animals, something paranormal in those woods got him? Another unsolved missing person in the woods story. Where do these people go? What is happening to them?

The story begins in 1968 on one of the deepest freshwater lakes, crater lake in Washington state. Marc a 23 year old explorer, loved camping fishing just getting away from it all. Marc grew up in a smaller town Moses Lake Washington. Its located off the interstate in between Spokane and Seattle Washington, Marc decided he wanted to go explore the crater Lake area only telling his mother and father where he was headed. “Expect me back in a week” Marc said bags packed loaded into his 2015 ford explorer.
He pulled out of the driveway waving goodbye to his mother. Little did they know this was the last time they would see eachother due to the events about to unfold. Marc jammed his favorite tunes the whole 3 hour trip to crater lake. He was there found his campsite right away, nobody was within a 300 yards of his secluded little spot. He unpacked put up his tent and was ready for a hike.
It was 330 in the afternoon on day 1 of his little vacation. When he took off on a steep rugged trail that made its way around the lake. Marc never was one to stay on the beaten path as he liked to explore and go places not many others have ever gone. After getting his fill of sights and feeling exhausted and hungry. Marc decided it was time to make his way back to camp. He made dinner drank a few beers that he enjoyed while camping and turned in for the night.
It was a quiet night and Marc found himself fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, The next morning Marc was up early made some breakfast and packed a lunch for the long eventful day ahead. His plan being to go off the beaten path again and find some little streams to fish along the way. Marc hiked about 3-4 hours off the main trail and found a beautiful crystal clear brook with rapids flowing into some deeper holes.
Perfect for catching brook trout and that he did. using a panther Martin black with yellow dots and a silver spoon to mimic baitfish and it was the color that was always his go to. It wasn’t but his second cast and a nice 1lb brookie nailed his spinner and put up a little fight before Marc landed it and immediately gutted it and stored it away. Brook trout are one of best eating trout. Marc continued to climb up the stream to higher elevations hitting hole after home along the way.
The day went by quick as it was nearing dusk and Marc had caught 12 nice sized brook trout and a couple little cutthroat as well. Plenty to make a good 3 meals out of. Geared with only a flashlight and his pack fishing pole and fish cleaning supplies Marc made his way of what he thought was the way back out towards his camp.
Checking his watch on his phone Marc seen it was 11pm pitch black dark out now and he realized he had been walking long enough that he shoulda recognized some landmarks or where he had made his way in, but he didn’t recognize anything and with it being dark out he was even more lost.
Without panicking Marc decided to set up a little camp where he was. under some big pine trees surrounding the whole area next to another little stream that he stumbled into. Giant boulders made for a nice cover to keep himself tucked away in case any large animals might have passed by looking for a meal. Marc was aware he was in bear country as well as cougar and wolves.
Unable to catch any sleep Marc sat and built a little campfire cooked a few trout ate them and kept the fire stoked until the sun started peeking up over the mountains at around 445 am. As soon as he was ready to get back on track Marc looked around and realized where he was or so he thought. The little stream forked off and hooked around making a horseshoe type shape exactly like the one he had seen on his way in yesterday afternoon.
Marc now excited and in a hurry quickly hiked through the brush mixed in with pine trees away from the streams until he could no longer hear the flow of them. After walking a hood 3 hours Marc was starting to get frustrated that nothing was looking familiar to him again. It was now early afternoon and Marc knew he was lost the terrain looked all so similar and he had ventured actually two times as far away from his original camp.
Unaware of this Marc made his way to another stream and decided to follow it down the mountain hoping it would lead into a lake or maybe crater lake where he was camping. Marc hiked and jogged and was just enjoying the scenery when he stumbled upon an old looking cabin. The trees were really big blocking out most all the light from the sun here and even at about 5pm it seemed like it was getting dark.
Marc was feeling wore down he had hiked close to 35 miles the past two days trying to find his way back out. He decided to go check if the cabin was inhabited he went up yjj ok the door knocked three of four times. But nobody answered. So after about 10 minutes of waiting marc decided to peer into the window and could see some old handmade furniture a wood stove and a few other miscellaneous items on the floor.
It looked like nobody had been here for years like it was an old secret hunting cabin back in the woods that only a few if any people knew about. Marc noticed a little homemade sign on the wall that read lakeshore cabin #41. He tried the door assuming it was locked but it was not. So he went in as the night was creeping in fast. He gathered some wood put in the wood stove cooked up some more trout and was exhausted from no sleep the night before .
Marc used his pack as a pillow curled up in the corner of the living room by the wood stove and was gone into dreamland before he knew it. Marc’s phone battery was in the red line when he had woken up only 18% left. So he decided to write in his phone notes just in case something were to happen to him or he didn’t make it back out. As he was doing this and finishing up he felt like he was being watched. Just had an eerie unsettling feeling of an evil presence nearby.
This gave Marc anxiety so after noting all this in his phone he turned it off to then save energy. His last few words on his phone when it was discovered two years after a missing persons report was filed said im actually feeling scared like I gotta leave now so I’m going to leave the cabin and head west as far as I can before next nightfall. I love you mom and dad and I hope I see you guys soon.
This was the last anyone ever heard of Marc when his phone was found busted up 25 miles away from crater lake under a group of smaller pine trees. No foul play was discovered and not one sign of Marc or his belongings were ever found to this day. Some say he stumbled into a haunted cabin and something evil took him never to be seen again. Others say he just got lost and ran outta food and water and eventually had succumbed to dehydration and the animals cleaned him up. But no bones, pieces of clothing anything was ever found.
Marc’s parents were able to gather his original tent and camping supplies as that had not been messed with up by crater lake. What do you think happened to Marc? Was he abducted, torn to pieces by animals, something paranormal in those woods got him? Another unsolved missing person in the woods story. Where do these people go? What is happening to them?

Motorists have queued for hours to purchase petrol for 99 cents at two Illawarra service stations, inadvertently blocking a pre-school at pick up time in the process.
The promise of petrol for 99 cents, something not seen on price boards since the early 2000s, in the midst of a cost-of-living crisis was the ultimate drawcard on Tuesday afternoon.
Drivers could refuel at the Metro Petroleum station at Figtree for 99.9 cents for two hours between 3pm and 5pm.
Doordash driver Scott Holland had been in line since 2.15pm.
“It’s crazy,” he said, as he approached the roundabout at Uralba Street.
Mr Holland said he spends more than $220 a week on fuel, so the deal was too good to miss.
“Remember back in the 90s, it was 60 cents [a litre] and when it got to 99 cents we said we’d never pay a dollar.
“Look at it now.”
Not everyone was happy to sit in the traffic lines that at some points stretched to the McDonalds on the Princes Highway.
Nearby resident Ray Lonsdale said he couldn’t pick up his children from the nearby public school, with cars already lined up on Murray Road at 2pm.
“It was a dumb move to do it at school time.”
The deal was part of a promotion for a company called DCT – Dreams Come True which offers members discounts and giveaways.
Dreams did not come true for parents and staff at KU Figtree, some of whom had to walk for up to three kilometres to pick up their children and staff were parked in well after finishing work.
Organisers of the promotion said they would reconsider the timing of the discount petrol in future events.
‘If they can do it we can too’ On the other side of the M1, word had gotten out about the deal, and the new owners of Speedway Petroleum on Crown Street decided to get in on the action.
Sid Saliba purchased the petrol station late last year and saw the occasion as a good way to give back to the community.
“We heard about the other company doing it so we might as well match it,” he said.
“If they can do it, we can do it [too].”
Mr Saliba said he was selling the petrol at a loss – “everybody knows this price is mad” – but in the hyper-competitive world of petrol pricing and with all prices in the area available on the Fuel Check website, you had to stay ahead of the competition.
At Speedway, petrol was 99.0 cents.

You make pretty regrettable mistakes when you're desperate. Unfortunately, desperation would go on to cost me much more than I ever thought possible.
When I was 19 years old my financial situation wasn't great. In what was left of a crumbling home would be my recovering addict twin sister, and myself. The unfortunate state of our home was all from the even more unfortunate passing of our parents just five years prior. The two hadn't died tragically by any means, thankfully. No.. our parents died of old age, a consequence of having us kids later in life, while not being able to take on the financial burden that would be.. us.
My sister was making the early steps into the college lifestyle, doing her best to stay afloat with my support in funding. Money was tight for the two of us, but as she became more well off on her own, the more content she was with severing the last remaining tie to her childhood.. me.
I didn't hate Xel for her decision, if anything I understood her distancing from this life.. even if it saddened me. So then it was just me! Left to a house with a hole in the ceiling. Believe it or not, life wasn't all to bad even with how considerably down in the dumps it otherwise seemed to be.
However, content as I might have been, it's human nature to want more than you have. Can't say I was to greedy to look for some comfortability in my own home..
And so there it was! The glistening letters of ink outlining my salvation. An advertisement I'd found plastered onto the wall of the small booth I sat at while I waited for the bus to carry me off to work. "$5,000 to those compatible for a recent scientific breakthrough." Under any 'normal' circumstances I would consider this a scam. Hell, I was skeptical as I scanned the letters. Had I been told of this opportunity through spam call or text I would've glossed right over it just as anyone else would have.. but I was desperate.
I think it was the fact that someone, some real person had to have put this paper up on this wall gave me some glimmer of hope for a quick cash grab. Listed bellow the promise of money was details for a number to call regarding interest in the proposition.
I took the bait.. I saw the line, and like some idiot I clamped my teeth down just for that hook to sweep me away.
The corporation I'd come to know as, "The Arsaction," would see me just a week later. There was a brief consultation. They took my weight, age, all things I would've expected. It wasn't until they pulled records regarding my familial situation that I began to find this whole ordeal.. suspicious.
To 'begin' to find things suspicious only at this point is foolish, something I full understand, but I feel the need to reinforce the fact that I, Lex McKarthy, was desperate.
Everything by this point seemed pretty legit. The blood tests, the doctors office, the tests were.. reasonable. What was I to suspect? Everything was so vague, and truth be told I honestly didn't even expect anything to come of this visit. All the doctors, all the consultants seemed so disinterested in my features.. but when they realized I had no one, everything seemed to change.
Suddenly ears perked, suddenly doors closed, suddenly I was.. exactly what they were looking for. Every feature of myself was so painfully average. I was anyman, I was.. nothing. Despite their best efforts to be discreate, I knew it was only the fact that nobody would come looking for me that peaked their interests.
My stomach dropped when I was faced with a pen in my hand, trembling over that NDA. Every fiber of me cursed myself for never considering putting just a minute of research into 'The Arsaction,' however a video briefing would ease my nerves. Nobody knew who The Arsaction was. There was no public record of their existence, and that NDA would make sure that they continued to never exist.
I was stupid, I was irrational, I was in over my head! But I was desperate.. and I had nothing else.
"I have nothing else.. I have nothing else!"
It was a mantra I chanted as I was injected with that substance. The substance that turned my blood orange, made my skin freakishly thin.
And then I went home.
That was it. I was given my sum of money, and I was sent home. They told me I was, "good to go," and no number of questions would get a one of them to speak. I was only met with who I'd assume to be security guiding me out of the building.
Not a word more of what I'd just been injected with, only given instructions to not dwell on mirrors for too long. That was it, just some ominous instructions. So I left, as befuddled as I arrived. Relief washed over me as I made my way home. The anxiety I'd received from such an ominous buildup was all waved by the fact that I was somehow just.. good to go?
Relief quickly turned to panic as the inherent nature of it all being too good to be true set in. I expected to die, I expected some visit from government agents, I expected anything and everything, but as months turned to years.. Nothing ever came of it. No mirror ever caused me any harm, which was its own anxiety I'd have to overcome simply because of the absurd nature or such a request.
I hoped it was.. some prank. Everything was well... for a time. Until my sister called.
I just.. watched the phone ring. My sister, someone who I hadn't spoken to in upwards of 8 years was suddenly ringing me up. When I finally had answered, her question left me speechless.
"Hey Lex. would you happen to remember Mom's recipe for that egg toast? I think I left the cookbook at your place."
I felt my ears ring. The question was so.. casual. She entirely skipped the part where we discussed how she's been, how I'm doing. She spoke to me like we'd hung out only days ago.
At the time I'd thought I was just being dramatic, but looking back on it I can only justify my own hesitation to respond.
"W-..what?"
I stammered like a fool, but I was firm in my disbelief.
"Yeah, it should be in the book on the counter?"
I looked over my shoulder to my kitchen counter, past the toaster I never bought, and over to the book she spoke of. My jaw hung heavy, the whole interaction feeling like a dream.
With one hand I held the phone, and with the other I began to skim the pages of the book letting my eyes linger on mom's cinnamon roll recipe for a bit longer than intended.
"Lex.. are you ok?"
My sister inquired on the other end. I suddenly felt sick.. falling the the ground and laying on my back. This wasn't happening. It never did.
"Lex? Are you alright!?"
My sister repeated back more urgently, followed by her assurance that she would be over soon to check on him. But.. no company ever arrived. After hours the line just dropped, and I fell asleep there on that cold, wooden floor, paralyzed with a feeling I couldn't wrap my head around.
This never happened.
I never left.
I woke up in my bed in a cold sweat. I checked the time, greeted with a humble 4:37 in the morning. What troubled me was the fact that the date had been set back 7 years.
Of course it wasn't all so clear to me. After 7 long years I'd honestly forgotten about this day. This was the day that I'd set out for my graciously provided $5,000
7 years of my fucking life.. I would chalk it all up to that.. STUFF that they injected me with.. what was it? Phantom Drive? I could call it all some terrible drug trip, some construct defined by some insane psychedelic, but if that were the case, how was I here now? BEFORE I'd ever taken the drug?
This is a dream. I convinced myself I hadn't miraculously gone back in time, that 7 years of my life weren't a lie, but if that were the case, why was my blood still that damn orangy hue?
I'm losing sleep over this itch in my brain. It's like some taste of blood in my mouth has soured out the idea that letting my eyelids squeeze shut could further obscure my definite understanding of when I stood.
A day I remember so vividly at the ripe age of 14 years old, now 12 years ago, I awoke to the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls filling the air. All was right with the world, all as I climbed from the messy sheets in my dark room. It was abundantly clear that the bulb of the light beside my bed had burnt out over the course of the night, and the closed blinds didn't aid my vision as I stumbled around my room in search of my door.
An oddity presented itself in the fashion of aimless wondering. Where was the nob? One I'd become so accustomed to.. not needing to open? I'd never closed my door. Not the previous night, not ever. Not to the behest of my mother who'd always taken annoyance to closed doors, some trait of my grandmother's to which my mom had unfortunately inherited.
Breakfast took the form of two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, and slightly burnt French-Toast. My previous assumption of cinnamon rolls unfortunately missed the mark, however I wouldn't object to this. I wish I could convince myself that I was wrong. Something so mundane, something so insignificant to the events in this story, however the first notable instance of a curse that I couldn't pinpoint
My mother had already seen herself off to work by this point, and so I was faced with the responsibilities of seeing myself out to the bus. Some routine I'd become far too used to; The minutes passed, leaving me with nothing to do but wait by the door for a buss that would never arrive.
If the door being shut and the cinnamon rolls being a different meal entirely had left me with a minor confusion, then suddenly being seated in the passenger seat of my mother's car listening to the nonchalant complaints from my twin sister about the nuances freshmen year math shot me into a disarray I couldn't possibly quantify.
I think one of the scariest things for me is the fact that I thought nothing of it. I hadn't freaked out. No scene was made to express what should have been one of the more disturbing instances of my childhood.
I could chalk up the mistaking breakfast for something else as me just misremembering events.. But something unmistakable is the fact that somehow my mom both never drove me to school, yet the fact that she.. always had.
If you're confused, I understand. I am too, because the contradicting nature of my memory is something that haunts me to no end.
Things were easier as a child. That's often the case, but ever sense I stopped aging, I've begun to notice the oddities presented by life that are.. inexplainable. I'm not even sure where to start with researching my predicament. Hell, this is reddit! If I couldn't find an answer here, I doubt there is an answer to be found at all.
The Mandela Effect is something that I feel needs no introduction. To those who don't know, the Mandela Effect, in brief, is a phenomenon that incurs when you "misremember" something. Think of a card, now imagine you saw that card as a child and it had a single heart drawn on it's center. Now, years later you are discussing this card with someone else just for them to tell you that the heart you swear, the heart you KNOW you saw.. was a diamond. You tell them they are wrong, you shake your head, chuckle nervously.. But then they present you with the card.
Your stomach drops. This can't be the card, there is no way! Only it is the card, and when you come to the realization that it is in fact the card you'd seen as a child, you are filled with a mix of confusion, fascination, and quite possibly denial.
Most often, the Mandela Effect is associated with silly things like books titles, and board game mascots, but my experience is far beyond such things. It's the only phenomenon I've found that seems even within the realm of explaining my predicament. Problem is, the more I think, the more is wrong.
All of me wishes it all ended with that one childhood experience! But it didn't. In fact, the more I consider my childhood, the more contradictions I notice. Part of me believes I could handle this if it was limited to my childhood, but it's not. This.. experience... It effects my every day!
I'm not losing my mind, I'm just picking up crumbs that I never dropped. Not.. losing my mind, just finding more "mind" than the inventory should account for.

My most recent psychosis occurred due to a number of underlying reasons that I was dealing with over a 6-8 week period and was mostly delusional.
The lead up to it - I had just finished the largest engineering project that I had been working on for two years,. My wife and I were having a very difficult and stressful time, with disagreements all the time.
My body was yelling and screaming for help and I could feel it from deep down inside me. I went to see doctors and psychologists but it didn't do it for me.. A childhood friend then passed away and that tipped me over.. All of a sudden I was placing myself in my friends place and I had all these questions that I had for myself.
I took a few days off work in the hope that it would get better, however, as I returned I just felt exhausted and overcooked. That's when I started to lose it... Note that I wasn't doing any hard drugs at the time, nor was I drinking, but in that upleading week, I was having the occasional nitrous oxide (N20) cannisters.
I went to get my tarot cards read upon returning to work (first time). The lady who conducted the card reading told me to choose the cards when "I feel the energy above the deck".. I actually felt the cards drawing my hand closer to them. I received the following cards, all of which seemed were of major importance to me: (1) Stand your Ground, (2) Hope, (3) Foundation & Achievements, (4) Base Chakra, (5) The Waiting Game, (6) Third Eye Chakra, (7) Love Begins, (8) Spiritual Union, (9) Intuition, (10) Conquer & Defeat.
..That night I went for a walk, I saw a shooting star - it was the first time that I had seen one and was so beautiful. I rushed into tell my wife about the tarot cards and the shooting star.. we both broke down in tears. Later on that evening I would tune into Youtube, and learn more about finance, investing, life, philosophy and music - all of which were major interests in my life.
The next morning I woke up and got ready to go to work. I couldn't help myself but start crying when all of my songs came on. Notorious BIG - Juicy: "Born sinner, the opposite of a winner, remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner".. I had sardines for dinner growing up too, and I could literally taste my mothers sardine dish in my mouth while the song was playing... As I raced onto the highway, it felt as though I was so connected to everything. I rolled the windows down and felt the air around me...The number plates around me "8SAMA" - which I had a feeling that there was going to be a terrorist attack occurring in the not too distant future. "FX Silver" - I was speculating with precious metals back at that time and thought it was a sign that due to the terror attack, silver was going to increase in price. "IDK IDK" - I was listening to the song I don't know by Tion Wayne, Stormzy, etc. the night before my psychosis.. Everything around me was providing me with signs and nothing was a coincidence. It felt like I was enlightened or something?
I called my brother in the morning who lived abroad, he said that he was being overworked and stressed out. He wanted to head to New York for new years eve and I immediately told him not to go as something bad was going to happen. When I went back into the office, I felt as though there would be some kind of market correction before the terror event occured, so I tried to sell all of my crypto, the only problem was, when I entered all of my key seed phrases, one of them somehow disappeared and I could no longer access my crypto wallet. That was when everything cracked further.. I thought the government was onto me as I had put all the pieces of the puzzle together and started to warn people around me.
I grabbed my manager from the office and told him I needed to speak to them. I wanted to come clean with everything that had happened. During this time I felt at peace and in this blissful place. I was seeing visual signs of things from my past which were interacting with my present moment .. it felt like everything around me was staged. I came clean to the manager and told them that I had been struggling at work, and using drugs and alcohol to cope, I said that it also put so much strain on my relationship and my wife was going to leave me. At this time it felt like the police had wire tapped my manager and everything I was saying was going on record. I was trying to outsmart him with every question that they had for me and it was like I was playing 4d chess in my head. We spent close to 2.5 hours talking about my situation -at every stage I was waiting for when the popo were going to pop out and arrest me.
My wife had been contacted and came to pick me up. She took me back home, but while I went home I thought that our house had been bugged and wired. To me our neighbours were acting odd, and so many things were working in my head, I just didn't know how to relax and calm down. The next day I was taken to my parents place, and I initially started by doing a little bit of exercise, I still felt as though the police were after me and I had something to prove to the world. I then had a panic attack, where I legitimately felt as though I couldn't breathe, my wife and family rushed me to the emergency department at the hospital, and I was met with a psychiatrist who put me on a large dose of antipsychotic medication. Don't know where I'd be without my wife to support me through everything.
I then came back and rested. Slowly but surely I started to realise that I had just experienced a psychotic episode that lasted for several days. Following this event, I had a major depressive episode, which took months for me to recover, and approximately one year later I am in a better place mentally, but I am still not 100 %.
It turns out I have a family history of this sort of bullshit that nobody told me about, and being exposed to drugs and alcohol would only increase the risk of any symptoms. I've been off all the drugs and attempting to stop alcohol, and live a more holistic, natural life. Let's see what happens. For anyone dealing newly dealing with it or in the process of recovering, it gets better. Keep your head up.
<3

I’m 18 m, I’m in a relationship with my gf and the last year has been the best year of my life and idk what I’d do without her she’s been an amazing partner that has been able to help me with other issues of mine and has helped me heal from them but my attachment issues and anxiety are just something she can’t help with even though she has tried hard and this is something i realized only I can take care of so I need help. My attachment issues probably stem from my childhood and past relationships I’ve had just about every single one has ended due to my partner at the time cheating, but I’ve moved on from the “them leaving me” part at least being alone after word has help me with that making being alone and having just me for company for certain periods of time isn’t something I struggle with, Ik I can be without my partner for small to large periods of time.
But there’s a part of me that hasn’t recovered the constant feeling of if I’m not with them they’ll stop loving me and I’ll lose them. One minute there with me the next someone has taken them from me and I hate this feeling. Especially now my partner has given me zero reasons to have me feeling like this she has gone above and beyond to prove this wrong and I hate myself for it cause it won’t go away and she doesn’t deserve that. And this cause cause us to fight more and more and looking back on those argument I have no doubt that I’ve become manipulative, to try to get a reaction that proves to me that she’ll stay i realize this so we both thought some time apart would help my issues
But it didn’t it made it worse those thoughts got worse and worse to the point she would get so annoyed and upset that we were spending a lot more time apart then we agreed on and it was so often that we would go a day not talking or won’t sleep together (like actual sleep not sex just to be clear lol don’t want anyone to get confused) at night and she wasn’t falling out of love but she started just not caring anymore. It all came to ahead two days ago when we broke up, we thought it was the best for the both of us and it gave us a chance to actually talk about are feelings. I talk about how I felt and she told me how she felt we talked like this all day yesterday and we both decided we didn’t want to be apart we love each other and want to make things work so that’s what we’re doing. We’re both working on each other to help cause we both realized we can’t be without each other and the time apart just worsened us mentally causing way more then it solved
I want to be better and I want to help her mentally to we’re not together officially again we’re gonna wait till we’re both mentally okay to go officially again. So I need help, I need some tips to help me deal with my issue so I can be better for her. I heard talking to yourself out loud helps so I’ve been doing that but if there’s more that anyone can offer please let me know. I don’t want to lose her so please help

My wife cheated on me four days ago. She went to visit her parents, and while staying there, she went out with some of her childhood friends. They went to a bar and had drinks. There was a guy hitting on her the entire night. One thing led to another, and she had sex with him in his car.
Afterward, she was horrified and scared. She ran to her parents house, where she started panicking and crying, and she told them what she did. Two days ago, she came home and immediately sat me down to confess. I was already stressed from work, so hearing this didn't help. I was enraged. Somehow, I kept my rage in check and asked her to explain. She didn't hide anything, she told me everything in detail. She was crying, but not excessively. I guess she understood that tears wouldn't change anything. She gave me her phone, told me that her parents know, and said that she would like to rebuild trust and our marriage, she will do whatever she needs and whatever I want but also that she will accept whatever I decide.
For the past two days, I have felt nothing but numbness. We barely eat, and we haven't said more than a few words to each other. I sleep in another room, and I don't eat what she prepares. I cook for myself now, and she doesn't like it, it makes her even more sad. She doesn't go out of "our" room, she's mostly crying, talking to herself or reading the internet on what she can do.
Here's what I'm thinking:

1. The easy and probably best solution is divorce. There is no trusting a cheater, and there is nothing she can do to bring back time and return to how things used to be.
2. A somewhat optimistic but painful solution is reconciliation. She came clean on her own, willingly gave up her phone and accounts, and told the same story to her parents, which makes her somewhat trustworthy. Her father messaged me to think about it but said he will understand whatever I decide. She is ready to do whatever she needs to rebuild marriage. I thought about couples counseling, but I'm not sure if I want to go there. I didn't cause this, she did. One person destroyed this, not two.

I don't know what to do here. This was the last thing I needed in my life, but here we are. Is it normal to feel nothing? Right now, I don't feel anything, it's like I don't care anymore.
TL;DR: Wife cheated, confessed, and is willing to rebuild trust. I'm torn between divorce and reconciliation. Feeling numb and unsure about my emotions and future.

Heard at least a minute or two of the back end of a song being the sound of a train, no other music or instruments, with a man crooning in a bluesy voice every so often 'very strange' or 'love is strange'. I can't recall exactly but I remember the word strange. It was very haunting and lonely sounding. This was years ago but it has haunted me and I must know what it is.

I always hated working hospitality as every single hospo job I got was filled with such a toxic environment and I was genuinely unhappy with the work. Retail was where my heart was at, but it was super hard finding a retail job where I lived that would hire without one year plus retail experience. Not to mention that I am a university student so I took whatever means of income I can get to survive although when it came to my mental health, I prioritised that first.
I left my toxic work environment for another hospitality job that hired me really quick and decided to stay here until I managed to find a retail job which was fortunately really quick. I figured that I could work both jobs due to the amount of hours I got from my retail job as I was still starting it out. I have managed to balance two jobs before and it worked out well, plus my boss in my hospo job seemed really understanding and made me feel like I could talk to him about anything as that is what he made it seem like. Boy was I wrong.
I talked to him about not being able to work just one day of the week because of my secondary job which didn't make a difference to the business because when I started, he said that the days I worked could be flexible, plus on my roster, the day that I could not work was not even given to me so I assumed it would be ok and we can work around it. He flipped out on me and told me that I had to choose between one job. I obviously decided on the retail job right then and there because all I did in my hospo job was wash dishes and I was starting to hate it too.
I sent them a two weeks notice that same day and very politely explained the reasons for my departure. The next week I was rostered the one day I could not work due to my other job which I already explained so I called in saying that I will not be able to work as I have said before. On the days where I did go in, he was very cold to me and never spoke a word to me when he usually was making jokes with me. I felt very unwelcomed so I decided to not work the last few days to which he called me unprofessional (I obviously told him that I couldn't work way before my rostered days so he could find a replacement).
I am going to the store to return my uniform tomorrow and I am lowkey scared for the interaction. I know I could have navigated the situation better and gone to work these last couple of days but I genuinely could not stand the work I did, plus the hostile environment from the boss. Should I have gone the last few days and was I actually unprofessional?

I am a psychic medium and I did automatic writing few days ago and it gave me a name Apollo so I was like okay .it was a pretty useless information since I was asking something else . Then after two days , my mom and dad was talking about fittng a pipe from a brand apollo so I was like wow but still this was a pretty useless information . How to get information which I want in automatic writing instead of these random words which make sense after few days and still pretty useless .
Mod please delete this post if it’s not allowed 😊.

Hi all, my partner and I are planning on moving in together in exactly 1 day. We’ve been together on and off for ten years, and for the most part, in my opinion, have been pretty happy for the last year or two. At least, thats what I thought until I found this list in his notes app…
I saw it when checking a list regarding our move on his phone. Its a long long list consisting of reasons why we aren’t going to last. They mostly all pertain to our open relationship (which, I understand he struggles with… I’ve been very very willing to close it if he ever just says the word but he doesn’t) The list is also largely accusatory and puts a lot of blame on me for ~potentially~ doing something hurtful like crossing a boundary (never have) or falling in love with someone else (doubtful I will) It was last edited or made about three days ago, when nothing in particular seemed to happen. I’m hurt that he would keep something like this for.. what? I don’t even understand the point of the note. I have basically upended my life for this move (new job, new school) which has largely been for his benefit, and I’m not going to risk backing out of it, but the timing of all of this has felt like foreshadowing to a rocky start. Should I bring this up with him?

I (23M) have been crushing on a girl coworker (20F) and I cant tell if she likes me. I should start by saying that she seems to be an overall quiet, reserved, almost serious type of person To most people anyways.
We’ve worked at the same place now for almost two years and in that time especially in the last 8 months she has showed some signs that she may like me: she has started some convo’s with me asking about my personal life, has greeted me kindly on ocassion, has said my name out loud once at a random time when walking by, has prolonged 1on1 time, has laughed at jokes, Ive noticed her looking at me from a distance on many occasion’s. I should also add she’s one of only 15 people who follow me on Spotify which she did by her own doing, (sounds very specific, but makes sense with context).
But at the same time she has also done many things that would indicate she doesn’t like me: Her greetings or goodbyes can be very un enthused if any at all, she sometimes pretends like i’m not there when I’m around her, she has at times walked away or gone on her phone immediately in moments we end up 1on1, has given one word subtle careless responses to jokes or questions.
Both sides of this behavior occur frequently at random week to week, since the start. Do you think there’s any chance that she’s really a nice girl that likes me and is being nervous, insecure and protective of her emotions. Or is it really just shes a mean girl that doesn’t really care and is toying with me? Like most would say.
I tend to naturally match her energy by never forcing anything and backing off when shes cold, Whilst being consistently friendly and doing my share of subtle glances and convo starting. At the right times to show I like her.
But If she does actually like me. I fear that, backing off only reinforces her insecurity with me, Thus making her even more cold towards me. Putting the situation in a weird feedback loop.
I should also add:
For both of us there’s “other people” involved. Ive been told some other girls like me, and I have definitely been friendly with those other girls as well (But never in front of the girl I like). those girls are way more direct, consistent and outgoing with me. But I really only care about the girl I like. So i’ve never been anything other than just friendly with them. And I certainly don’t pursue them the same way.
And I know for sure theres other guys that like her and flirt with her, she may or may not be involved with them. I don’t know? But I don’t see her necessarily pursuing them.
It’s overall a tricky situation thats been messing with me for quite some time…

I want to start with an apology to drake fans, with the caveat that they need to understand his questionable choices that have been publicized can draw some nasty looks when painted the wrong way, so in a petty off that was always going to hurt the man, but the apology is in the fact that casting such a narrow net if there truly is something going on is unfair, and its unfair to not keep this at surface level words of a rap battle.
Now with that said, unless ep is part of some larger viral marketing campaign that would ultimate prove why drake lost by not just keeping it rap, or kendrick lose on integrity by not sticking to rap, i find his involvement and some of the things he said when looked at a wider picture feel like very strange coincidences.
which brings me to apology two, when those two things happen to take place at the same time, people are going to go crazy like this. In my honest opinion the "mole"(if there even was one) and the picture were absolutely unrelated which gave an absolutely spooky and crazy edge. But also asks, since i believe we are understanding all the items in that video dont actually belong to drake, that maybe all eyes shouldnt be off and maybe send it up to p.a.c.
But hopefully, a people can understand that is a crazy coincidence, and b that its unfair to start ruining individuals lives without any sort of solid proof, or spinning narratives on either side. Hopefully this made sense.

Hiii! I'd like to start off by saying that it's tragic that there are others that share my suffering of having unwanted dogs pushed on them but I'm glad I'm not alone in that. None of you deserve it and I really hope that your situations get better someday because living with shitty dogs you never wanted fucking sucks! I myself am currently coping with a situation surrounding my dad and two dogs that belong to our neighbours. Allegedly at least. In reality? Hmm... bit more complex than that - I don't know if I'm just being overdramatic, it is kind of jumbled and really long, but I'm just so tired of dealing with this and I want someone to hear it
For some context behind the living situation, I am unfortunately at a few months into 27 still living with my parents who rent a townhouse 🙁 It's my own fault really and I have a feeling the situation I'm in now may be fate's rendering of judgement on me for growing up into a failure. It's a really long story but the summary is that I was in a deep depression spiral for a bunch of reasons leading me to make sooo many poor financial and educational decisions starting around late elementary school to last year. About 2 years ago I finally started taking steps towards fixing my problems which included some soul searching within, but I think I've got another year or two yet before I'd consider myself comfortable enough financially to finally get out of here and away from this demented doggy day care more or less for good. For what it might be worth, while I don't pay rent I do help out with chores and pay for various things in general - I've fronted pet supplies and vet bills, gas, groceries, purchased furniture, kitchen tools, paid my mom's car insurance when she's been late on it because of my dad's drinking, paid for maintenance stuff such as some supplies to fix holes or damage that my dad puts in walls and doors, among other things like you know, random stuff that needs fixing haha. I want to think I'm not a *complete* parasite, but I totally understand if you still see me as one. Really, I get it. I promise you I'm trying and I will be useful one day. Until then though, 😔
My parents currently own 3 dogs and 2 cats so it's already pretty crowded here and to top it off I have a mild allergy to pet hair so the only time I ever have a clear nose is when I'm out of the house: a 10yr old schipperke named Kallie, a 4yr old golden retriever named Sundance, and some kind of mix that reminds me of a GSD mixed with a pitbull I guess that's like idk 2-3yrs old - her name is Suzuki and she's a rescue that my parents brought back after selling something to a Kijiji buyer. Dunno her breed exactly though. The cats are a black cat named Ninja that we've had since 2014 and a tabby stray named Loki that followed us home from a dumpster a few years ago so we decided to keep her. I love them both so much and Loki is especially dear to me and is actually closer to being my cat than my parents' cat - I am 100% taking her when I leave. They are relevant to this further down trust me.
For the record I don't have issues with Kallie and Sundance and actually do love them a lot despite the fact that I'm not actually the biggest fan of dogs - they're an exception, and I warmed up to Suzuki about a year ago though she has an issue which is relevant for the problem animals.
Several other dogs that weren't ours have been through this house in the past as my dad is well, soft-hearted and naive when it comes to specifically animals. Some of them have been problems. Some of them represent Problems. All of the extra dogs have been unilaterally his decision and any voice of disapproval ignites a conflict. Right now there are 2 other dogs on top of the family 3 and these two are the Big Problems™️ rn: the first one is a shitzuo (emphasis on the SHIT) named Keno or Kino or who fucking cares I'll just call him Keno. The other one is a mix of something that looks a little like Suzuki, but is white and might have a little chihuahua in him. His name is Benji. I'll start with Benji since I actually have sympathy for his owner and as much as I find him annoying he has some potential to be a decent dog one day if given the proper support, but that's not my problem as it's not my dog.
Benji is a younger doggo, about a year old. His owner is a single mom currently going through a bad divorce from what I hear which honestly is really unfortunate and I do hope her situation improves someday. He's kinda friendly most of the time, but his owner has still not gotten him fixed, which is an issue particularly because of how much time he spends in the same house as Suzuki, who my mom has not gotten fixed either despite my offers to pay for it and attempts to schedule it for her. I regularly stop Benji's attempts to mount her, but I know I won't be able to stop it forever and I'm terrified of the outcome. Every time I bring it up to my parents, I am either blown off with a half-thought response or (in the case of my dad) straight up yelled at and threatened as this dog is apparently just "playing" or "fighting for dominance." 🫠 I just don't want to have to exist next to a bunch of puppies that my parents are completely incapable of taking care of but there's nothing I can do about it. God, imagining the noise level and smell of the house makes me shiver. Aaaaaa. Benji is also an extremely pushy and jealous dog as he's still very young and isn't being trained adequately by either his owner or my dad - I cannot pet the family dogs without this little annoyance trying to worm his way in and interrupt. One positive I can think of is that he at least defers to me and folds over in submission the moment I express any kind of disapproval. Well, that and he isn't Keno.
Keno is.... a fucking NIGHTMARE that is driving me to insanity and I am devoting basically the rest of this rant to this untrained monstrosity and its neglectfully absent handlers. I have never, in my entire life, EVER, hated a dog more than this shaggy, aggressive, shrieking rat. It all started about six months ago when some neighbours who I've never met in my life got this stupid idiot dumbshit animal as a rescue. My mom let it come over once and I had one of those really bad gut feelings. My dad then suggested to them that he could keep an eye on it, as both of the owners work all day and don't get home until later while my dad is at home usually as he's on disability. From then on this curly-haired terror has been at our house almost 7 days a week, for at LEAST 12 hours a day. Let's see if I can describe just much I hate this animal without hitting a character limit.
The dog wasn't (and still isn't) yard trained or outside-trained in general. This dog is like 2 years old or something and every time I've brought it up my dad freaks out and says "that's not going to happen, that's just how he is! Get used to it!" My dad's solution is to cover our ENTIRE front entrance into the building hallway in piss pads. Yea, training pads. These are filled up multiple times a day - sometimes multiple times an HOUR ... you can imagine the amount of garbage this creates which my dad then complains about having to deal with (he's the ONLY reason this dog still comes here) - and yes, he throws the used piss pads in the KITCHEN TRASH, YOU KNOW, THE ONES WITH FECES AND URINE ON THEM 🙃The dog regularly misses too and wastes all over the floor and wall! I rented a carpet cleaner for when I moved rooms and my mom decided to use it after to clean up the entrance way, hahaha, it was pissed up less than 2 hours later! The doors and walls around there are starting to be stained by dog piss and it gets worse when the pads get moved around for whatever reason. If you were to look closely, you may see tiny streaks from where the dog rushed to its mandatory shitting sessions. We used to have a bench beside the door for putting on shoes and stuff, and the closet was actually used for coats, hats, and things. Now the whole area has been devoted to this walking feces factory and on top of that the perpetually soiled pads sit in front of our downstairs bathroom as well. Suffice to say that I have not used that washroom in nearly six months and only make use of the upstairs one now. Petty? Maybe. Legend has it that some of my makeup is still in there.
As mentioned earlier, from what I've been told this dog is a rescue. It has behaviour problems. Crazy, I know. You'd be shocked to know that its owners are not experienced with handling rescues. It barks at many, oh many things. There is not a single multicellular organism in this city that this thing has not barked at. When it gets let outside, the very first thing it does is run to the end of the yard and shriek at the sky! And this thing is one of those dogs that has the projection of a large dog, but the bark of a small one. Yea, it's actually piercing, and if I'm in the same room as it my ears physically hurt when it barks and leaves my ears ringing. Definitely an effective deterrent, as I don't really leave my room anymore while it's here, so I guess I basically don't leave my room anymore except to go to work or cook... Of course this dog does more than bark though! It's actually fairly aggressive, too, because of course it is. You cannot discipline this dog, both because of the coddling my father does for it and the dog's own reaction to various techniques. Very growly and bares its teeth. I went to close the living room curtain once and the dog snapped at my hand, biting me. It has bitten me again one other time when I shooed it out of my new room that I was cleaning out (note: my dad yelled at me later because it's "Keno's relaxing spot" and I'm cruel to take that away from it, don't worry it hasn't been back in since) I'm not allowed to teach this dog in any way, as any genuine attempt from me (mainly out of desperation to make what time I have left in this house livable I don't actually want to teach this mutt, I want it gone) is swiftly shut down by my dad who says once again that the dog will never learn and that's just how it is. GREAT. GET RID OF THE FUCKING THING THEN IF ITS UNFIXABLE. Oh, it's your "duty" to ensure the dog doesn't get put down apparently, because that's what will 100% happen if the dog gets given up according to him. He's not a "killer" 🙄 mf hearing that is unbelievably infuriating this dog will have no fucking chance in the future if it doesn't get given up at least now it could potentially be taken care of by someone halfway decent at it. I've told him multiple times that him ENABLING these dipshit owners is just causing more problems for this awful animal further down the road. I hate the shit out of this thing and I'm still trying to think of its well-being. UGH.
God tho, words cannot describe how much of a trigger this dog's bark is. I hate it. I cannot stand it. It's an audible plague. It worms through earplugs, headphones, walls. I cannot get it out of my fucking mind. Even on the few days this dog isn't here, I can still hear it shrieking away a few doors down. It's barking as I type this part someone save me this dog allegedly was supposed to go home an hour ago. The latest this thing has stayed was until 11:30 PM. What the fuck.
Apparently the dog is fixed. However for some reason it repeatedly tries to mount Suzuki. It does not do that with the other dogs who are all fixed. Huh. Oh, it also likes to rub up against the only part of our couch with an arm rest and has claimed it as its territory - actually briefly fought with Benji over it two weeks ago. Mom said it was a serious incident but nothing came of it, as usual haha. Whatever, point is this dog is a problem in yet another way. I love being told off about not wanting this dog to rub its fucking ass up against my thigh while I'm trying to just sit on the couch for whatever reason at the time.
What makes my blood boil the most about the behaviour though is how this dog treats our cats and even the other neighbour's dog. It's a fucking menace, an actual danger. It chases and harasses our cats in some attempt to police them or something. If Loki jumps onto a high point that she regularly lounges at, he dashes at her and barks at her. If Ninja meows at the door to be put on a leash in the yard, he barks and chases him. This dog has lunged at our cats more than once. I'm scared that something is going to happen to them because those things happen way faster than one can stop them. I don't know if I could handle seeing that image in reality. I really don't think I could. I hope I don't have to and even writing about the possibility gives me anxiety and the fact that my dad jokes about how Keno "definitely came from a family where he was supposed to keep an eye on a cat" just brings me to my fucking limit as it is. I nearly had that sort of scare a couple months ago when Benji and Keno were scrapping in my dad's room. I saw that they were getting too aggressive, but my dad has made it umm, very clear that I am not allowed to police them on it. So yea, it happened super quick - Keno clamped down on Benji's throat and hurt him. While the little guy lived, he now has a semi-persistent cough and at the time I genuinely thought the dog was gonna cross the forever bridge as he was struggling to breathe for like 10min. What changed from this incident? Well, nothing! My dad blamed Benji. I feel really bad about the incident as there was a brief window where I could have stopped it, but my fear of causing an argument with my dad led to an animal getting hurt, even if it's one I'm not a huge fan of.
Where are the owners? Haha. At work apparently. As mentioned, the dog is here nearly 7 days a week, at least 12 hours a day, usually longer than that (7am to 7pm, but this dog has fucking arrived at like 6:10am before.) Weekends are supposed to be a reprieve from this demon, but every couple weekends it'll come over on those days too and sometimes for completely fucking random reasons! Aren't owners usually comfy leaving their dog at their house for two hours? Why the fuck are these people unable to do that? Why do my parents get no notice apparently? Why do my parents take this shit? I am not allowed to voice disapproval towards this dog or the situation of any kind - my dad immediately launches into a tirade more colourful than a pastel palette if I even slightly remind him that I hate this fucking thing. My mom shuts me down - "That's enough.", "Don't", "I don't want your dad to get angry" the last time this happened my dad insisted that either I "love all of them or abuse all of them, no pick and choosing" he then drank himself silly and forgot about it. Why did that happen? I came in the door and pet our dogs plus Benji because he was actually behaving pretty well for once!
Yea the owners are so shitty. Benji's owner has told my mom (who then relayed it to me) about how they find it funny and cute that their awful dog pisses all over our walls and barks teehee 😊 at least Benji's owner tries and walks our schipperke at night sometimes. Keno's diabolical yet incompetent owners very clearly know they have a golden goose in the form of my father who is only spineless when it comes to dogs. He has sadly attached himself to this stupid mutt, and I'm worried that I'm going to have to deal with it for as long as I associate with my parents, at least until it passes. In fact, my dad has straight up said that he considers this dog his own, and part of the family. Many times he has mentioned that poor Keno's "REAL FAMILY" is here in our house. Keno's owners apparently pay my dad $100 a month sometimes for the privilege of letting it ruin this house for a minimum of 60 hours a week. Damn they got a good deal. The owners have other issues too, but basically I just can't believe that this is the hill my dad (and by extension my mom as she's been stockholm'd by my dad) is willing to die on. I can't believe this fucking dog has so much sway in things here. I can't believe my dad constantly praises and gives it love while in the same breath detailling very specifically how much joy I suck away from his life and how much of a regret of his I am. How do I stop being worth less to him than this dog? Before this thing, it was a neighbour's chihuahua named Oreo that also pissed all over the place and yapped. Despite the fact that I'd sometimes exit the shower and have to step over dog shit, I'd much rather have that yappy dog back then keep dealing with this hellspawn. At least back then my father pretended to care about me. I wish this thing would just fucking leave. I wish my mom would actually put her foot down like she says she is. I'm so tired of this. I'm tired of being told about how I'm supposed to just LIKE this shitty dog and how my open dislike of it is animal abuse or some shit that's like actually untrue (what the fuck.) I do my best to just ignore it as much as I can but this dog has driven me to crying fits more than once because it Just. Doesn't. Stop. The reminders are everywhere. It's sunken its teeth into every fucking aspect of life here and I am so miserable. If I could afford it I would move out yesterday. I want out so badly but can only bide my time while bitching like some drama queen because I was an idiot
Wow, this has ballooned way beyond how long I thought it'd be. Oops. Hey, even if you don't read it, it felt pretty good to type.
tldr: THESE 2 DOGS ARE SHIT BUT ONE IS SHITTIER AND THE WORST

My ex gf (32F) and I (35M) broke up after 9 years. Have I made a giant mistake as result of my circumstances?
We were together 6 years. First year or two was all gravy. Then we started having fights and it got so bad at year 6 we split up. A year later we started hanging out lightly again and fell back in love. She moved back in. Things went well again for a while. 6 months ago or so things started to get bad again. We agreed to pursue couples counseling. This wasn’t very effective unfortunately, which has added to the hurt if that makes sense.
When we fight (or fought), and I’m sort of ashamed to admit this, it bleeds into other areas of my life. Jobs were impacted. I felt like I didn’t have the energy to give due to the stress from constant arguing and intense arguing. My family relationships were sort of impacted because of the stress and constantly trying to seek out advice. Same with some friendships. I’ve had certain friends and folks that have wanted us to see it end for years. “But hey what do they know? We know the situation best.”
The truth is this person IS one of the few people on this planet that I feel genuinely cared about me aside from family, and the ONLY girl I’ve ever met who showed the kind of care and interest in me as she did. But we always seemed to be struggling to meet each other’s needs. For years there was a theme of her feeling unappreciated and unloved. For me, we didn’t go out and enjoy life enough. We rarely or very infrequently interacted with each other’s families. This frustrated me moreso vs her. Lots of my family is very local to me.
Look, I am not perfect and I am far from it. I’ve been unemployed for a year. But I did use my CC and my retirement funds to pay my way. I never borrowed money and she was very supportive and “cool” with my not working while I contemplated the next career step. I had a bad ending with my last company where I had lost both my grandfathers very close to each other, one of them to a self inflicted gunshot wound. It def effected me.
Anyways, two months ago I started putting two honest feet forward. I started applying to jobs. I’ve been exercising and have lost 10lbs in the last month alone, and down from 253 to 235 this year. I took on individual therapy a month ago even though I cannot afford it. Mostly to help get past prior work frustrations.
And then one day two weeks ago shit hit the fan with our relationship. Her feeling unappreciated and unloved for years and years culminated. She said she was done with couples counseling and I needed to fully focus on individual. This upset me. Things escalated, and we broke up.
I feel quit on. And betrayed. But I also feel past mistakes with work etc snowballed and she grew tired of insecurities I was expressing and complaining about regarding comparing to my working successful peers. In her words, she no longer knew how to offer support and felt unappreciated and unloved.
One thing that bugged me is we agreed to pursue individual therapy together at the recommendation of our couples counselor. She never got around to it. She blamed “delays in the Kaiser network.”
I feel I have pushed away and cut out someone special in my life. I am sad/numb. I fear this is just culmination of my mistakes and she grew tired of a “loser.”
What happened? Did I simply mess up?
TLDR: 9 year relationship ended. We tried counseling. We both felt our needs werent met constantly to where counseling wasnt effective. She has a good heart. Feel like she genuinely cared about me but it seemed hard so often to go out casually or spend time with each other’s families. She felt unappreciated and unloved, I felt betrayed when after acknowledging I needed to move forward in my life with career and fixing our relationship and putting two honest feet forward for the last 2 months and she quit when things escalated one day and we both felt wronged. Hard letting go. Feeling like I screwed up and this is all my fault and I just kind of suck at life?

CANCER ZODIAC TAROT READING - UNEXPECTED INCOME MAY 2024

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I am trying a new bedtime routine with my 9 month old. He’s in a sleep regression, probably growth spurt, about to walk, slight cluster feeding stage so I’m trying to go to bed with him instead of staying up. Maybe I can have an hour or two of me time and cleaning in the morning?
Tonight I left him in the bedroom with the door closed for ten to fifteen minutes in order to clean up the dinner mess and get any food cleared in the kitchen. Normally he doesn’t love a closed door but he’ll fuss for a minute, then play. He cried the whole time. I sang to him via the monitor but it didn’t help.
He ended up doing this bizarre grunting cry of “Mmmm! Mmmm! Muhhh! Mama! Mmmm!” with hitching breaths in between. I’ve never heard that before. I have suspected him of having panic attacks and this certainly seemed like one. He was so pitiful, having stuck his hands under the door to get to me. Once I got him latched, he continued gasping for air until I got him a sip of cold water (it helps them stop for me) and re-latched. Finally, he breathed normally.
Just now he woke up next to me, crying. He didn’t really stop when he heard me and felt my hand on his back, reassuring him “mamas here, I’ve got you” and it just seems like every time he has to cry for me for more than a minute or three, he is traumatized. Each time, he is more sensitive for several hours up to a day and wakes up crying more often. He needs more reassurance, he won’t stay by himself anywhere very long… and this from a child who is pretty chill normally and plays well by himself for up to twenty minutes most days. The anxiety and high cortisol seem so apparent to me. He’s following me around, pulling up on my pants legs, mad af.
How do they do it? It breaks my heart to have him so upset. I could have left it for later, but I don’t want to entice bugs into the house. I could have washed my smoothie bottle in the morning. I feel so guilty, but I’m simply running out of time to function lately. There’s not a lot of available support in terms of babysitting and I would love to introduce a “quiet time” where he lets me leave him to play by himself for thirty minutes during the day but MY WORD this doesn’t feel worth it!