Medical assistant front desk interview thank you letter

Tales From Healthcare

2014.06.19 14:23 bunchareality Tales From Healthcare

Do you work in healthcare? Nurse, doctor, medical assistant, front desk, back desk, reception, etc. **WE WANT YOUR STORIES!!**
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2024.05.15 23:45 jennasmithy0984 Statistics Course Help Reddit Online Helper for Data Analyst, Biostatistician, Data Scientist, Statistician, Research Analyst, Quantitative Analyst, Operations Research Analyst, Market Research Analyst courses class assignment Test quiz homework help Reddit take my stat class exam test reddit

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2024.05.15 23:45 Gfdgsgxgzgdrc Revisiting the Mystery Valentine (An Overly Long Explanation of Why It's Definitely Gaster)

Revisiting the Mystery Valentine (An Overly Long Explanation of Why It's Definitely Gaster)
https://preview.redd.it/vfqpjxdvqn0d1.png?width=3005&format=png&auto=webp&s=5714871c0eb21939d134ffe5f90025eb3f2fc8e3
I'm not sure why I'm still so hung up on this. For context, I kinda fell out of theorycrafting a while ago — at this point, I've seen every shred of evidence supporting or opposing every possible theory, and yet I feel no closer to any concrete conclusions on the game's lore. There are just too many questions, too many possibilities.
Then the secret Valentine dropped. This letter raised a lot of questions I was eager to discuss! Instead, I was disappointed to find the discussion dominated by something I didn't even think to question: the writer's identity. This frustrated me a bit, as I felt that, for once, the conclusion was actually pretty clear-cut; it didn't strike me as something Toby Fox even intended for us to debate.
At the time, this drove me to write a post discussing it (don't bother reading it, this post is better). I thought that would be the end of it for me, but somehow the debate has yet to leave my mind. Even now, from what I've seen, people are too busy arguing about who wrote the letter to discuss what's in it. All the while, I've not only grown more confident in the conclusion I've reached, but I feel more prepared to articulate why. I've also heard more counterarguments since then, which I will address in this post.
I'll start with what we can agree on, before addressing more significant counterarguments and delving into progressively deeper levels of conjecture. Should be fun!

Context and implications

Even before looking at the letter itself, we can see that this is a rare, cryptic secret, already giving us an idea of who might be involved. I'd go so far as to say that Gaster is "rare, cryptic secrets" personified. To me, this is the main thing setting him apart from other characters.
Obviously that's not to say that other characters can't be responsible for secrets like these, but giving the letter a cursory glance, the format doesn't fail us. All caps — this doesn't tell us much on its own, but when used alongside a very, very specific manner of double line spacing between and within sentences, compounded by the aforementioned association with secrets... Toby Fox is clearly trying to tell us something here, so I'm not a fan of any theory that completely discards that.
You'll probably agree with this point — even Gaster Valentine deniers admit that there is an intentional association being drawn. If you disagree... sorry, I don't know what to tell you. When it comes to Gaster, having a mysterious secret with all-caps weirdly-spaced text is basically equivalent to Susie walking onscreen and saying "Hi, I'm Susie". Sure, maybe a plot twist down the line will reveal that this isn't actually Susie... But you'd only suspect that if she says something that would imply it, and for now, we're only looking at the presentation.
There's another association I haven't seen as many people bring up: the fact that the letter is anonymous. Ironically, "not being confirmed to be Gaster" is one of Gaster's identifying characteristics. In every case, we're left to assume his involvement from cues such as those we see here: secrets, crypticism, capitalization, spacing, all that. Anonymity is his signature. By including these quirks and leaving it uncredited, he may as well be signing "GASTER" in flashing letters. And that's not even getting into the implication of Wingdings and the letter disappearing after being read, which are both Gastery as all get out.
A couple minor notes regarding the writer's anonymity:
  • The lack of a telltale 666 motif or gratuitous "VERY, VERY" could be seen as a point of contention, but I think this naturally follows the pattern we've seen thus far: as we grow more familiar with Gaster, there's less need for these kinds of identifying motifs. In Undertale, the name Gaster is directly associated with 666 and Wingdings, but as we already know these connections going into Deltarune, the game's intro more-or-less drops the name and font associations.
  • Notably, this is the only Valentine without a confirmed sender — if it was meant to tease a new character (à la Lanino and Elnina), why not include a visual or first initial to indicate that? Because it's supposed to seem like Gaster, only to end up a red herring...? Seems like a pretty cheap twist to me. Characters have deceived us in the games themselves, but we've generally been able to take supplemental content more-or-less at face value.
Of course, that anonymity is a double-edged sword. It implies Gaster's involvement just as much as it leaves room for doubt. If Toriel does something un-Toriel-like, we simply have to reconcile what we previously knew of her character with what we do now, whereas if Gaster does something un-Gaster-like, it calls his entire identity into question. I still don't think the Gaster associations can simply be handwaved away — again, even Gaster Valentine deniers agree that there's some significance to the similarities — but, by his very nature, it's nothing more than an implication.
If the voice from the vessel creation sequence says something to the effect of:
https://preview.redd.it/lsfu4bxrqn0d1.png?width=514&format=png&auto=webp&s=14867b9e9ea46dfc4f7c7fc91de69c574cab530d
I'll be the first to admit that it probably isn't Gaster. But I don't think that's the case here, and to discuss why, we'll have to move on from the context to the content.

Personality and mannerisms

The obvious problem with analyzing Gaster is that he has yet to be properly introduced, much less developed. We've only ever interacted with him outside Deltarune's story and world, and furthermore only briefly, within a very narrow range of contexts. Additionally, these interactions are written to provide us with as little characterization as possible — he is succinct and direct, never shifting the subject beyond what is relevant to us. This itself could be considered characterization, but without the "why", there's not much to glean from it.
Regardless of whether this trait is dependent on context (there's little room for conversation in a survey program, after all) or is simply an ever-present aspect of his personality, I'd argue it carries over to the letter. He tries to begin with polite small talk, but each topic he broaches is swiftly dismissed; once again, he can hardly bring himself to deviate from "the purpose of the message". Speaking of which, that fact — that this is the only Valentine with an explicit "purpose" — itself provides characterization. Almost as though this character would only contact us for an important reason (perhaps a character with a history of doing so, often outside the game). Almost as though we've met this character before (otherwise, I suspect Toby would've focused exclusively on characterization rather than motives, as with Lanino and Elnina).
I realize I'm getting into full speculation territory now, but hopefully I've made it clear why it's necessary to do so. Gaster's personality and motives are largely up to personal interpretation — I think we can agree that, were that not the case, the debate would be a lot more one-sided. Your interpretation of the character can't be used as conclusive evidence for your theory. Of course, I'm not exempt from this either! My interpretation could be completely off-base as well. That said, I'd like to at least explain why it all lines up in my head. (Feel free to compare my interpretation with his dialogue, which I've compiled here: https://pastebin.com/yR5Y8qhw)
Let's get the specific shared mannerisms out of the way before moving onto the more general similarities. Specifically:
  • Gaster employs a specific kind of repetition, mostly limited to single words, but occasionally multiple ("OF COURSE", "SHALL WE", "THE SECOND"). We see this reflected in the letter ("BELIEVE IT SO", "WANT[ED] TO HELP", "SEEM TO HAVE FORGOTTEN").
  • He alternates between present and past tense when describing what is currently happening (seen throughout the vessel creation and save menu text). The letter writer does this multiple times.
  • Perhaps a generic word choice, but the writer says "HOW ABSURD", much like how Gaster has said "HOW WONDERFUL", "HOW INTERESTING", and "HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN".
There are a couple other things that struck me as extremely Gastery, but I couldn't find many examples for them. I might just be thinking of the stilted way Toby Fox writes in status updates and newsletters, which reminds me more of Gaster than any other character... but that's a tenuous connection at best, so take these for whatever they're worth:
  • The letter writer puts "VALENTINE'S DAY" in quotes. I thought there were more examples of Gaster putting random terms in quotes (it suits his general robotic-yet-whimsical demeanor), but the only ones seem to be the names you enter in the vessel creation.
  • I find the phrasing "THE PURPOSE OF THE MESSAGE" (as opposed to, say, "the reason I wrote this to you") very Gastery — something about the detached feeling and repeated use of "THE" — but the only instance I could find of this particular sentence construction was "CHOOSE THE TARGET FOR THE REFLECTION", so maybe it doesn't mean much.
Moving onto the general personality, the easiest similarity to argue is the metaknowledge. Gaster introduces you to the Deltarune program, and is the only character known to acknowledge it. The letter writer is clearly interested in your thoughts on Deltarune (albeit spelled "DELTA RUNE"; beyond Toby's general inconsistency with minor details like these, I'm not sure what to make of that). The writer also acknowledges the wait between chapters, much like Gaster does — contrasting this, everyone else simply acknowledges the time that's passed within the story, perceiving two real-world years as one night. It could also be argued that Gaster is the only character who has contacted us, the player, directly.
Gaster is also known to be polite and formal, always offering greetings ("WELCOME"), gratitude ("THANK YOU FOR WAITING SO LONG"), and compliments ("YOU HAVE CREATED A WONDERFUL FORM"). We see this reflected quite well in the letter — "AS YOU ARE WAITING PATIENTLY" and "DO YOU BELIEVE IT SO?" certainly don't feel like the words of someone speaking casually. Like Gaster, the writer also uses fewer exclamation marks and contractions than most. Granted, the fact that the writer uses contractions at all is cause for suspicion... but, since they're outnumbered by the uncontracted phrases, contraction usage remains closer to Gaster than anyone else (except Toriel, I guess). Although we haven't seen Gaster use contractions in his few prior instances of dialogue... evidently, he does use them, albeit infrequently.
The formality even goes beyond word choice — his repeated backtracking on the exact order of "PUT ON YOUR COAT AND WASH YOUR FACE" brings to mind his polite accommodation of our choices in the vessel creation or save menu. It doesn't seem like him to forcefully tell us what to do, or in what order to do it, and the letter's ending serves to exaggerate that quality. He may not use any highly technical language here, but that makes sense in this less scientific context (especially when you consider that he doesn't use scientific terminology all that often anyway).
Gaster's constant emphasis on the subject at hand, saying something odd or outright wrong whenever he alludes to anything else (listing the wrong options for whatever he means by "FAVORITE BLOOD TYPE", or listing such favorite flavors as "PAIN" and "COLD") — it's always given me the impression that Gaster's transcendent brilliance doesn't extend far beyond his own work. That's not to say he's stupid, far from it, but definitely a bit "out there" (I feel this much is apparent from the multiple typing quirks he uses). At the very least it feels inarguable to me that, while Gaster is smart, he doesn't know everything, and (like any Toby Fox character) he isn't always intended to be taken 100% seriously.
Casting our gaze over to the letter, this once again checks out. Confusing the new year with the old year, considering himself to be the person he's forgotten, mixing up the recipient's face and coat — these feel more-or-less like a natural development of Gaster's established eccentricity, like the kinds of weird things that would only make sense from his unique, potentially fractured, extradimensional perspective. Sure, "THE TIME IS GOING AROUND" may not make sense to us mortal beings, but neither does "DELTARUNE GLOWS BRIGHTLY FROM YOUR HOPE". Ending a message with the archaic "GOOD BY" feels roughly equivalent to randomly putting [24] in brackets.
The increased emphasis on these quirks makes sense in this more casual context, and adds tonal consistency with the other Valentines — being a spooky creepypasta character is hard work, and I think the guy's earned a day off. The friendliness also makes it out to seem like the writer has communicated with us in the past, which wouldn't make sense for anyone other than Gaster, and certainly wouldn't have made sense in something like the vessel creation sequence. I find that it also makes sense from an extradiagetic perspective — Toby Fox is just providing characterization here, not announcing a new chapter, so there's less reason to write Gaster with as much purpose and brevity as in previous appearances.
Basically, the idea that Gaster is completely serious and grounded while the letter writer is completely goofy... I don't get it. I really don't think either of those things are true. I'm not even sure what I would change about the letter to make it sound more like Gaster... Did you expect less exclamation marks? More line breaks (which would make it overly long and monotonous, might I add)? Less whimsical turns of phrase? At that point the letter wouldn't deepen our understanding of the character at all, and I fail to see what the point would be.
And the idea that the letter ruined Gaster's character makes even less sense to me — for one, what does this letter really establish about Gaster that wasn't already alluded to? I suppose the letter makes him out to be more whimsical than most of us thought, but how is that a downgrade from "static, one-dimensional robotic scientist"? Can "whimsical scatterbrain" and "robotic scientist" not coexist? Is the gradual reveal of depth and contrasts not at the heart of most Toby Fox characters?? The directness of his speech has made him feel more like a plot device up to this point, so this letter was the first time I truly felt invested in Gaster as a character outside of his unique presentation. I don't think "saying things in a casual context that could be construed as humorous" (again, especially when he already says things like "FAVORITE BLOOD TYPE") is enough to consider him "scrunkly goober #78" — and even if it was, Toby has a way of delivering the most emotionally impactful moments through the funniest characters, so I'm not particularly worried.
All that to say: it's my belief that, even looking past the context and format, the letter aligns more closely with Gaster than any other character. Who else has such a formal and cordial composure contrasted against an air of inscrutable strangeness?

Motives and memory

Gaster hasn't exactly been transparent about his goals, and the letter writer isn't giving us a whole lot to work with either, so we're going to have to get even more speculative here. That said, the conclusion I've arrived at makes a lot of sense to me, relates to established elements of Deltarune, and even explains away some people's reasons for this not being Gaster. Those being:
  1. "Gaster asks us for help, even though we've already been helping him!" This is easily explained if we assume he's asking our help with something else this time. The more casual tone and secrecy of the letter supports the interpretation that this is a less generally important, more personal matter; it's the difference between "Hey, if you don't mind, would you lend me a hand with this thing that's been on my mind?" and "I'm subjecting you to an experiment I've spent years preparing, please follow these exact instructions." I suppose it's strange that he doesn't mention how we can help, but I imagine that's something that will become clear in the future.
  2. "Gaster isn't forgetful!" While I'd say it's entirely possible that Gaster has memory problems that simply hadn't been alluded to yet, I find the more likely explanation to be that there's something supernatural at play, and once again I believe this is hinted at in the letter itself. Gaster says it's "IRONIC" that he forgot something — what could this imply, beyond the fact that he was forgotten himself? (To recap the theory, Goner Kid mentions a world where they don't exist, no one acknowledges Gaster outside Fun events, and while Asgore is said to have taken a long time replacing Gaster, it's unconfirmed whether he remembered who he was replacing.) I was 50/50 on this theory myself, but I take this letter to be more-or-less confirmation of it, further tying it to Gaster. The only other explanation I can think of for this "IRONIC" line is that perhaps Gaster makes people forget things...? For the purposes of this theory, it doesn't matter too much, as it establishes a precedence for supernatural memory loss either way. Furthermore, by suggesting the person he's forgotten may be himself, he draws a direct parallel between himself and the person he's helping, lending further credence to this interpretation.
This brings us to my theory. I posit that the forgotten character is someone in similar circumstances to Gaster himself; someone who cannot be found in the story, and is instead associated with secrets outside of it (much like this letter). As an added bonus, it would help strengthen the theory if it happened to be a character who is known to call out for help, and who we've previously been requested to find (particularly in secret material outside of the game, much like this letter). If only there was a character fitting all of those criteria...
But this post isn't about that. My point is, while there's not much to glean in the way of connections between the letter person's goals and Gaster's, I don't think there's anything contradicting such connections either.
https://preview.redd.it/gswysspqtn0d1.png?width=392&format=png&auto=webp&s=248273e7bacc131cf9e9422a0aebdaeeacc6c9b6
Oh. Right, I guess there's that. If this is the same Gaster we've worked with before, why doesn't he say "YOU HAVE PROVEN YOURSELF TO BE RELIABLE"? I feel like this minor word choice could be justified by any number of explanations. For one, the phrasing makes a bit more sense within the full context: basically "you're odd, but you seem reliable regardless". You could also argue that, since he's asking something different of us this time, we haven't proven ourselves to be reliable for this specific task. Or that since we've only been assisting in the "Deltarune" project for 2 of 7 chapters, that's not enough time for him to fully consider us reliable. Or, maybe the only reason we do seem reliable to him is because we've been assisting him — otherwise we wouldn't seem reliable at all. Heck, it could just be odd phrasing for a character who constantly uses odd phrasing, only misleading under a specific interpretation.

Translation

To recap, I think the context and format convey a very clear implication — one that could be a red herring, but that I believe is only supported by the writer's personality, and (at the very least) not contradicted by their goals. Here is where I believe we come to the first hole in my argument.
The Japanese translation doesn't sound particularly close to how Gaster speaks in Japanese. I don't speak Japanese, so there's not much I can do to back up or debunk this claim — perhaps people are overlooking some of the more minor similarities, as with the English version...? Or maybe there's more nuance to the translation process than most people think, and the writing style is highly adaptive to tone, mood, context, or method of delivery, or affected by cultural differences...? I don't know, so for now I can do nothing but take it at face value, and consider what this inconsistency might imply.
People seem divided into two camps with regards to the translation: "the English version very clearly sounds like Gaster, therefore the Japanese version doesn't matter" and "the Japanese version very clearly doesn't sound like Gaster, therefore the English version doesn't matter". Frustratingly, neither of these actually address the inconsistency. If we assume it isn't Gaster, the English version clearly goes out of its way to mislead us into thinking it is (as I've already justified extensively), so why not do the same for the Japanese version? If Toby wanted to clear up ambiguity by making the Japanese version distinct from Gaster, why not do the same for the English version? Whichever way you slice it, it's a contradiction.
That said, I think there are a few things working in my favor here. For one, English is Toby's native language, as well as the most common language spoken by his fanbase. Japanese translation is handled by a different team under Toby's supervision; they had a lot of Valentines to translate, and likely a pretty strict deadline. It's believable that time constraints forced the team to prioritize accuracy to the content and tone of the letter over consistency with established text quirks.
There's also the fact that the English version is the only one to imply a clear sender (unless you want to reach and say the secrecy and metaknowledge of the Japanese version imply Gaster as well); personally, I feel inclined to believe a deliberate implication over the lack of one. Adding weight to this point, this isn't generally the sort of thing casual fans are going to speculate about — anyone who knows about the letter has likely heard of both versions, which means most will gravitate toward whichever one implies a specific identity. Because of this, the Gaster interpretation seems to prevail even in the Japanese fanbase.
Basically, I don't like that making sense of the letter forces me to either make up an arbitrary narrative explanation for the discrepancy, or to write off either the English or Japanese version as unreliable... However, this decision is made much easier by the fact that, the way I see it, only one of them provides mounds of evidence (from the context to the specific format to the anonymity to the metaknowledge to the formality to the strange mannerisms and so on) pointing toward a single interpretation.

Alternative explanations

I've seen a few other theories regarding the writer's identity, the most common of which being the idea that Gaster was shattered into multiple personalities, and that this is a different "shard" from the one we've communicated in the past — I take issue with any theory that compartmentalizes one complicated character into multiple simple ones, but I suppose it doesn't necessarily have to be done that way. There are also theories that this is the Chapter 3/4 secret boss (associated with Gaster based on precedent), Mike (associated with Gaster through Spamton), or IMAGE_FRIEND (associated with Gaster via filename conventions), some of whom may or may not be the same person.
My main argument against these theories is that I simply don't think they're necessary. To reiterate, I think the whimsy Gaster displays here is consistent with his previous characterization (we've only seen him in scientific contexts until now, and even then a bit of whimsy manages to slip through), and the forgetfulness can easily be explained as well (since it only seems to apply to one subject). Again, the only hole I can find in my interpretation is the Japanese version, and none of these theories really explain the inconsistency there, leaving us back at square one — if it's merely a character associated with Gaster as opposed to the man himself, why aren't the similarities and differences roughly the same in both versions?
These theories don't make much sense to me when I attempt to look at them from Toby Fox's perspective, either. Getting a secret Valentine from Gaster is, technically speaking, like the coolest thing ever, and I think he realizes this. If he's willing to include a secret letter with this much lore in it, why leave out such an important character we've already communicated with? And furthermore, why give a different mysterious character so many of the same characteristics we use to identify Gaster in the absence of his appearance or name?
Also, isn't it telling that the debate seems split evenly between "Gaster" and "a theoretically infinite supply of basically made-up Gaster-adjacent characters"? While these theories could end up being accurate, I don't yet see any precedence for either Gaster having multiple personalities, nor any as-of-yet unseen/nonverbal characters sounding like the letter writer; these theories simply exist to explain a contradiction that I believe isn't truly there. They embody the principle of explosion, or "from contradiction, anything follows" — if you accept that it sounds both "like Gaster" and "unlike Gaster", you can make up anything in between these possibilities, an untouchable theory that can neither be proven by evidence or disproven by counterevidence. I personally don't find that line of thought very compelling.
In the most popular video on the topic, SpookyDood analyzes the letter through cadence, language, context, and function; however, I think something is lost from analyzing these aspects separately. Cadence, language, and function are largely dependent on context. If we accept the letter into that pool of Gaster characterization rather than nitpicking it into oblivion, we simply see new patterns emerge. We see that Gaster only uses particularly large words when he's referring to something scientific. We see that Gaster is slightly more enthusiastic when there's less pressure to be serious and professional. Basically, I feel that all of the inconsistencies SpookyDood brings up are easily explained by this letter being a different narrative context from the one Gaster has previously occupied (and I presume will largely continue to occupy), which is what I find so interesting about it.
As for cadence, SpookyDood says that "[Gaster's] pattern of each few words being broken up by a line break is no longer present", but the first 3 sentences alone are divided into 6 lines. He even calls out certain sentences in the vessel creation as going against this pattern, proving that it doesn't have to be consistent — while these line breaks do define the flow of Gaster's speech, I think the frequent use of ellipses here achieve the same effect without needlessly extending the length of the image.
The video ultimately posits that the writer is the man behind the tree, and honestly, I don't entirely disagree with that conclusion. The use of "well" checks out, as does the happy mood. In the case of both "DO YOU BELIEVE IT SO?" and "He might be happy to see you. What do you think?", the text moves on without directly responding to our answer. There's also a more loose connection to be made, in that both of these questions involve reality being dependent on our thoughts (whether each day is or is not a day of love, and whether there is or is not a man there), and likewise, dropping the egg causes the narration to act as though the egg was never there. (Obviously the man himself doesn't say any of this, but the association's still there through the narration.)
The connections don't strike me as plentiful or strong enough to stand toe-to-toe with the Gaster interpretation, but without much to go off of regarding the man, it doesn't have to deal with as much counterevidence either. I'd say I have the same problem with this theory as the others I've mentioned (an excessive avoidance of contradiction such that, instead of associating with said contradictions, the letter is attributed to a character we know so little about that it can't be argued against), but there's a fairly reasonable basis for argument here.
Thing is, I don't think these interpretations are mutually exclusive. I was ambivalent toward Gaster and the man (the mystery man, you could say) being one and the same, but the letter has done a lot to sway me toward that conclusion. Strengthening the connections between the letter, the man, and Gaster are the mutual association with forgetting (due to the blog post where Noelle can't remember the name of her egg), secrets, and disappearances. The letter's contrasting of contradictory statements ("NEW YEAR" vs. "OLD YEAR", "WASH YOUR FACE" vs. "WASH YOUR COAT") call to mind both the man ("a man" vs. "not a man", "not too important" vs. "not too unimportant") and the strange someone who corrupted Jevil ("didn't make sense" vs. "didn't not make sense").
If the letter was supposed to be written by the man, but not Gaster, I imagine the letter would have been formatted like this instead:
https://preview.redd.it/igudqtpisn0d1.png?width=2500&format=png&auto=webp&s=0dd63050999a033459f6255ac671a1ac4ad4fcd9

Conclusion

Sorry, that was long. I'm done!
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2024.05.15 23:45 fynnetakitty How to Transition into Clinical IT: Seeking Advice and Insights

Hey everyone,
I'm seeking some guidance on transitioning into a career in clinical IT. I'm based in Canada and currently work as a Registered Cardiology Technologist, with four years of experience in this role. Additionally, I've spent 10 years working in various clinical positions, including nursing unit clerk, hospital admissions, health records management, and medical transcription.
I'm very interested in transitioning my career path and looking for opportunities that will consider my clinical work experience. Can anyone provide insights into the job market for clinical IT professionals in Canada? I'm considering pursuing a certificate or diploma program in Health Informatics and wondering if this would significantly enhance my opportunities in this field?
I'd appreciate any recommendations for reputable programs or schools offering Health Informatics programs. Additionally, I'm curious if anyone with a similar background has successfully transitioned into a career in health informatics and if they have any advice to share.
Thanks in advance for any assistance or insights you can provide!
submitted by fynnetakitty to HealthInformatics [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 23:44 owww13 [QCrit] Adult Literary Fiction, SPLITTINGS, 90k (2nd Attempt)

Hey all! You can find my first attempt here. Thanks again for all the advice. I'm hoping it made this draft a bit stronger. I tried to pair down a bit and focus a bit and make its happenings a bit less vague (hopefully).
I cut off the section about keying his car because it's a moment that ushers in the end of Act 1 for the book and help keys off some of the threads in Act 2 and 3—I was worried it occurred too late in the novel to really make sense in the letter.
I've included my first 300 (and a bit extra) below as well!
Letter: I am seeking representation for my work, SPLITTINGS, a queer coming-of-age literary fiction novel set in Kansas during the early 2010s, complete at 90,000 words.
If Derek wants to feel like an actual gay person, he just looks at his phone. He doesn’t know how to exist in a world he can’t curate. In real life, there are protests against gay marriage. He listens to his twin, Jason, call people “fags.” When Derek meets college student Andrew, he believes the only relationship they can have is an online one.
Derek grows jealous his brother’s relationship with a neighborhood girl and escalates his relationship with Andrew. Suddenly, he's not just watching GIFs spliced from gay movies. Derek is sneaking out of house and lying about where he’s been. He’s starring in his own scenes.
But Derek doesn’t how to act. Or even how being gay should feel like. What does should he say on a date when he can’t look up a fact or send a meme? What’s the right expression to make when he sees Andrew’s dick for the fist time? It’s not the same as being on his phone. Derek feels like he’s not even a real person. If he was, he’d know how to behave. He’d know which person he is: the one he is around his family and friends, the one entangled with Andrew, or the one he witnesses online.
SPLITTINGS would appeal to fans of novels like Sarah Thankam Mathews’s All This Could be Different and Brandon Taylor’s Real Life.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
300:
The light from my phone made it hard to see the rest of the world. I read life expectancy statistics. A website siloed the information into demographic categories. Tabs on medical and family history collared the top of the page. I almost couldn’t tell I was in my bedroom. The smell from my sheets, my own scent, filled my brain. I didn’t know how I was breathing, how there was still oxygen available. In the morning I sometimes struggled to believe there was a whole world. I understood this as a nihilist issue: life was an object, a frictionless ball in a pachinko game, pinging off different immutable factors set generations before birth.
An advertisement for superfoods flashed across my screen. The picture, a man’s chest, made me want to dissolve but in a way that would somehow be good for the environment. I checked Andrew’s profile. It had only been thirty minutes since I last looked, which made me feel ashamed. Nothing on his page had changed since we met a few days ago.
Jason moved inside of his room. The sound came through our shared wall. Moving souvenirs on his desk. Laying his upper torso on the bed.
He had been annoyed at me since we went down to the river to celebrate graduation. Everyone had worn Class of 2013 t-shirts or collegiate apparel. As a twin-joke, Jason had made us switch shirts. He wanted to reset our relationship to a previous, juvenile state. People confused us all night. Because he was there, no one noticed when I left to walk the banks.
I had been practicing being alone. In a few months I was moving states for college. People kept saying it would be difficult being away from everyone, but the isolation would reveal a purer version of myself. My own removal made scenes more interesting and alive. At the party, my absence was the only novel detail. Relationships wove together in an uncomplicated net. Our friends believed they knew each other and that made them feel safe.
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2024.05.15 23:42 MedEdMentorsCanada CaRMS 2024/2025! 🥰

Hello friends!
After a wonderful year, I'm back again to help those in need after having a successful time this past cycle helping IMGS!! (woo, seems like we're killing it!)
As someone who matched in 2023 🥰 - I understand each applicant has a unique path and diverse work experience. Therefore, I provide affordable mentorship services to assist with all aspects of the CaRMS process!
I offer one-on-one sessions where I get to know the clients and provide advice/help w/ the following areas:
  1. CaRMS application process: For individuals who are early in the process, this session involves guiding them through their journey, brainstorming ideas on what to include in their applications, appropriate exam timing, and the best approach to their applications (1-1.5 hrs).
  2. CV brainstorming and review (1.5-2 hrs).
  3. Personal statement brainstorming and review (1.5-2 hrs).
  4. Interview preparation - Traditional one/two-on-one and MMI (1.5-2 hrs).
  5. British Columbia Clinical Assessment Program (BC CAP) application review (1.5-2 hrs).
  6. BC CAP - MMI (1.5-2 hrs).
  7. National Assessment Collaboration Objective Structured Clinical Examination (NAC OSCE) mock test, either 5 or 10 stations (1.5 to 3 hours).
  8. Medical Council of Canada Qualifying Examination Part 1 (MCCQE 1) mentorship.
Good luck & email me via mededumentors@gmail.com!
Thank you, Medical Education Mentors
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2024.05.15 23:34 clinical_Cynicism You did WHAT to my Sister?!

After the great scattering and the unification of Terra and the Sol system. The Emperor ventured out to conquer the galaxy and search for his Primarchs. During this great crusade many Primarchs were found, and despite some setbacks, reunited with their legions. His Primarchs were tasked with the further unification and subjugation of the fragmented remnants of humanity throughout the stars. In this they were told to keep a lookout for their fellow creations. Some Primarchs like Vulkania, Hathor and Sanguinia were devoting great efforts to find and rescue their lost Sisters while the more coldly pragmatic ones like Ferra, Perturaba and Ellanor treated this task as more of a chore with the expectation of unearthing a new weapon for the war effort. So in Year 888 of M 30 of the imperial standard calendar the blood angels legion and their primarch Sanguinia were carrying out the expansion efforts in the borderzone of the growing ultramar exclave. As it happened they came across a civilized human world, that its residence called Nuceria. Sanguinia, ever the charming diplomat, had first contact messages sent out on all possible vox channels and frequencies and even utilizing communication methods from the dark age of technologie in hopes of reaching the planetary authorities. After managing to establish a reliable method of communication she scheduled plans to send an envoy for a planetary landing and subsequent negotiations about the integration into the imperium. As they were loading up the landing crafts with gifts and weapons and diplomats and space marines, Sanguinia was walking across the main hangar bay of the Red Tear. Looking left and right over all the busy people, her wings swaying in the breeze of the air conditioning. At the end of the hangar hall she saw admiral Ares DuCade hurrying towards her with his entourage. She took a moment to stand still and look at him coming, her moment of peace would soon be over.
“There you are my lord, I have been looking for you all morning! You weren’t on the flight deck, you weren’t on the command deck nor on the Bridge nor in your personal quarters and not even on the observation deck could I find you. Landing group alpha primus were worried to terra and back, that their main asset wouldn’t show up in time for take off. First officer Morel almost cried at the thought of having lost a Primarch! Just what in the Imperiums name has possessed you to roam the lower bowes of the ship!” Sanguinia smiled and laughed: “Oh I just wanted to ensure that the ensins and marines of objective group two and three were well rested. I know they don’t mind doing the less glamorous security work but I don’t want them to feel left out just because they couldn’t take part in the parade today.” DuCarde sighed: “Please at least tell your personal security detail before going on such an unscheduled escapade”. He looked at his Primarch, then blushed and looked away. “But thank you for caring about the men”, he couldn’t stay mad at her, not with that smile. “Well then, let us proceed, before we cause a delay, If we go now we should just about make it in time”, Sanguinia winked at him and led the way.
As predicted the transport shuttles departed just in time and the descent to Nuceria was smooth and without issue. Group primus would head down towards the capitol and land just outside in a spectacular flight show before parading into the city where they would engage in the negotiations. Sanguinia knew the importance of making powerful and benevolent first impressions. Group secundus and tertius would make a less impressive descent and position themselves near the military, logistics and communications centers, just in case the talks went sour or the planetary authority would try to pull a fast one on the Legion. But so far everything went to plan, they were almost at the main square, their diplomats had engaged the planetary politicians and even though her personal honor guard was tense, looking for danger around every corner, Sanguinia made a calm and relaxed impression. She had to make a conscious effort for this impression but she knew as soon as this was done she could return to her beloved little dove and spend with them the time that was otherwise allocated for the conquest of this planet. The Desh’ean nobility welcomed Sanguinia and one man stepped forward and introduced himself as lord Thal’kr, leader of the ruling clan. His pompous attitude suggested he saw himself as an equal to Sanguinia, from one lord to another, this was a nuisance that she would just have to deal with. Usually putting pretentious mortals in their place wasn’t an issue for any primarch and she could do it tactfully too, but something about this seemed to give the red angel a headache. Regardless they followed the planetary customs to the necessary degree and were soon invited to a spectacle in the colosseum. Sanguinia, her honor guard, her remembrancer and various other guests were placed in the royal lounge with servants, wine and a grandiose view over the arena. While she was half heartedly listening to the japping of lord Thal’kr her gaze glanced over the rest of the stadium. It was packed. Bread and games seemed to keep the populous obedient. Her headache was still not going away. It was a weird feeling, not even her prescience would allow her to divine what it was. She tried to direct her focus back to what the noble was saying. “...So anyway we have this great gladiator, basically a giant, and the best part is, She’s basically indestructible. Any wound and any torment we inflict on her she recovers from. The populus loves her, especially when we have her fight great beasts like mammoths and nucerian mountain lions. But personally I think her best performance was when we had her fight alongside her adoptive father in an impossible fight, and then when they survived, we told them to kill each other! HAHAHAHA.” The laughter of the fat, opulent tyrant made Sanguinia want to cringe and turn away, but something told her to pay attention. Sanguinia became envious of her bodyguards, for they had helmets behind which they could hide their disgust. This man's ruling ethics could not have been further apart from her own. She tries to distract herself by looking at the faces of the other attendance. To her dismay the only other local that seemed to find anything wrong with this story was a young mortal standing by the balcony and holding a bouquet of flowers. Lord Thal’kr seemed to notice. "Oh? Do you fancy the little one? They are one of my Children. I’ll introduce you.” He turned and called out: “Hei Yarrow come here and give the nice lady the courtesy will you?” The young mortal hurried over, almost tripping over their light robes. They stood in front of the red angel and bowed deeply; clearly they had been raised to be polite and respectful in anticipation for a marriage alliance. “H-hello your highness my name is Yarrow, I’m blessed to meet you,” they blushed but stayed composed even in the presence of someone as intimidating as a primarch. “Come on little one be nice and subservient and maybe the lady will take you away and show you the stars beyond our world,” the tyrant laughed, “what were you doing over there by the balcony anyway? You weren’t thinking any bad thoughts about the gladiators again were you?” “Ah n-no father. Of course not.” “That’s still ‘my lord’ to you.” He shooed young Yarrow away. “Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, And then they thought they could be slick by refusing to fight each other, but we won’t be defied that easily, so we pumped her full of stimulants and had neural-anti cognitors placed in her head. Oh you should’ve seen her then, ripped her father apart like a squealing rabbit. And how she cried afterwards, like a little bitch. Oh what wouldn’t I give to hear that again.” Another noble chimed in:”But what about the time we made her fight her lover?” “Who do you mean?” The tyrant asked. “Gladiolus the beautiful but fearsome young Gladiator,” the noble replied. “Ah yeah HAHA. Well not so fearsome in the end were they?” Lord Thal’kr laughed again. “You have to know, when we learned about their relationship, they had apparently gotten close after the death of her father, we brought the two into the arena. They thought they would be fighting beasts but in reality they would have to fight each other. We gave her just enough time to realize her predicament before we pumped up the pressure on those anti-cognitors and turned her back into a wild savage animal. You should have seen them. Gladiolus pleaded with her to ‘snap out of it’ but she fell upon them and crushed their skull between her thighs like a watermelon. It was a delicious spectacle.” This man seemed to relish in the memory and just as Sanguinia contemplated if it was worth keeping him around he went: “Look! There She is. Child of the mountain, Mistress of the red sands along with our finest gladiators. Hail to those about to die!”
Sanguinia looked down into the arena and got hit with a wave of realization like an orbital bombardment. As she stared down she knew what the feeling was that had plagued her all day. It was this presence that she sensed and her prescience that had been screaming at her what her mind didn’t want to comprehend. But now it stood there below her, clear as day and no longer deniable. She thought no primarch could be more haggard than Morrigan and no such demigod could be more disheveled than Corvess. But she was wrong. Before her eyes stood, wrapped in chains, beaten and broken, her own flesh and blood. And as Angron looked up at the red angel standing at the parapet, all that Sanguinia could do was to close her mind to the visions of what was to come.
“You did WHAT to my Sister?!” The red angel spoke, dry and sharp, hair fell across her face and droplets of black blood fell on the parapet. “Well… we…”, before the tyrant could even speak she fell upon him. A massive hand clamped around his jaw and ripped it off. The guards reacted fast but the astarties reacted faster, thow they could not do much more than dispatch of the armed men before Azkellon ordered them to stand down. They looked over at their primarch who, in this brief moment, had already torn her way through seven other nobles with bare hands and was now about to reach her sword. Azkellon saw that the situation had turned most dire and knew he had to take charge. He turned on the vox:”all channels, situation’s fubar. Proceed with operational backup plan. Don’t go near mother, she is violent and unresponsive.” He then turned towards the brothers standing next to him and shouted: “Sanguinary guard evacuate the premises, ensure the retreat of all imperial non-combatants and most important of all: rescue that Primarch!” He pointed down into the arena, the lower levels of the stadium hadn’t yet realized what was happening, but sure enough there would be mass panic and a stampede. The Astarties split up and Azkellon along with his squad hopped down into the upper levels of the stadium. They did so just in time because the roof of the lodge began to buckle as the red angel cut through men and stone pillars as if they were straw. Azkellon cursed under his breath. He should have insisted on jump packs for this operation. It was no use now, they had to make their way down into the arena by foot, cut a way if necessary. When they were finally in the bottom rows the roof of the lodge above them collapsed and they heard an ear ringing scream: “HOW DARE YOU!” and “MY BABY SISTER!”. Clearly the primarch had finished massacring the major nobles in attendance and was now carving a bloody canyon through the minor ones. The stadium was now in full panik and mortals were scrambling over each other to get out of their own slaughterhouse. The Astarties hopped another fence down into the arena. A few bolter rounds dispatched of the remaining guards and Azkellon made his way over to the still restrained Angron. The next few words he spoke would be crucial to ensure the primarchs' cooperation; he had to choose them carefully and he had to choose them fast. “Mistress of the red sands, we are the angels of the Godemperor of mankind sent to aid you in your escape from this wretched place!” He prayed to Terra that she didn’t actually want to stay here. But to his relief Angron nodded and spoke:”My thanks. Get me out of these shackles, I can fight for myself.” Azkellon hurried to get out his multi-tool and got to work on the primarchs bindings. As he did so he looked her in the eyes and said: “it’s okay, you no longer need to fight for or by yourself.” Angron tried to stay stoic but he could see that the primarch was fighting to hold back tears. She looked as thow decades and decades of prayers prayed cold and lonely cells had finally been answered. When the shackles cracked and broke she turned away: ”They come with me”, she pointed to the other gladiators in the arena. “Very well”, Azkellon knew he couldn’t refuse her or the tenuous trust they had just built would be null and void. His squad freed the gladiators and they hurried out of the arena as Askellon ordered another thunderhawk for evacuation. As the last to leave the arena he looked back and saw the seating area had been filled with so much gore and viscera that blood began to spill over and run down the walls into the sand of the fighting pit. He made another vox call to the red tear and ordered them to get Dove on that thunderhawk along with as many tranquilizers as they could muster. They would need any help they could get if they wanted Sanguinia to calm down.
Angron led the astarties through the underbowels of the arena; clearly she knew her way around. However, that also meant that she chose a way that went past all the prison cells to free as many of the caged slaves, gladiators and animals as she could. Azkellon did not complain, he just wanted to get out of here. When they finally managed to leave the colosseum for good they stopped to take a brief respite. Angron turned to Azkellon and said: “I am grateful for your efforts but please, may I ask, you remove your helmet if you are able to, I’d like to see your face if you have one.” He did so and confirmed what he had felt for a while. Tears of black blood streamed down his cheeks and seeped out of his helmet. She looked shocked. “I’m sorry miss, this doesn’t usually happen, but our mother … your sister… it must be the deep connection we have with her that causes this.” Before he could apologize further for the undignified display, they saw a figure rise above the colosseum. The red angel had spread her bloodstained wings and was flying towards the ruling palace at the other end of the city. Over the vox the voice of the enraged primarch could be heard: “LET NONE LEAVE ALIVE! SHOOT ANY THAT ESCAPE THE CITY!” Azkellon had to quickly amend those orders to ensure that the slaves they rescued would survive. Then he voxed in with the other squad of sanguinary guard to get a status report on the evacuation of the imperial diplomats. Luckily they were almost out of the city and operational groups secundus and tertius hadn’t said anything so it was to be assumed that their part went to plan and there wouldn’t be any planetary reinforcements arriving in the city anytime soon. The squad tended to the malnourished slaves and wounded gladiators as best they could and then embarked on the safest possible route out of Desh’ea. The mortals would slow them down but leaving them behind wasn’t much of an option. Besides, mother had always reminded them that they were once mortal as well.
When they were about half way towards the extraction zone, they passed a squad of blood angel terminators carrying heavy equipment and escorting a young mortal. “Barbiel, is that you?” Azkellon shouted over to them. “Yes, great herald, we have the assets you requested.” “Good, the primarch went that way towards the palace. See if you can stop her madness. … Barbiel?" The crimson paladin seemed to stare off into the space behind him. But when Azkellon saw that it wasn’t just him but the other terminators and the young Dove as well he realized what it was. “This is primarch Angron Thal'kyr. we are escorting her to the thunderhawk for evacuation.” The terminators composed themselves, nodded and then hurried along.
And so passed another tense hour of walking through empty and abandoned streets while avoiding the panicking crowds. The hysteria had spread throughout the entire city and rightfully so. There wasn’t a gutter that didn’t have a trickle of blood running through it. Azkellon knew the power of the primarchs but he was still taken aback at how much carnage a single entity could cause. If there was a god of slaughter, he would surely smile this day.
When they reached the edges of the city Azkellon was relieved to hear the turbines of the thunderhawk. Angron stood still behind him, apparently needing a moment. Surely this was the first time she saw a spacecraft. “Where will this take us?” she asked. “Far away from this sight of misery,” he answered. It wasn’t untrue. “I’ll gladly go but first I need one more person to come with me,” she turned around and walked back towards the city, “I need my Yarrow, I need my desert flower, I cannot leave without them.” Azkellon was glad he had put his helmet back on, as he was certain all the color just drained from his face. He quickly voxed in with the terminator team asking if they had managed to calm down Sanguinia. Indeed they had somehow managed to stabilize her with a combination of Doves' kind words and enough tranquilizers to kill a horde of grox. Then He asked about the Tyrant's Child and after a moment of silence got the answer he did not want to expect. The red angel had slain the young mortal in her episode of unending rage. Azkellon thanked the emperor that he was the only one who could hear that answer. He told them to bring back the body of the slain Yarrow and tell Angron that they were killed by their father. He also stressed that they should ensure that no one ever finds out the truth, especially not Angron or any member of the war hounds legion.
When Angron heard news of the perishing of her second lover, she was inconsolable. She wept until they brought her the lifeless body and she wept over them the entire flight back, and she wept at the funeral when they let their corpse drift into the sun over Nuceria and she wept for several days after. These were a rough couple days despite the planetary conquest going off with very few issues. As Sanguinia read the report her legions apothecaries made about Angron and the butcher's nails in her head, she too fluctuated between rage and sorrow. She cradled and comforted her sister trying anything to lessen her pain. Finally she decided on the surgical removal of the butcher’s nails. When her apothecaries warned her of the dangers and the possibility of killing or stunting her sister, she almost tore one of their heads off shouting: “I’d rather have a brain dead sister than a suffering one.” Alas Sanguinia decided to perform the procedure herself. Her apothecaries suggested returning to nearby Ultramar to take advantage of their medical facilities, but Sanguinia denied them for she could not bear to see her Sister in agony for a single second longer.
Preparations were made and when the day of the surgery came all the medical staff of the red tear that could attend, did so. Even the ones who weren’t required sat in the amphitheater and watched the tense procedure. Sanguinia walked onto the operating floor covered in sterile white robes and a surgical mask over her face. Even her wings were covered in sterile white bindings. They would not remain white for long. Angron was rolled in and placed upon the operating table. Sanguinia looked at the sedated and still body of her sister; she was only covered in a ghostly thin sheet. “Father give me strength”, she muttered under her breath. A dozen astarties and two dozen mortal doctors huddled around the two. One of them handed Sanguinia a custom made pair of operating gloves. She dawned them, flicked them to ensure they sat tight and spoke: “let us begin”. A mortal brought her the scalpel. ‘This shall be the blade I wield today’, She thought to herself.
The surgery was long and arduous; it took three whole days before it was over. By the end Sanquinia was exhausted, she had to focus on making perfect nanometer cuts while simultaneously concentrating on using her prescience to ensure the best possible outcome. She slumped into a chair; her otherwise perfect hair was sweaty and messy. When a doctor came in to tell her that Angron's vital signs read normal, her exhausted face managed to curl into a mellow smile. Dove wanted to comfort her after all the work she did, but she only allowed it for a moment. For Sanguinia knew that her sister would soon awake and she needed to be there. When Angron awoke and looked into her sister's eyes she smiled, feeling as if she had awoken from the nightmare that was her life on Nuceria. But when she saw Dove standing by her sister's side she broke into tears, for she remembered. She remembered not only how she lost Yarrow but she remembered how she lost Gladiolus too. The butcher's nails prevent memories from being formed while in a state of rage but that is only effective in normal men. Angron's nails had prevented her from remembering how she murdered her father and crushed her lover in the arena but now she saw it again, clear as day. She wept and wailed in the arms of her sister, soaking her hair and wings in tears.
The pain of the nails was gone but the pain of the past was one that could not be lifted. Angron engaged with her sister, for Sanguinia managed to take her mind off of the grief she still felt. But this would not last long, for soon the Conqueror arrived carrying the war hounds legion, forcing the two sisters to separate. After this Angron fell into a deep deep depression. Ordered to lead men she barely even knew and on board of a ship she found to be unfamiliar, Angron felt even more alone than in the slave pits of Nuceria. Not even the slaves she rescued were there to accompany her for she had sent them away to a paradise world, far away so they may never again be forced to fight. Angron was alone again, she was frightened again and most of all: she was in a cage again. She locked herself in her chambers, where she sank deeper and deeper into grief and sorrow. When her marines came and tried to talk to her she lashed out in desperation, killing more than a few. Even though the nails were removed, she still felt like she was only here to endure a life of suffering and torment.
submitted by clinical_Cynicism to PrimarchGFs [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 23:20 AdministrativeEnd282 Is LinkedIn's "Your Application Was Viewed" Notification Reliable?

Hi everyone,
Is the "Your application was viewed" notification on LinkedIn accurate or meaningful? I applied for a position back in February and went through four extensive interviews. However, they stopped responding to my thank-you letters and follow-up messages about four weeks ago. Today, I received an email from LinkedIn saying, "Your application was viewed." I'm not sure if this is accurate since I have the impression that they passed on me. It's a big company, so I doubt they're reconsidering my application. Any insights?
Thanks
submitted by AdministrativeEnd282 to recruitinghell [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 23:07 moon_gay I got a job after 4 months of unemployment! Here's the data I collected / AMA

I worked in schools for a total of 4 years and taught high school English for 1.5. By the time I started as a full classroom teacher, I knew it wasn't the right fit for me. I moved after my first year, then took a 6-month temporary assignment fulfilling a leave. At the end of my 6 months I was asked to stay on because the teacher I was covering chose not to return. I made the tough decision to leave for my own mental health, and 4 months of unemployment ensued as I actively searched for a new career.
During those 4 months I applied to 123 positions and attended 26 interviews at 17 different companies/organizations. Let me say first that I do not wish this job market on anyone. It was relentless. I have previous experience in the nonprofit sector, a master's degree from an ivy league, a restorative justice certification, and had several direct referrals from friends and colleagues, and it still took me several months of full-time searching to get an offer.
I now work as a lobbyist/coalition coordinator at a mission-driven nonprofit that fights for public education funding and reform. It's hybrid and much more my speed, and I make the same as I did teaching. I get to talk to legislators about how unsupported I was as a new teacher, and I get to connect with parents at under-resourced schools and empower them to create change.
I'm also doing 1099 work as a legal assistant and I'm signed up with a tutoring company -- and juggling 3 jobs feels extremely doable compared to teaching. People mean it when they say that we can do anything after surviving this job.
Anyway, I collected data throughout my interview process and thought it would be helpful to share some of the highlights, especially for people in English/History who aren't sure what kind of jobs to apply for.
That was a LOT, but hopefully it is helpful to someone getting started on their journey! There is light at the end of the tunnel. I felt hopeless for so long, but I finally feel mentally healthy and cared for at my new position. If you have any questions or want to know more please AMA!
submitted by moon_gay to TeachersInTransition [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 22:59 silentowl996 Failure

Hello people with neck pain, hope you are having a wonderful day so far :D
So as the title says, how do you guys deal with failure or unsatisfied patients? 3 weeks ago i had a patient come for endo on 25 ( upper 2nd premolar ), first visit was access cavity, 2nd visit was mechanical prep and she was scheduled later for a 3rd visit for obturation and final restoration. She returned after first visit with mild pain on biting but all of her symptoms were relieved, after second visit everything was fine, i finished the mechanical prep and put teflon and temporary filling, she went home fine with no signs of anything that went wrong, 45 mins later, she calls screaming in pain and that she has a swelling, i told her to come back to the clinic, she came and i removed the temporary filling and teflon, the palatal cusp was tender to percussion she wouldn't let me touch it, but after like 10 mins of removing the temp filling she said there is no pain anymore and her mild swelling subsided.
I tried to calm her down and comfort her of course and she left the clinic satisfied that the pain is gone.
This was on Saturday and her next visit was on monday for the obturation. Monday comes and she doesn't show up, my front desk calls her and she says that shes not coming in any more.
Since then i have been hunted with guilt that i have done something wrong. I also really care alot about my patients ( this might be a problem but i don't really know how to get over this ).
And to be frank, I also really care alot about my reputation cause i'm still starting out in this new clinic and this has happened. I had done around 15 cases of endo in this clinic including lower molars and other premolars and nothign like that ever happened.
So my questions are:
1.How do I avoid something like that happening again if I did something wrong?
  1. Am i at fault for caring so much ?
Thanks for your attention and I certainly wait for your feedback.
submitted by silentowl996 to Dentistry [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 22:38 Virtual_Spend_4154 My grandparents are threatening to kick me out if I begin HRT. What should I do?

I’m 22 ftm, and I live with my grandparents. They requested I live with them to help them out.
I’m honestly really devastated at the moment so I’m not sure what to do or say, I’m sorry if this post is messy. I intend on starting HRT on Monday, taking a low dose of Testosterone. I’ve known I was a man since I was 14 years old, and I experience dysphoria with my voice and looking feminine. I’ve socially transitioned, and my school and job accept me for who I am.
My family, though, all have varying levels of disagreeing with the LGBTQ. I came out when I was 19. My uncles are the types of guys to assume all gay men will force themselves on them, my dad told me I will never be a real man and that I’m a beautiful girl, and anyone who referred to me by my proper pronouns or name were essentially bullied into misgendering and deadnaming me. I only know this because a former ally told me he can no longer respect my identity because he “needs to be on (his) wife’s side.” I understood, but it hurt.
Flash forward to now. I dress androgynous and occasionally wear a dress because- let’s be real- dresses are super comfortable. Who WANTS to wear pants all the time? Not me, even if I’m masc aligned.
That being said, my gender dysphoria has been particularly bad- to the point where I did something drastic last year that took me a while to recover from. After healing from it, getting a job, and finishing out my semester in college, I went to a gender clinic that would work with my health insurance to see what options would be best for me.
After about two hours of discussing my personal journey, my family’s medical issues, and discussing the options they can provide, we decided biweekly low dosage testosterone injections were the way to go for how I’d like to present. They draw my blood, see that I’m medically fit, and schedule an appointment a month out for me to get my first testosterone injection in their office so I know how to do them at home.
Last night, my grandmother, 64F (who, by all accounts, is one of my most liberal family members) calls me down to talk after I come home from work. She pulls out a letter that she had opened addressed to me by my preferred name. Again, she knows I’m trans. I’ve explained it to her before, but she’s always been subtly doubtful. It’s small things like “you think you’re a boy” and “you call yourself Dylan” as opposed to just saying I’m a boy or that I go by Dylan. Honestly, the second one sounds like I run around and talk in the third person and everyone calls me by my legal name, which amuses me a little, but is still pretty disrespectful.
The letter is from the clinic, and it shows the date of my upcoming appointment. She said my grandfather (75M) gave it to her, and not to me. They opened my mail without my permission, which is illegal, but they do it all the time. My grandfather mentioned that it was the same place I could get hormones, and if I did that, he would kick me out. My grandmother seemingly agrees with this, and told me that, and that he’s very anti-lgbtq.
There’s a few problems with this story I couldn’t process at the time: - My grandfather was one of the first people I came out to, and he was very accepting of me. This was only three years ago, but I understand his memory and personality may change drastically in old age. He even bought me my first binder! - My grandmother was openly against me getting HRT, and always has been. - My family (her sons mostly) has claimed she’s very controlling and has “always wanted a little girl.” I was her only granddaughter and her daughters, so I feel like that may also affect her. - She has constantly put in my head that I am intellectually disabled. I can agree I’m behind the curve for people my age, but not so much I need to be monitored and watched over for the rest of my life like she seems to imply
That night, I sobbed in my car because of the betrayal. I thought she loved me, but I think I love my grandmother more than she loves me, sometimes. Or maybe just not in the same way.
Tonight, she and I will have dinner out. I don’t have the energy to fight, but I’ll record our conversation if it comes to that so I can organize points at a later date to discuss with her. I won’t be cancelling my HRT, and I have resources in case she does kick me out, but it never really hurts to have more. Thanks for reading, I’ll update later tonight.
submitted by Virtual_Spend_4154 to Advice [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 22:35 eidlhope EIDL - $330K - Sent To Treasury, Coming Back To SBA, Hardship Application Sent

I have lurked on here for months now and this sub has provided me with a great amount of resources that are beginning to help me out of the situation I have long been in, finally able to see some progress.
Back in February, I received notification that my loan had been transferred to Treasury for collection. Despite my repeated attempts to reach out, contacting them proved futile. Even regular conversations with the SBA yielded no solution to reclaim my loan.
Recent posts here mentioned successfully moving loans back to the SBA using the EIDL Dispute template
https://docs.google.com/document0/d/1QMkBpRqO1T2JT0J6QqPFvivp-OeqEjXCciLNpETycMs/mobilebasic?pli=1
Personalizing it with assistance from both Chatgpt and Gemini, I crafted what I thought was a good enough letter. I sent it to [CovidEIDLServicing@sba.gov](), among other suggested emails. Only this particular email acknowledged receipt through Mailtrack and responded.
It took 9 days to receive the response. It included the hardship application and instructions to send it back to the email above. The application also requires to include your YTD P&L for loans over $200. Both were provided the same day. One hour later, I received this auto response
"Thank you for contacting the U.S. Small Business Administration Covid EIDL Servicing Center. We have received your request and forwarded it to the appropriate department for review. Please allow 7 -10 business days to process your request. Repeat submissions to [CovidEIDLServicing@sba.gov](mailto:CovidEIDLServicing@sba.gov) may result in a delay in your request being processed.

This email box is not currently providing status updates. If you have questions regarding the status of your request or require further assistance, please call 1-833-853-5638 (Monday through Friday from 8:00 am to 8:00 pm Eastern Time) or, if you are hearing impaired, hard of hearing, or have a speech disability, please dial 7-1-1 to access telecommunications relay services.

The MySBA Loan Portal is now live! The MySBA Loan Portal is a new portal where borrowers can view their loan balance, make payments, view statement, and contact customer support in one place. Borrowers can visit https://lending.sba.gov to login or enroll."
Though I'm not one to frequently engage in comments or posts, having experienced firsthand the anxiety and hardship this situation can induce, I felt compelled to share my experience. I hope it offers a ray of guidance to those facing similar challenges.
submitted by eidlhope to EIDLPPP [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 22:31 VarietyNo3453 I need help connecting some dots for an emergency call...

Hi everyone,
I'm a 25M Paramedic and I'm looking for any reasonable explanation/hypothesis for the presentation of a patient I treated recently. I was dispatched to 44M who was delivering mail when he became unresponsive and was to be in cardiac arrest. This was witnessed by the homeowners of the residence. I live in a rural area, so when I got on scene, CPR was in progress and was initiated by volunteer first responders. Althought the patient was apneic, the patient had a strong carotid pulse, sinus tachycardia around 130/140 bpm. The patient was not responsive to painful stimuli. Being that my community is small, one of the first responders on scene knew the patient personally. They were very confident that the patient had no significant medical history and does not use drugs/alcohol (later confirmed by the spouse). When I realized that the patient had a pulse, I asked myself the rhetorical question: "Why would a young/healthy individual who felt well enough to go to work suddenly become apneic?" After thinking through various differential diagnoses, I was suspicious of an opiate overdose. The patient's pupils were constricted (although not pinpoint) and equal, non-reactive. The patient was maintaining a blood pressure of 140 systolic and capnography was consistently in the 20's- low 30's with a supraglottic airway adjunct. SpO2% was initially 75-80% and increased to 85-90% throughout transport. With a high index of suspicion for an opiate overdose, I administered 2mg of Naloxone intranasally. The patient began to ventilate spontaneously within 1-2 minutes of administration. Although, the quality of ventilations were very poor, so we continued assisting ventilations with a BVM. The patient was extricated and I was unable to obtain IV access, so I performed an IO on the patient's proximal tibia without complication. The patient did not retract or respond in pain at all with IO initiation, and I fast pushed 50CC off NSS. However, since the patient's respiratory drive had improved with the Naloxone, I was fairly confident that opiate overdose was the primary cause of the patient's condition. I administered 40mg of Lidocaine for IO analgesia (in case the patient did become more responsive) and an additional 2mg of Naloxone via IO. The patient's ventilation quality improved. The patient began fighting the assisted ventilation and the supraglottic airway. The patient began reaching for the I-gel and trying to sit up. We extubated the I-Gel and the patient continued to breath spontaneously about 20 resps/min with 15 L/min via non Re-breather. After transporting the patient to the hospital, the ED performed RSI. When I brought another patient to that ED later that afternoon, the ER doc informed me that the patient I had brought in earlier was found to have an intracranial hemorrhage and had a seizure. The spouse reported to the ED that the patient had been complaining of neck pain from an injury sustained "while moving a cow." It was described like a pulled muscle (not a traumatic injury) and the patient did not take anticoagulant medication. I asked the doc "Did the toxicology screening show any evidence of opiates?" The physician gave me a skeptical look and said "No?" I responded with "Well we administered naloxone twice and the patient's ability to spontaneously breath improved dramatically each time." The doc just gave me another skeptical look and continued with his work. I'm sure he's seen EMS give narcan to patients who did not need it for years so I understand his skepticism. This physician is a quality physician and I have no doubt the patient was diagnosed and treated appropriately. However, it's been bothering me that if there were no opiates in the patient's system, why did the patient's respiratory drive improve not once, but twice with naloxone administration? Am I just a victim of remarkable happenstance? I hate to chalk patient outcomes up to coincidence but maybe that's the truth? Any insight or hypothesis is more than welcomed. Thank you in advance!
submitted by VarietyNo3453 to ems [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 22:30 Ben_Elohim_2020 The Nature of Family [Chapter 17]

Credit to Blue for the wonderful cover art of Trilvri
Thank you to:
u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the Nature of Predators universe.
u/EdibleGojid, author of Dark Cuts, for proofreading.
EmClear, aspiring author, for proofreading
You, the reader, for your support. I love reading your comments.
Please consider reading the works of my proofreaders as they’re all authors of excellent stories and be sure to check the links below for more of my work and beautiful art from members of the community.
[First] [Previous] [Next] [Master List of Stories, Art, and More!]
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Memory transcription subject: Sawvek, Junior Extermination Officer
Date [standardised human time]: October 5th, 2136
Hard foam presses uncomfortably up against delicate pressure points situated across the length of my entire body, building up to an unbearable ache that makes me shift and turn against the thin mattress pad. I yank at the rough old blanket I’d taken out of storage and clutch it even tighter around my body, trying to keep out the chill. The best racks, the ones near the heating vents, had already been claimed long before I’d decided to move into the Guild House’s Barracks and it doesn’t seem likely that the current occupants will be giving up their spots any time soon.
My mind is still racing from the events of last paw, replaying the scene over and over again in my dreams and in my head. The way my brother had looked at me… That look on his face when he’d seen the real me…
My paw gives a sympathetic throb in memory, still aching from where it had met the wall, but at least I had been able to wrap it up a bit and stop the bleeding. I feel like I should take it as a small miracle that it isn't broken. More medical bills are the last thing I need right now.
I turn about in the bunk once more, rolling around in vain to try and find a comfortable position that doesn’t seem to exist. Through a conscious act of will I try to empty my mind and sleep, but the very act of trying not to think about things only brings them bubbling back up to the surface of my thoughts. My heartbeat echoes in my ears, a damnable drumming sound brought about by the exertion of my own restless tossing and turning. Out in the hallway I can hear the muffled shuffling of feet and murmurs of conversation. The Guild Hall never sleeps, and it seems that neither would I this paw.
Electing to abandon the attempt as hopeless, I cut my rest claw short and get up, venturing out into the hallway. If I can’t sleep anyway then I might as well start my waking claw early, maybe get in a little exercise. It’s not so bad when it’s self-directed, almost fun in a way. If our family had the money to support it then maybe I could have been an athlete of some variety growing up. I had always possessed something of a natural physicality.
“Stop wasting time with worthless questions about what could have been, Killer.” The voice interjects, early and active today by the sound of it. “You’ll never amount to anything more than a wild predator kept on a leash.”
There’s nothing to do but sigh and carry on. It was right after all. This is it. This is my life now.
Making my way down the hallway towards the gym I find myself walking past a row of private offices assigned to some of the more veteran officers on staff. Most are empty at this claw, their occupants either asleep or off doing other work. One room in particular catches my attention though, the one belonging to our newest PRED Team Commander.
The door leading inside is open and ajar, seemingly forgotten in the midst of more pressing business and granting me a look inside. The entire room is a mess, papers and binders strewn about everywhere with official looking documents littering the floor. A map of the city decorates the otherwise unadorned and impersonal space. On its face it hosts a variety of multicoloured pins, all connecting seemingly arbitrary locations as well as photographs of people and places from the records department. The face of the former PRED Team Commander, Vrienna, looks out at me once again with the same cruel eyes that decorate the memorial wall. Beside her photo are another pair of eyes, a pair I recognise, but not one I would have expected to see here.
Trilvri, my brother’s creepy coworker, the one who’d brought him home the night he’d drunk himself into a stupor, stares out at me from the wall. He was younger in this photo, barely of age, if even that, and dressed in a regulation space corps flight suit, but I could still recognise him. Trilvri’s eyes appear somehow more lively than when I had met him in person, though it does nothing to improve his overall disposition, looking, as they are, as if behind them resides only hatred and a feral desire to kill and rend. Come to think of it, he had mentioned he used to be in the corps hadn’t he? ‘Used to’ being the operative word. When I’d asked he hadn’t seemed particularly fond of his time in the service…
Situated as he is next to Vrienna like that, their pitch-black wool and evil-looking eyes bear a striking resemblance. It was the exact same sort of predatory expression that bore into your soul, the kind that made me feel weak and exposed, the same kind that was worn by-
“What do you think you’re doing in my office?” A voice asks from behind, nonplussed, but with a casual depth of power and authority behind it that makes me freeze on the spot.
“Commander Glagrig, Sir!” I turn about on the spot, fixed at attention in the doorway as I stare up at the man himself. “I’m sorry to intrude. I noticed someone had forgotten to close the door so I was just going to secure it.”
“I see.” Glagrig doesn’t seem to believe a word of it, but neither does he seem inclined to press the issue. “At ease. Tell me, do you recognise the man in the photo there? Have you ever seen him before?”
“No, Commander.” I lie reflexively as I shift to a parade rest, not fully knowing why, but knowing that whatever is going on I want no part of it, for me or my brother. It’s only after the fact that it occurs to me that lying might be worse than telling the truth.
“How… regrettable.” The prestige officer says plainly and I can’t tell whether he believes me or not. “If you do ever catch sight of this individual, then be sure to let me know immediately.”
“Y-Yes, Commander.” I subconsciously swallow with apprehension, hoping that he doesn’t notice. I want nothing more than to run away as quickly as I can, but I haven’t been dismissed yet.
“Junior Officer Sawvek, was it?” Glagrig carries on, looking me up and down, dissecting me with his eyes. “You have quite the interesting record on file and Officer Intalran is quite adamant about your potential. Your simulator results speak for themselves, even if they are just simulations.”
“Thank you, Commander.” I can feel myself growing dizzy as I answer with uncertainty.
“Don’t thank me,” the all-consuming void in front of me replies with no hint of warmth, “just remember that your performance is under evaluation. It’s in my interests to keep note of promising young aspirants who might someday join my team, and I would hate to see you squander your talents.”
“I-I understand, Commander.” I flick my tail in agreement, straining not to look away towards the floor.
“Dismissed.” Glagrig brushes past me as he enters his office, moving to shut the door behind himself.
“Um, Commander?” I ask just before the door shuts, feeling a beckoning call of curiosity that even the predatory prestige exterminator couldn’t crush. “If you don’t mind me asking… Why do you have all that stuff up on the wall there?”
The door opens again, just a crack, and I can feel my superiors' weighty presence bearing down on me, almost suffocating in its intensity. “It’s simply a personal matter. I have reason to believe that the prior investigation regarding the kelach incident was conducted according to… insufficient standards. The predator responsible was never found and I intend to remedy that deficiency.”
“How hard could it be to find a kelach?” I tilt my ears in confusion. “They're huge!”
“Despite initial reports,” he answers with an ominous, cold tone that sends a chill up my spine, “it may be possible that we're dealing with something far more dangerous than just a kelach.”
“T-Thank you, Commander.” I flick my tail in appreciation and the door closes.
I breathe a sigh of relief as the malevolent aura recedes. That was too close.
“And you’re a complete moron going back to ask him more questions afterwards, Killer.” The voice rises with amusement. “What? Do you want him to figure you out and turn you to cinders? Only a matter of time, Killer.”
“Ugh, shut up.” I mutter under my breath, quickly turning back around to make sure Commander Glagrig didn’t hear me, but when no reprisal comes I quickly depart. If I’m gonna be stupid I should at least try not to do so right in front of his office.
As the imminent threat of our in-house prestige exterminator dwindles so too does the energy driven by the adrenaline of the encounter. It figures that the moment I roll out of bed I want to take a nap again, but I know the moment I lie back down I’ll be back to full wakefulness in an instant. That’s just how that sort of thing works. With that in mind there’s really only one solution, a big, steaming hot cup of tea.
Making my way towards the tea machine I spot Jonsco, the feisty little primitive that mans our dispatch centre, smacking the top of the dispenser with a clenched paw while holding a mug underneath it.
“Is the tea machine fixed?” I ask as I pull out a mug from the cabinet myself.
Jonsco sighs heavily and shoots me a combative glare. “For the last time it’s not my brahking job to fix this damn tea machine! You got a problem with that then you can go pester someone else about it!”
I shrink back under the harsh rebuke. Jonsco may be small, but there was as much rage and fury condensed into that little package as anyone else in this department. Maybe more.
“I… I didn’t mean to imply…I just wanted to know if it was working again or not… Sorry.” I sputter out, feeling properly admonished as I look away towards the ground.
Jonsco looks at me quizzically, his hard glare softening somewhat as he seems to truly see me for the first time before returning to his usual scowl.
“Right…Whatever you say…” With one final smack the machine coughs and chokes, sputtering to life with a struggle, and a small trickle of freshly brewed tea begins to fill Jonsco’s cup. “The machine is on the fritz again as usual, but if you hit it just right, do a little percussive maintenance, then you can get it started again.”
“Thanks, Jonsco.” I lean back against the wall and watch as the mug slowly fills, impressed by the primitives know-how. “That's actually pretty smart of you.”
“For a ‘primitive’ right?” The words are barbed and spiteful, but lack his typical enthusiasm, more of a simple statement of fact than a real question. I couldn't exactly deny it, those had been my thoughts, and so the silence drags on awkwardly, marked only by the splash of tea falling into the steadily rising pool.
“What are you doing here at this claw anyway?” I eventually ask, dodging the question entirely. “We’ve still got at least another half-claw until our crew's shift is supposed to start.”
“I could ask you the same thing, you know?” The angry little dispatch operator retorts. “I'm here early working an overtime shift so I can afford to put food on my family's table. It's expensive feeding that many mouths. What's your excuse?”
“I had a fight with my brother…” I rub the back of my neck as I turn away abashedly, “moved out of the apartment and into the barracks full time… couldn't sleep…”
“Well then you should hurry up and work on patching things up with him.” Jonsco looks at me with an uncharacteristic hint of sympathy in his eyes. “Your family are the only ones who might actually care. This Gods-damned place is a slyther’s nest and no one here gives a speh about you or your problems. If you want my advice, you should do your best to spend as little time in this cesspool as possible.”
With his cup now full, Jobsco steps back from the machine and begins walking out towards the main hall.
“Thanks, Jonsco.” My words stop him in his tracks as he walks away from me. “I appreciate it.”
“... You're welcome.” He says after a short pause, glancing back to look at me one more time before leaving. “See you around, Sawvek.”
Taking advantage of the tea machine while it’s still mostly working, I fill up my own cup and drink deeply of the warm, fragrant beverage. The taste is bitter and unpleasant, just about the quality I would expect of this Guild Hall, but even at the first taste it’s evident that it’s been loaded with an extra strength dose of caffeine. I down the drink quickly and rinse out the cup before continuing on my journey towards the training hall. Fatigue begins to fall away as I walk, bit by bit as the drug makes its way into my bloodstream, blocking off sleep receptors and energising me. I know I’ll probably pay for it later, no amount of caffeine can actually replace sleep, but for now it feels good and I can see how some people can get addicted to the stuff.
A loud, metallic clanging emanates from the gym as I approach, something unexpected for this time of paw. No one's reserved space in the gym for this claw and not many people are industrious enough to sweat on their own initiative. Peeking my head inside the door I spy Bikim, the perfect, privileged, ‘holier than thou’ brahkass occupying the otherwise empty weight room. His irritatingly handsome face is taut with strain as he performs a series of weighted squats, his back and leg muscles straining underneath his short-cropped wool, and he pants heavily under the exertion.
I’m half tempted just to leave and go back to bed despite the fact that there’s no way I’d be getting any sleep with the tea running through my system. It’s too early in the paw to deal with Bikim’s speh. Before I can slip away unnoticed though, he spots me. I give a heavy sigh and continue my way inside. There's nothing to be done for it now. Trying to back out now would only make things worse later, a sign of weakness.
“What… Do you want… Predator?” Bikim asks between gulps of air as he reracks his weights, practically hanging off the bar to support himself on shaky legs.
“Good paw to you too, Bikim.” I say, forcing civility into my tone. “I’m here to use the equipment. Same as you. I'm allowed.”
“Whatever…” He eyes me with suspicion. “Just keep your distance… I don't want to catch any of your taint.”
“Believe me,” I flick my tail out in irritation, “I intend to.”
Looking around the room for available spots, I march my way over towards a cable machine on the opposite side of the room. Not nearly as far from Bikim as I would like, but the farthest I can get without leaving the weight area entirely. Bikim watches me all the while as I seat myself down and begin adjusting the machine. Eventually he grows tired of watching me fumble around with the machine and returns to his own exercises with a displeased flick of the tail, quite obviously judging me for my lack of experience with the equipment.
A tense sort of quiet settles over the room as we each go about our business, trying our best to ignore one another. Bikim slowly winds his way around the room, cycling from station to station to exercise all the different parts of his body in sequence before repeating it all again. He seems to bypass my corner of the room, glancing over at me with each repetition of his pattern. For myself, I stay put where I am, taking advantage of the varied exercises offered by the versatile machine to experiment with different muscle groups. Occasionally I slip up, dropping the weights with a loud clang that always draws Bikim’s ire. Every time he seems just a bit more disgruntled, a bit less patient. Eventually, the constant disruption reaches a tipping point and the pompous, self-entitled jerk walks over to confront me.
“Do you always do this?” He asks rhetorically. “If you keep slamming the weights like that you're gonna break it. Your form is speh so either fix it or lower the weight so you don't have to keep compensating. Better yet, just leave. You’ve been monopolising the cable machine for almost half a claw now. I don't know why you're even here in the first place.”
“Oh, look at Mr. Know-it-all thinking he can just go around telling us what to do, eh Killer?” The voice rises to the challenge. “Where does a guy like that who's been handed everything his whole life think he can get off with telling us how we should be doing anything?”
“Brahk off Bikim!” I don't even try to reign in the predator inside, feeling justified in letting it roam free for once. “I didn't ask for your advice and you don't get to kick me out of the weight room just because you can't wait your turn! I'm here because I don't have anywhere else to go! Ever since Intalran dragged me into this stupid Guild this brahking job has taken over my entire life! I don't even have a home to go back to anymore!”
Bikim's body tenses at my tirade and his tail flicks out aggressively like a whip.
“That's your own damn fault, predator!” He shouts back, eager for the excuse to vent his own frustrations. “Maybe if you weren't just some blood-starved beast out roaming the streets then you wouldn't be here right now! I’ve read your file! You got a history of herdless behaviour and physical altercations! Someone should have institutionalised you a long time ago, but someone took pity on you and let you slip through the cracks because of your poor dying mommy! They should have known it would come back to bite them! A normal, functional member of the herd wouldn't even think to pick a flamer up off the ground and burn another person to death with it! But you? You did it instinctively! You revelled in it!”
“You think that was easy for me!” I get up and walk towards him as I yell incredulously. “You think I asked for that to happen! You think it was fun for me to get choked out and almost eaten! That thing I burned wasn't even a person anymore! It was a predator in the middle of a feeding frenzy! So yeah, I did what I did, and you know what? It's a good thing I did! If I wasn't a freak of nature then that thing would have kept on going and kept on killing! Last I checked, preventing that sorta thing was supposed to be your job, but I had to be the one to step up! Now I have to live with the consequences of my actions every paw, knowing that I’m a Protector-damned killer that doesn't belong anywhere! Maybe you, in your infinite wisdom, would've known the perfect thing to do in that situation, but I’m not you! I’ve had to work and struggle for every little thing I have! Not just had it handed to me on a silver platter!”
“Oh, so you got me all figured out do you?” Sarcasm drips from Bikim's mouth as he looks down on me. “You don't know me. You don't know my life or what I’ve been through, how hard I’ve worked to get where I am. You just see the end product from cycles of effort and assume that it's always been that way, that it's always been that easy. It hasn't.”
“Yes, I’m sure you had it so hard growing up Bikim.” Saying it aloud almost makes me laugh. “You’re such a child of privilege that it drips off of you with every move you make and every word you say. I hate people like you, thinking that you're better than everyone else just because you were lucky enough to be born into wealth and status. Try living like the other side for a change, scrounging for every credit just so you can afford to eat, and then try to tell me how hard you had it with a full belly and a warm home!”
“You’re right, predator,” Bikim says contemptuously, “I am a child of privilege. My family has a long and decorated military tradition, my father is a captain for the space corps, a brahking hero, and I’ve reaped the benefits of that. That privilege came at a cost though, and that’s called expectations. Second best is not good enough and I've had to put in ten times the effort as anyone else my whole life just to meet standards! At least you grew up with a father who was there for you and loved you without the condition that everything you do is perfect!”
“All that talk about reading my file and you didn't even get past the first page did you?” I snap at him with a snarl. “ I didn't grow up with a father at all! He's been dead since I was in elementary school! Killed in action! I barely even remember him anymore!”
That one seems to give Bikim pause, but I’m not done yet.
“If you and your whole family are such a bunch of brahking heroes then how come you're here, working as a common garrison exterminator in a run-down backwater city like this?” I taunt. “Shouldn't you be out gallantly fighting the Arxur with one of the fleets or on a colony pacification force rather than making my life here harder than it already is?”
“That's the price for failing to meet expectations,” Bikim quiets down, drawing away from the world and into himself, “the price for knocking up a beautiful, wonderful girl right after graduation and refusing to get rid of it afterwards. You get cut off. You lose that privilege, and you do whatever you have to in order to provide and try to be a good role model for your son.”
Now that one threw me for a loop. In the short time I’ve known Bikim I’ve had a lot of thoughts about him, few of them good, but never would I have expected him to be the type to take responsibility… For anything. Still, there is one thing about his story that doesn't line up…
“Oh really?” I take a step back as I watch for his reaction closely. “I seem to recall Jonsco mentioned just the other day that your wife had left you for a Human.”
“Don't you bring that brahking primitive into this!” Bikim's anger flares in an instant before returning to a subtle simmer of regret. “We’ve just been having a… a rough patch in our relationship. I’m not giving up on us. I’ll win her back. She's just… confused and being taken advantage of! It's all that damn predators fault!” Bikim sighs and sits down on a nearby bench. “You're not the only one whose had something taken from them because of this job. You're not the only one without a home to go back to.”
Looking at Bikim now, a sad, pathetic man moping on the bench with nothing better to do on his rest claw than to try to externalise his inner pain… I find it hard to stay angry at him. He's still a narcissistic brahk ass and a complete jerk, but it's hard to truly hate someone when you actually know them. I had made quite a few assumptions about him when we first met, and he certainly hadn't helped my impression of him since, but… perhaps I was wrong to judge him so harshly?
“Nah,” the voice chortles, “he’s a piece of speh that got what he brahking deserves for being an insufferable prick.”
Overhead the intercom crackles to life and I can hear Jonsco's voice reverberating over the airwaves.
“Officers Vaesh and Sawvek please report to the briefing area for assignment. Repeat. Officers Vaesh and Sawvek please report to the briefing area for assignment.”
“Sounds like it's time for your first field assignment, Kid.” Bikim says, staring up at the intercom. “At least it gets you out of my wool. Try not to brahk it up and make the rest of us look bad.”
“Hmph.” I turn to leave, muttering to myself. “Stupid brahkass.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N - Hello! Sorry this one took a while. Like I mentioned before I got delayed working on my Ficnapping chapter as well as a crossover One-shot that's still in progress (but hopefully will be done soon). In other news we have new art of Sawvek's life-changing encounter in the Builder's Lane Bloodbath as drawn by Miglove and you can still find that and everything else Nature of Family in the new Master Post linked up above.
If you like the story then please remember to upvote, comment, and use the “!Subscribeme” function to be alerted to all new posts. I post as often as I can but real life has a tendency of getting in the way and my job makes it almost impossible to keep to any kind of schedule. Your engagement and support go a long way towards helping to keep me on track and motivated, so thank you very much for reading and I hope you'll stay tuned for next chapter!
submitted by Ben_Elohim_2020 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 22:24 ForsakenDrama3417 Relationship with my father

Hi,
The below post is about a 5 min read. I can’t comment about the content but I think it reads well so it hopefully won’t be the worst five minutes of your day.

I am a thirty year old man. I live with my parents but not because I need to. My father is a dementia patient and my mom is the primary caregiver so I stay at home to help her out. I have a good job. It is fully remote and I make decent money. I have had a less than ideal relationship with my father. Growing up he wasn't around much because of his job and when he was home he wasn't very approachable. He has always had terrible anger issues and from a very young age we have been conditioned to walk on eggshells around him. I have an older brother. He is married and lives with his family. We were living with him but as my father's disease progressed it wasn't possible to continue living there for both the disease and his home infrastructure related reasons. We're relatively well off so money thankfully isn't a problem.
I have always had a strained relationship with my father. He was very loving when I was a child but ever since my early adolescence he has never liked me. He loves my brother a lot.My brother had spine related problems as a kid and they had to take him to various hospitals each year and for a few years he had to wear a spinal brace so he had a strained childhood. This really endeared him to my parents. They never pushed him for anything academically or otherwise but he turned out well. He is a good person although he has his problems. As my parents never pushed him for anything they chose me as the child to exercise their high expectations. I did well in school. They had relatively high expectations of me which was fine. The issue was that in the off chance I did not meet those expectations I would be subjected to severe condemnation. And the condemnation was severe. My father, especially since my early adolescence, never talked to me like his son or a child. He always talked to me like I was some hardened criminal. There was never any affection or understanding. If I did well which I often did there were no congratulations. He did not like me having friends for he was scared I'd fall into bad company. He encouraged my brother to have friends as that would help him fit in with his physical issues. My mother wasn't very affectionate either. For her I was the child whose academic performance she could use for clout amongst her peers. She never balanced out my father's attitude towards me. Rather she encouraged it. I told her but she always dismissed it saying it wasn't so. My father was never around much to ever teach me anything but he would get really mad when I made any sort of mistake. He expected me to know everything. There was a time when he could not stand being in the same room as me and would tell me to leave. I thought this was normal until one day my aunt pointed it out. That was the first time I had an inkling that maybe this behavior wasn't normal. Until a year or so before he lost his mind completely to the disease he would taunt me indirectly in front of everyone by saying how much he liked my brother. He didn't do this to say how much he loved my brother but rather how much he hated me. He would casually call me a coward. I really despised my parents growing up. At a young age I would repeatedly cry myself to sleep thinking one day I'll a make a lot of money and return all the money they had spent on my upbringing, which they always made a point of telling me, down to the expense of the hospital for my birth, with interest and tell them that I was no longer their son. I'd change my name and piss off somewhere and never return.
I have never thought of myself as a good person. I have always thought of myself as the scum of the earth. More my parents tried to keep me away from bad company the more I was drawn to it. I lived different lives inside and outside the house. I always hung out with people who were not at my academic level and the delinquents. I had multiple accents. I started drinking and smoking cigarettes and marijuana at a relatively young age. I have always been addicted to porn. Addiction has always been a problem for me. To this day I struggle with it. It has always been the one true constant in my life. About a year and a half ago as my father's health was deteriorating fast and I could not cope with it. I was drinking heavily and got bloated and sick. Alcohol and marijuana were not just doing it for me. At that time a lot of self improvement content was coming on my youtube feed. Having never exercised in my life, I decided that I had to make an effort to change because I was now the man of the house. I needed to take responsibility so I did. I started working out regularly at home and over time I lost all my excess weight and developed a significant amount of muscle. That also helped me kick my alcohol and smoking addiction although I do still drink and smoke but about twice a week when my mind gets triggered. Working out has become my new addiction. It is hard for me to not workout these days. I have to force myself to take a rest day. It replaced my other addictions but it has not become my saving grace. Rather just another source of escape from my mind. Some days I really overdo it. I need the chemicals.
By far the aspect of my life which has suffered the most are relationships. I have never been able to be truly close to anyone be it friends, family or romantic relationships. I have always struggled with relationships but in the last few I have become completely socially isolated. I have zero empathy just like my father but unlike him I have the ability to recognize it in myself. I cannot look at anyone around me as a human including myself. I feel like an animal and the world feels like a jungle. I am affectionate in my romantic relationships but innately I don't feel any sense of love or desire for companionship. Overtime I end up resenting the person. It just feels like more responsibility. Another person I owe something to. Now I completely avoid romantic relationships altogether. I used to feel sad when I thought about these things but now I don't feel anything at all. These days I date women for a month and then ghost them. My social isolation has conversely improved my ability to charm women. I don't feel any sort of attraction to anyone anymore irrespective of how attractive they are. As I don't feel "human" I don't see them as such either. They're just another entity separate from me. I'm very observant and overtime have learnt to spot behavioral patterns especially in women. With experience I know how to initiate physical contact and mostly they're just spell bound. They feel I'm so confident whereas I don't feel anything at all. Just standard procedure. Although I don't like talking to them I continue to do so for some time until suddenly I don't. Then I don't think twice about them. I feel the same way about friendships.
I'm neither optimistic nor pessimistic. I'm just numb to the idea of the future. I am writing this because I need some perspective. Anything from advice to abuse is highly appreciated. I don't intend to go to a therapist because I can never be this vulnerable in front of someone in flesh and blood and I will never take any medication. Thank you for reading. Please drop in some comments.
submitted by ForsakenDrama3417 to therapy [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 22:24 butmydoglovesme Administrative Assistant Interview Tips ?

Hi there ! I just moved to the U.S. and this is going to be my first interview here. I am going to interview for Middle School Administrative Assistant position. Do you have any tips ? or if you have any experience related to this position, please share with me. Thank you very much !
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2024.05.15 22:20 OllyBeeGood How much notice should I give my contract job?

Hello, thanks in advance for reading. Some background: I was laid off last summer and it has been very difficult to find permanent employment that pays equivalent to what I made in my last position. I am a career executive assistant, and have about 17 years of experience. Last December 2023 I was offered a contract position for a really great company with a pretty good salary (still 20K less than what I was making before). The contract was for 7 months, until an employee returned from maternity leave, with the possibility of being brought on permanently if that employee chooses not to return. It's been very stressful, especially since I'm a single mom, to not know if I will be employed come July. A few weeks ago I got a call from a company I had interviewed for last October, so long before I had this position. Long story short they ended up offering me a permanent position making the same as what I'm currently making and VERY good benefits. I feel bad for breaking my contract, but honestly I would be stupid not to take this job.
I really respect the people and company I am working for, and what to give them a notice -- but I am genuinely concerned that if I give them a two weeks notice that they will let me go early. After being laid off and taking a pay cut, I do NOT have the savings to be able to get through more than a week of missed pay.
My question is how much notice would you give? I was thinking a week, since that is what I can deal with if they do let me go early. FYI I work in Texas, so it is an at will state.
submitted by OllyBeeGood to jobsearch [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 22:19 Secure-Way4587 Interviewing at an empty office?

I had an interview a couple of days ago, and I keep thinking about how strange it was. When I walked up to the building, the front door was deadlocked and there was a bell to ring for help. Someone came and unlocked it and let me in, and I told them who I was there to meet. It was a nice office, very clean, and with big flatscreen televisions showing information about their clients. But, there was no one at the reception desk. The person I was meeting came to greet me and walked me back to the interview room, but I didn't see a single person at any of the 30-50 cubicles except one and it turned out she was part of the interview. The interview itself was good and I did well. On my way out, the same person walked me to the door and explained they are in-office 4 days a week and remote 1 day. Based on this, I would have expected at least half of their staff to be in office but there was literally no one there. Then they asked me if I needed to use the bathroom before leaving, which was very odd in my opinion since I was leaving. In all my years I never had someone ask me this as I was literally walking to the door to leave. Then when I went out of the door he locked the deadbolt again behind me. We were in a very good area in suburbia and there is really no reason to keep a business door locked like this, especially with no one inside. There were also a bunch of cars in the parking lot, which to me seemed odd since there were only 5 people inside that I had interacted with. As a female I feel like this may have been a bad situation but I had my husband waiting for me outside because we share a car so I never felt unsafe. What would you think if you were in the same situation? Does this seem odd, like maybe the business is a front for something?
submitted by Secure-Way4587 to jobs [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 22:18 Infamous_South_2192 I got summoned for jury duty and panicking.

Hello everyone. I’m 21 years old and last week, I received my first jury duty summons letter for this Monday. I can’t stop thinking nor panicking. I have a lot going on in my life at the moment. I’ve been unemployed for over a month and I finally have a job interview on Thursday I’ll likely end up getting. I live with my mom and grandfather but they barely help me. I can hardly pay for gas or food at this point. It’s taking an incredible toll on me and if I get this job, I’ll likely be starting on Monday aka jury duty day. My fiance is also leaving for BMT soon and I’m stressed and overwhelmed with that. Once he leaves, I’ll be moving out of state to live with my father. I also have generalized anxiety disorder (which has gotten worse due to unemployment) and suspected endometriosis and am on my period atm so I’m in a lot of pain. I asked my therapist I quit seeing a few weeks ago due to my financial situation if she could write an excuse and said no due to her only being a therapist. I called the clerk today and they told me I’d need to come in to fill out an affidavit which I plan to do Thursday after the interview to state financial hardship and beginning a new job that week. I also feel it’d be necessary to list my GAD as well. What’s the likelihood of my affidavit being approved? I’m so stressed, my fiance says I’m overthinking it. But I’m so tight on money and it would be horrible to tell this job that I’d have to wait and I fear they may give it to someone else in that instance. Thank you!
submitted by Infamous_South_2192 to Adulting [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 22:18 GrimmInDarkness Torn Veil: A Priest's Descent

Detective Pierce and his colleague Morrison walked down the dark hall to the interrogation room where Seminarian Crawford Rossi awaited them.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Crawford Rossi." Pierce greeted as he walked inside taking a seat.

Rossi cradled a foam coffee cup in his hands looking up at them with dark circles under his eyes "Good evening." he mumbled.

"I want to talk to you about what happened to Father Pesci." Pierce began opening a case file he brought with him.

"Father Pesci..." Rossi spoke softly keeping his head down before looking at both detectives "He wasn't a bad man."

Morrison nods in understanding “We just need to hear your side of the story.”

Rossi’s shoulders went lax, and he leaned back looking up at the dim light hanging above them.

“It was the day before Easter Sunday. We were setting things up and there was this weird box among the decorations.” he began rubbing his hands together and looked back at the detectives.

“A weird box?” Pierce questioned.

Rossi nods “I know it seems strange but…” he paused biting his bottom lip “This box didn’t belong to the church. When I took it to Father Pesci, he said it was probably donated by someone.”

Morrison nodded and jotted down notes in his notepad “What did this box look like?”

The Seminarian began describing to them the box he had found. It was a medium ornate box the baby blue and white polka dot wrapping paper was weathered as if it had been left in the sun all day. The white ribbon was frayed and splotched with tiny specks of red. The box felt so heavy in his hands.

“Did you ever open this box?” Pierce asked.

Rossi shook his head “N-no it felt wrong.”

“So, an old gift felt wrong to you?” Morrison scoffed shaking his head.

“Since it was unopened” Rossi wrung his hands together “I put it in Father Pesci’s office that morning and by the evening it was open” the Seminarian paused looking up at the detectives.

“What of Father Pesci?” Pierce questioned “What did he find inside that box?”

Rossi sat back in his chair rubbing his hands onto his pants “He was in the corner of his office mumbling to himself and the box…” he took a deep breath and exhaled “Oozed a brownish red onto his desk.”

During the service that evening Father Pesci will have murdered an entire congregation. Their heads placed onto their laps and hands wired together in prayer. Pesci himself disappeared after leaving symbols written in blood all over the walls behind the podium. The gift box was missing and nowhere to be found along with one of the hearses.

“I’m sure the entire event has been quite traumatic for you. Since you were the one to find the service in such a grim state” said Pierce giving Rossi a knowing smile trying to give the man some comfort.

“Detectives” the Seminarian began licking his lips “Will you be able to find the father before he hurts more people?” he leaned forward looking them both in the eyes.

“Of course we’ll find him.” Morrison was confident.

Pierce wanted to relay the same energy but according to the reports they had gotten back the hearse that Father Pesci had taken was found abandoned in the next town. Which means from there the possessed Pesci walked the rest of the way to his destination.

He did however have an idea where the Father was heading. There was an older case where a clown was attending a child’s birthday party. Or what was supposed to be. When the professional entertainer got to the house he was greeted by a cult. This cult did unspeakable things to this man using him in a ritual for whatever god they worshipped. Then placed his head into the very box that he had brought the birthday cake in.

A medium box with baby blue wrapping paper with white polka dots and a white ribbon on top.

A possessed Father Pesci was heading to the place where it all started. The place where that thing that now wore him like a suit was brought into this world. Pierce looked over at Morrison who furrowed his brow.

“Thank you, Mr. Crawford Rossi we will contact, you when we find Father Pesci.” Pierce assured him who nodded anxiously looking around before getting up to leave the room.

Rossi solemnly nodded getting up from his chair. As he walked to the door to exit the interrogation room he looked back at Morrison and Pierce. “There was something else I need to mention” he spoke low making the detectives to strain their ears to listen “Before I found Father Pesci he was talking to someone. A voice I never heard before, but it filled me full of dread.”

“Why are you telling us this now?” inquired Morrison
Rossi held his hands in front of him in a silent prayer “Because I don’t think I should have heard what they were talking about.”

Pierce scratched his chin “Can you tell us what was said?”

Rossi shook his head “No…no if I do. IT will come for me next.”

The ‘it’ he was referring to must have been whatever had possessed Father Pesci. He left the room leaving both detectives to go over the information they had gathered. Morrison flipped through his notes and clicked his tongue.

“What are we even supposed to do with any of this?” he scoffed motioning to the notepad in his hand.

“Don’t worry we have plenty of information to go off. Besides I know where we will find Father Pesci and hopefully, we will arrive in time.” answered Pierce who stood up first and headed to the door.

Morrison scratched his head following behind his coworker “I sure hope you’re right.”

Honestly even Pierce himself hoped he was right too because they had a long car ride ahead of them and had to make sure they brought the proper equipment with them. They had a Priest to exercise after all.
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submitted by andersonandy3423 to Statisticshelpers_ [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 21:57 Signal_Valuable_1743 AITA For Confronting My Grandma About Her Texts To My Boyfriend?

Warning this is a long one. If anyone has seen Gilmore Girls, please picture my grandma as Emily Gilmore because I seriously don't know how they were able to capture my grandma so accurately.
This morning, I (22f) had what feels like a huge blow out with my grandma (74f) over text this morning. For a big background, I am my grandmas only living descendant. My birth mother died when I was 3 in a car accident, and she was my grandmas only child. My mother struggled with bipolar disorder and was in an abusive marriage with my father. After she died my grandparents attempted to get full custody of me and the result was visitation under grandparent rights. The court petition is available online and can be found by searching my full name, which is so great for me. Obviously, there was bad blood between my grandparents and my father. I grew up in the middle, scared to show that I loved my grandparents but also slightly distrusting of them because the stories they would tell me were different than what my father would.
I have tried to set boundaries with my grandma in the past. She calls me by my dead moms name occasionally. I ask her not to, she still slips up and does. She's inviting me to go to my moms grave, I don't feel comfortable doing that. She makes me feel guilty about no one putting flowers on their graves when they die. She's convinced I'm bi-polar despite me having been tested 3 times and being diagnosed as not bipolar. She will make passive aggressive comments about not only my but my boyfriend (23M) of 4 years weight and stretch marks. I've told her that we both struggle with eating disorders. After graduating I went from being 120lbs at 5'7 (underweight) to being 190lbs (overweight) in 4 years, some of the weight gain was healthy then the past year and a half I've put on the majority of it, becoming unhealthy. The past year and a half I have also had severe mental health struggles. I have ADHD, depression, and anxiety. I struggle to do a lot of basic things. I was seeing a therapist but then my insurance changed so I am trying to find someone new. I am on medication. I am actively getting help.
My grandma will call me 20 times in a day regularly. She'll text me more than that. When I haven't answered she has called my boyfriend at his job. She will harass my boyfriend and demand to know what I do every hour of everyday, despite him being at work apparently he's my babysitter. It is negatively impacting our relationship because he feels he's being forced into a parent role. She ruined a job interview for me one time because she wouldn't stop calling during it. I am terrified for her to show up unannounced. Luckily we live 4 hours away from each other, so I think I have a safe enough buffer. However, every weekend for the past month she has been trying to come and stay for the weekend.
Now on to the main confrontation/issue. My grandmas mom, my great grandma, offered to give me 1k a month so I could focus on finishing my degree (after this semester I have a semester & then a class left.) My only condition was that I focused on school. This morning my boyfriend sent me a text that said I needed to talk to my grandma as they were withdrawing their financial support. He sent me screenshots of their texts, I am going to transcribe them best I can without making this post too long. I feel like its getting long already lol.
GM to BF: We'll pay for her therapy. She needs talk & medicine. Her psychiatrist should do both. But the monthly 1k, so she doesn't have to work while she's getting the rest under control hasn't helped her. I'm afraid it has given her too much time alone, which is bad for her. I've worried that helping her not to have to work was a bad idea. She does much better with interaction. Maybe encourage her to come over, or take a trip with me during the next 3 weeks (my summer classes start). She needs interaction. She was much better in high school because she was so involved.
BF to GM: Will do, she has been looking at getting a summer job.
GM: Doing the monthly may be hurting more than helping. She wasn't even successful with her classes, even without the outside job. I THINK she would do things if she was here. Crafts, cards, all the extended family. Right now we're just paying her to stay home and read. I don't think the 1k will continue. It was for her to do her classes without having to work through December.
BF: I'd text her and mention that. You should talk to her SPECIFCALLY about losing the 1k.
GM: But it didn't work so why would we still do it? Classes were supposed to be her job. She completed 10 of 18 hours. She didn't do her weekly progress reports and didn't send us her finals. Never once. If that was her "job" paying her weekly, and anyone else as her boss, would she still have that job?
BF: I don't have that answer. I can't speak for her on those things.
GM: You know the answer is no. This is not helping her. This is a face to face conversation. Her story is not what I know to be the truth as I related to you.
GM: I know she lost her scholarship and just isn't telling us. I'm sure she's not proud of it. I told you earlier, that I knew she was in a bad place. That was when I needed to help her. Not after it was too late. She just said there was a cap on the amount of scholarship and she's used it. She's getting a student loan to finish. I'm proud of her for doing that instead of asking us. BUT, what I've pieced together is what I said earlier. And her loan is because she has to pay back the scholarship and tuition going forwards. Right now is the best time for her to transfer(to a college where she lives.) I knew we were in trouble when she sent me a photo of a stack of books she checked out from the library. I had zero time to read books when I was a college student, and I didn't have a job in addition.
BF: While that may be true, you also were in different classes. It's good for her to have time to do things she likes when she's not in class.
GM: I had a social life with other people. I did not stay isolated. She does well with others. Alone drags her down. Just like her mom. A powerhouse when she's involved. Depressed and anxious when she's alone. She's become totally reliant on you. She's lost her independence and drive. I know its flattering you want to be her savior, but for different reasons, its crippling for both of you.
BF: I don't want to be her savior. I really don't.
GM: Rescuer
BF: I really want more than anything for her to be self reliant so we can both lean on each other. I just know at the end of the day I will always support my girl.
GM: That's best but she has to let go & stand up. Develop a broader network to build strength, You are her core! Like a center pole in a tent. Now she needs the other stakes to have the support.
I took 14 credit hours this semester and I only dropped 1 class that was 2 credit hours because I could take it in the summer and lighten my load. I passed all my other ones with As & Bs. I misspoke to my grandma about my scholarship. I told her it was 5k and then I was out but in actuality it was 20k, 5k per semester not total. I've used 4700 so far. That still doesn't explain why she thought I had lost it but ya know. I see my friends at minimum once a week. I have 6 close friends I regularly see. I text with them daily. I grab dinner with them. I game online with them. I attend class 2 times a week. I only see my boyfriend 2 nights a week and on Sundays, and we LIVE together.
My grades conveniently became available online at the same time this conversation was sent to me. So I took a screenshot of my grades and sent them to my grandma.
OP to GM: Here are my grades. I also sent them to grandpa. Thanks so much for believing in me, not. You are the last person I want to see or talk to right now. BF showed me everything. When I am read to talk I'll let you know.
GM to BF: I cannot believe you did this. Now she is furious with me & won't talk to me. I told you that in confidence. You need to fix this. That's not good things for her to know out of context.
OP to GM: Actions have consequences. The consequence of your action is that I am not speaking to you. If you continue to message BF, I will be blocking you on his phone. Not only today, but previously, has been highly inappropriate. I am NOT a child. I do NOT need babysitting. I do NOT need rescuing by you. You are NOT my savior. Stop trying to be.
GM: *Long message trying to re-explain how the messages were worded.* I told BF you're smart and a powerhouse! I just want to see your independent spirit and get you there again. I am your biggest supporter. You're misinterpreting this.
OP: BF screenshotted everything and sent it to me before I ever said anything to you. I don't know how reading exactly what you have been saying about me is misinterpreting things. Please stop messaging me.
When I was in high school I was awake from 6:00am-2:00am. I was in 10 clubs/sports, all honors classes, I was starving myself, I slept less than 4 hours on average. I was a walking zombie that was living off a strange energy that being starving & sleep deprived creates. I was miserable. I was depressed. I was anxious. I only had time for friends in school. If you didn't have a class or lunch with me, you never talked to me. I struggled with school work at home because my adhd. I was not a powerhouse, I was fighting to survive everyday and I feel like I used up every piece of energy I'll ever have then.
This is where we left off. I feel guilty confronting my grandma about it, and feel like I should apologize. But like I said to my BF after he got upset with me for him being in the middle:
Its an incredibly overwhelming relationship that has baggage older than I am which has been put on me my entire life. It has been like this my whole life, except that until I was 18, I was the middle. I know it's a lot, but this is how she is. She is an intrusive controlling and manipulative person, while it may from from a place of care, she still is those things. Herr loving me and being kind to us does not take away the hurt and pain that she causes me. It is not care and love when there are stipulations to that care and love. She's constantly weaponizing my dead mom's mental illness against me. She wants to send me money so I don't have to work and can focus on school but when that actually helps me then I'm not nearly busy enough for her liking. She's also creating a hostile environment where I can't express if I am struggling because then it'll be "I told you so" and then I'll have to drop out of school because they'll stop providing financial support.
So reddit, AITA for confronting my grandma about her texts to my boyfriend?
submitted by Signal_Valuable_1743 to TwoHotTakes [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 21:55 erderuft Evening reading: Interview with Matteo Perez Vinlöf

Translated interview with Matteo Perez Vinlöf, who made his senior team debut at the end of the game against Wolfsburg. From Swedish football site Fotbollskanalen, link here. Thought it might be an interesting read for you guys.
May 23, 2001.
That was the last time a Swede represented Bayern Munich's senior team in a competitive match, according to the Transfermarkt database. Patrik Andersson played 120 minutes when the German giants secured their fourth Champions League title after a penalty shootout against Valencia at San Siro in Milan.
That record stood until last Sunday.
With 16 minutes remaining in Bayern Munich's 2-0 victory over Wolfsburg in the Bundesliga, head coach Thomas Tuchel chose to substitute in the 18-year-old Swedish player, Matteo Pérez Vinlöf. The left-back was rewarded for his performances in the first-team training sessions throughout the season, as well as for his contributions to Bayern II, the reserve team, and he stepped onto the packed Allianz Arena's pitch in front of 75,000 spectators.
Pérez Vinlöf joined Bayern's U19 team as a 16-year-old in January 2022 from Hammarby IF's U17 team. Since then, he has progressed through the ranks at Bayern Campus before making his debut for the senior team last Sunday.
"It was an incredible feeling. If you had told me when I was ten, eleven, or twelve that a few years later, when I was 18, I would make my Bundesliga debut for Bayern Munich – one of the biggest clubs in the world, if not the biggest – I would never have believed it. I still haven't fully grasped it. I haven't taken it all in. It feels absolutely fantastic," Pérez Vinlöf told Fotbollskanalen.
But despite the 75,000 spectators in the stands, the 18-year-old didn't manage to absorb much from his surroundings.
"At the moment, there was so much adrenaline and focus on playing the match. I think in the first few seconds when I ran onto the pitch and looked at the crowd, you can see in the video that I'm smiling there. After that, I quickly switched to not thinking about anything at all, really. Not about the crowd or the moment. Then I just tried to do my job as well as possible."
How did you feel about your performance during the time you were on the pitch? How was it playing at the Bundesliga level? "It was a solid performance. My goal, or my mindset, when I entered the match was to play maturely and safely. It was my first match at the highest level, so I just tried to ease into it slowly but surely. I didn't have any experience of it before and didn't know what the tempo or the level of the other team would be like, so I tried to step into the game bit by bit and play quite safely. A good start, but I feel like I can do much more."
What did Thomas Tuchel say to you before you were about to come on? "He wished me good luck and told me to go out and enjoy the special moment. He also joked about how long my surname, Pérez Vinlöf, looked on the jersey. Then, of course, he gave me some instructions and such."
"Before the match, our assistant coach also gave me instructions to closely follow the game and listen to instructions that other players receive, so I would be ready in case I was called upon."
Did you know in advance that you would be substituted in? "I didn't know I would come on, but I knew it could be a possibility."
Pérez Vinlöf was informed that he would be part of the match squad against Wolfsburg after Saturday's training session with the senior team. The 18-year-old has trained extensively with the senior team during the past season while also playing matches with the reserve team.
Harry Kane, Thomas Müller, Joshua Kimmich, Leon Goretzka, Matthijs de Ligt, Kingsley Coman, and Leroy Sané. Those are just a few of the world stars the four-time Swedish U19 international has trained with and against.
The Stockholm native describes the training environment as extremely educational, with a lot of insights and high demands.
"It has been fun to train with the senior team. It's one of the world's biggest clubs, and it's the best players in the world you train with. It has been incredibly educational; you develop tremendously and gain a different perspective on what it takes to reach the absolute top level."
Pérez Vinlöf continues:
"The demands are high; everyone sets high standards for each other. Then there's incredibly high tempo and quality. I'm still in an adaptation period. There's a lot of new things to take in, but every training session with the senior team, I feel, is incredibly beneficial for my development, and I learn something new."
Do you receive a lot of advice and tips from the older players? "Yes, I do. They give concrete advice during training sessions now and then when needed. It varies what kind of advice it is, it's from game situation to game situation. If needed, they have a chat with you and coach."
Training and playing matches with Bayern Munich, can you put into words what it's like? "Now I've been at the club for two and a half years, so I'm used to the club's culture and environment. But making your debut for Bayern Munich's senior team and getting the chance to train with them is incredibly surreal. I'm aware it's happening and all, but it still feels like it's not real. As I said before; if you had told my ten-year-old self this, I would never have believed you. I'm aware of the situation I'm in, but thinking about it, it's hard to grasp."
So, what now? That's a question many are probably asking. The debut is done. Regular training sessions with Bayern Munich's senior team as well.
"My representatives handle that dialogue with Bayern (regarding the future, editor's note). My goals and ambitions are, of course, to stay here and try to establish myself in the senior team seriously, and be a player who can compete for a starting place at Bayern Munich. So, we'll see, time will tell."
submitted by erderuft to fcbayern [link] [comments]


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