Earlier this month I spent 2 weeks abroad in the UK, traveling from the US.
I packed 2 doses in a medicine pouch that had ice packs in it.
The first flight / travel took about 12 hours before getting my tirz back to a fridge. The second flight with my medication was about 6 hours without refrigeration(only the ice packs).
I took my doses as normal, as it says it’s safe at room temperatures for up to 21 days.
I noticed it didn’t seem as potent/effective. Still had a fairly regular appetite compared to what I had been used to, but just chalked that up to growing more accustomed to my 5mg dose.
The second dose abroad was much of the same— still felt an appetite. Didn’t feel the obvious effects of the medication like normal.
I was debating moving up in dose, as I thought I was just tolerating the 5mg more, but decided to stick one more month at 5mg.
The first shot from the fresh batch that was delivered has me feeling the effects as normal. Great suppression. No food noise. Appetite reduced.
So I think there’s something to the idea that my tirz just lost efficacy or potency or whatever during the travel.
Additionally— security in all 4 airports (Newark/Heathrow/edinburgh/dublin, was a breeze.
The bag with my syringes was pulled 3/4 times it went through security— and each time I explained it was a diabetes medication, and they just immediately cleared it. Was no fuss whatsoever.
Just posting for archive search purposes. Traveling with tirzepatide.

Does anyone know how to dispose of refrigerators properly for free? It still works, but the temperature fluctuates. Would be awesome if someone could pick it up, but we can borrow a truck and take to a dump if there are any recommendations?

Hello everyone,
I ordered Semaglutide on May 4th from orderly med and was told it would arrive within 8-10 days. After 10 days with no update, I contacted them, and they informed me the next day that the order had been delivered on May 10th. However, I only discovered this on May 15th, and when I went outside I found the package on my neighbor's porch.
I'm concerned because the package had been outside for several days. The pharmacy assured me that the medication is still safe, as it's designed to withstand high temperatures during transit. They also asked if the vial was opened upon receipt and suggested I use the FedEx Delivery Manager app for better tracking in the future.
My research indicates that semi-glue tide usually requires refrigeration, but this shipment wasn't in a temperature-controlled package. Now, I'm unsure about the safety and authenticity of the medication.
Has anyone else had a similar experience with medications like this? Should I discard this medication, or is it likely still safe to use? Any advice would be really appreciated!

For those wondering what the dinner was in my last post, here it is. An easy Sinner Roast.
Ingredients.
4lb fresh sinner roast cut, 2 Tbsp fine sea salt, 2 tsp freshly ground black pepper, 6 cloves garlic, 2 Tbsp grass-fed butter ghee, or avocado oil, ½ cup sinner bone broth, ½ cup dry red wine, 3 sprigs rosemary, 1 large yellow onion thinly sliced,
Step 1.
Remove roast from refrigerator about 2 hours before starting recipe to allow it to come closer to room temperature. It will still be a little cool after 2 hours, but not cold.
Step 2.
In a small bowl combine salt and pepper.
Step 3.
Use a sharp, thin knife to make 3 slits on one side of the roast (about 2-3 inches deep), stuff each slit with one garlic clove and some salt and pepper. Flip the roast over and make 3 more slits on the other side and stuff with garlic, salt, and pepper. Rub the remaining salt and pepper over the outside of the roast.
Step 4.
Preheat oven to 275°
Step 5.
Melt butter over medium-high heat in an oven-safe skillet (braising pan or cast iron). Sear all sides to brown (for about 15 minutes total). Remove roast to a plate and deglaze the pan with broth and wine.
Step 6.
Place roast back in pan and place onion slices and rosemary sprigs around it.
Step 7.
Roast at 275ºF until you get to 115ºF (about 12-15 minutes per pound, so a little less than 1 hour for a 4 lb roast). Make sure you have a meat thermometer on hand!
Step 8.
Remove to a cutting board, tent loosely with foil, and allow to rest for about 20 minutes. The internal temp will continue to rise as the roast rests. Serving temp should be 130ºF in the center for medium-rare.
Step 9.
Mix a few teaspoons of arrowroot powder or organic cornstarch with the pan juices to make a gravy. Serve roast beef with gravy and onions.
And there you have it. Enjoy.
(( OORP: Here is the link - https://kitskitchen.com/how-to-cook-melt-in-your-mouth-roast-beef-easy-recipe/#recipe ))

Hello everyone, So for the past couple of seasons I have been dealing with a poorly running system in my house. for example if its 85 Degrees outside i can only get the house down to about 74 with the thermostat set to about 64. The system is old from like 2004 and I am aware that I am due for a replacement and have gotten 2 quotes so far between $12k-$16k (which I think is high btw, what do you think? I am in the northeast.
This wasnt always an issue, the system worked great for the first couple of years after purchasing the house in 2020. Then in 2022 the capacitor went bad in the beginning of the season. I have strong DIY skills and do many jobs on my own that most wouldn't so I was more then comfortable with replacing it. I went to a local HVAC supply and the guy gave me what he had in stock and said it would work. So i replaced it and everything worked ok but I noticed some performance issues as in temperatures. About a month later I get home one night and it was almost 80 in the house I knew something was wrong, I checked the compressor unit and heard it humming but the fan wasnt spinning, so after some troubleshooting and getting the fan to kick on when giving it a spin by hand I knew the fan motor was toast. I ordered a direct replacement from Supply House and swapped it out. the replacement went smooth and I gave both units a nice cleaning at the same time. Ever since then the system has been unable to get the house 10 degrees cooler than outside temp anytime its 85 or higher outside. I have had 2 different Techs come out and look at it and one literally came out and looked at the units and listened to them and said "yea they are just old" and then charged me $150 lol the next guy was late last season, he actually hooked up a gauge set atleast and said the refrigerant level was good and everything appeared to be running fine and said the compressor is just old and I need a new system and proceeded to quote me $12k for the replacement. So the question is 1. Can something I replaced cause this to happen, and what are your guys thoughts on the issue? and 2. Is there anything that can be done to somehow increase the performance and maybe get me another season or two out of this thing.
I know this was a lot to read and I apologize for that but any info and help is appreciated. Thanks Everyone in advance. BTW the unit is a Weatherking Model 10aja3601 Manufacture date 2004 with a matching air handler.

An hour after getting back from the Mason apartment, Bruce Kenner had the distinct misfortune of meeting Bertha Henderson.
A plump, gaudy woman with wrinkles and sun beaten skin only an alligator could love, Bertha Henderson wore bright red lipstick, bright red rouge, and way too much mascara. Her tangled hair was a dull red color and her clothes - pink pants and a white floral top - stretched tight across her bulbous frame. She looked like the kind of woman who lived in a trailer with velvet pictures of Elvis on the wall and pink flamingos in the front yard.
She acted like one too.
From the moment she stormed into his office, she hadn’t shut up once. She scolded, chided, accused, and badgered, sometimes even wagging one fat finger in his face like he was a naughty little boy. Ten minutes into the dressing down and Bruce was beginning to fantasize about police brutality.
It took him another ten minutes to find out what the hell she even wanted.
“It’s my granddaughter,” she shot back, “she’s missing in your town.”
My town? Lady, this is barely my office. I share it with three other people.
“Well, if you’ll calm down, maybe I can help.”
Jesus Christ was that the wrong thing to say. She hit the roof and didn’t come down again until Bruce was this close to arresting her for assault on a police officer. “Young man, I do not appreciate the way you’re talking to me. My tax dollars are the only reason you have a job. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be working at a car wash.”
At least I wouldn’t have to deal with you.
Bruce took a deep breath and held his tongue in check. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I told you, my granddaughter is missing. If you listened to me, you’d know this already.”
Bertha produced a picture and slid it across the desk. Bruce studied it. A girl, roughly sixteen with black hair, blue eyes, and dimples smiled back at him. “She;’s with that Rossi man, I just know it,” she said bitterly.
“Who?” Bruce asked.
Rolling her eyes like he was stupid, the old woman told him the story. Jessie - the dimple faced girl - had the rotten luck of having to live with Grandma Bertha after her parents went to jail on drug charges. They lived in Sand Lake, a little town in the mountains outside Albany, where Bertha was no doubt loved and admired by all. One day, Jessie, who her grandmother lovingly described as “A little troublemaker”, ran off. Bruce didn’t blame her. He’d known Bertha for half an hour and he wanted to run off. Bertha did some snooping on Jessie’s laptop and found that the “little whore” had been chatting with an older man, Joe Rossi. Rossi, or so Facebook said, lived in Albany and worked at Club Vlad.
“I want him arrested for pedophilia,” Bertha said and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “He’s a dog just like all men. She’s probably pregnant already. Another mouth I have to feed.”
Behind the old battle ax, Vanessa appeared in the doorway and lifted her brows as if to say What a piece of work. Knowing her, she’d probably been standing just out of sight this whole time with McKenny, the elderly evidence clerk, and snickering into her hand like a little girl. LOL she called him young man.
Bertha noticed him looking over her shoulder and started to turn. Vanessa’s face went white and she ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding detection. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Bertha said to Bruce. “Meanwhile, if I don’t get Jessie back, the state’s going to stop sending me my checks. I need that income. I can’t work, you know. I have gout.”
Too bad being an asshole isn’t a job, you’d be world-famous
“I’ll go talk to him,” Bruce said.
“I want more than talk, young man, I want action.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Bertha finally decided to waddle off and ruin someone else’s day, Vanessa came in and sat in the chair the old woman had so recently occupied. “Oh, my God,” she said, “that was intense. I was this close to radioing in a 1015.”
1015 was code for officer down.
“Funny,” Bruce said without a trace of humor. He had kids going missing, a dead guy someone moved around like a goddamn Barbie doll, and now this. What next, hemorrhoids?
“What do you think? Code 1 or code 2?”
Code 1 meant top priority. Code 2 meant not a top priority. Bruce thought for a moment. It didn’t sound like Jessie Henderson was in danger. It sounded like she met a guy - granted, one too old for her - and decided to hide out with him from her psycho grandma. Maybe it could be something more, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t…and his gut feelings were usually right. “2,” he finally said. “I got shit to do.”
By shit, he meant “Talk to the families of those missing boys again.” He’d been interviewing them for two days looking for clues, but there was nothing. It’s like they just vanished. Bruce didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Vanessa said and slapped the desk.
When she was gone, Bruce sighed.
Never a dull moment, he thought.
***
Ed Harris - no relation to the Hollywood actor - had been the medical examiner for the City of Albany since 2002, and in all that time, he had never seen anything quite like this.
It was Wednesday evening and Ed was locked away in the cold, sterile space beneath the city offices that comprised his domain. With its puke green tiles, harsh lights, and cloying smells of disinfectant, the .coroner's office creeped most people out, but not Ed. He was at home here, as comfortable surrounded by toe-tagged bodies as a cactus was surrounded by desert. A thin man in his fifties with curly, steel gray hair thinning in the middle, he wore a white smock, blood stained over his clothes that made him look like a butcher instead of a low level government functionary. He had a dark and dry sense of humor, but then again, so do all people who play with dead bodies for fun and profit.
The coroner’s office was a vast, utilitarian vault segmented into multiple different rooms. Here, where the magic happened, three stainless steel tables stood in a row; a bank of refrigerated drawers kept watch, making sure nothing funny happened. One of the cold fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a hum of electricity, and water dripped rhythmically from a faucet. It was a cold, eerie place, but to Ed, it was home.
On most nights, only one of the tables was occupied, but tonight, two were. On one lay an old lady who died of what appeared to be cyanide poisoning. On the other was Dominick Mason.
Naked save for a white cloth draped over his groin to protect his dignity, Dom was the most corpsy corpse you’d ever hope to see. In fact, if you looked up dead guy in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of him. His body was pale and sunken, one side covered in purple splotches where his blood had pooled, and his eyes were closed. His abdomen was slightly distended with the expected build up of gas, and his flesh stuck fast to the bones beneath. In other words, he was text book. A normal corpse.
Mostly normal.
As men of his trade are wont to do when strange bodies mysteriously appear, Ed had opened Dom up, making a Y shaped incision from his neck to his groin. He hummed to himself as he did so, his hands wielding his sharp and shiny tools with the deft assuredness of a seasoned surgeon. Done cutting, he dipped his gloved hands into the cavity and started removing organs. A spleen here, a liver there, nothing Dom would miss. When he got to the heart, however, he stopped.
There was something…off…about it. At first glance, it was black and withered like an oversized raisin. An odd and putrid odor emanated from it and though he was familiar with the various smells and stenches the human body produced after death, this wasn’t one of them. Try as he might, he couldn’t place it, couldn’t even compare it to anything. Plucking a magnifying glass from the metal cart next to the table, he peeled back part of Dom’s chest and examined the heart closer.
That’s when things got really weird.
Dominick Mason’s heart was, indeed, shriveled, but it was not black. Instead, it was almost entirely covered by an interlacing crisscross of what appeared to be black mold. Here and there, Ed could glimpse flashes of the heart beneath: It was wrinkled and a sickly gray color. “What is this?” Ed asked himself at length. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the tray and carefully, very carefully, attempted to remove a piece of the mold for analysis. The moment the cold metal tips touched the heart, it gave a violent spasm that sent Ed falling back with a shocked gasp, the tweezers falling from his hand and clinking to the tiled floor.
The heart began to pulse like an alien egg sac, slowly at first, then more rapidly. For a moment, Ed was frozen in place, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Once you die, your heart ceases beating. That’s that. Only living hearts beat, and Dominick Mason was certainly dead. He was dead from the moment Ed first laid eyes on him earlier that day and he was dead now. Yet there was his heart, beating anyway.
It could be a muscle spasm. They usually aren’t that violent and consistent, but dead bodies sometimes do strange things. As he watched the blackened muscle expanding and contracting, however, Ed had the most eerie feeling. He went to rub the back of his neck, realized he was still wearing blood soaked gloves, and stripped them off. He was spooking himself out; he needed a break and a hot cup of coffee. He’d come back fresh and start over again.
With that mold.
Could you really blame him for being creeped out? That stuff wasn’t normal. He’d never seen anything like that before, not even in textbooks. Dom was scrawny and didn’t get enough vitamins in life, but overall, he was healthy; that mold…or whatever it was…had no business being there.
Going over to the coffee pot, which stood in the same room to save travel time, Ed grabbed a styrofoam cup. When he was done here, he planned to go home and -
A terrible, metallic clatter rang out, and Ed jumped. He turned around, and when he saw Dominick Mason standing next to the table, hunched slightly over and staring at him, an electric burst of fright shot up his spine and exploded in his brain, so strong it made the edges turn gray. Pale, hands hooked into talons, and the flaps of his chest hanging open to reveal the cavity beneath, Dominick Mason looked for all the world like a boy who’d been caught sneaking out to meet his girlfriend. A weak, involuntary, “Oh, God,” slipped from Ed’s trembling lips, and the spell was broken. Dom came alive and ran toward the door leading out to the parking lot. He slammed through it, and the sound of it crashing open and then falling closed again echoed through the empty chamber.
Shaking, panting for air, and soaked in piss, Ed sank to the floor in a sitting position, his eyes wide and staring like those of a soldier returning damaged from the front.
It was a long time before he composed himself enough to call the police.
***
Dazed and caught in a nightmarish twilight realm where nothing made sense, Dominick Mason limped painfully down the sidewalk, a stranger lost in a strange land filled with danger and hostile creatures. Barefoot and shrouded in a white sheet, he trembled with cold and struggled to ignore the dark, threatening shapes looming from the fog in his brain, shapes that would turn into unspeakable truths if he let them.
Passersby openly stared at him, their expressions either morbidly curious, disgusted, or alarmed. A man put his arm protectively around his girlfriend; a woman pulled her little boy to her breast, and another man sneered at him, his nose crinkling. Dom, his glazed eyes narrowed against the harsh glare of the many street lamps, headlights, and storefronts, lumbered headlong toward nowhere, his fear growing until he was shambling. He imagined he could hear every cough, every whisper; smell the odor of every unwashed body. Each car horn was deafening, every whiff of ass or armpits sent his stomach churning. The rustle of a passing pedestrian’s jacket jammed into his ears like icepicks, and the approaching globes of LED headlamps burned his eyes. He gritted his teeth and groaned against the pain.
The dense mist wrapping his brain made it hard to think. Like a frightened animal, he made his way on instinct alone. Home. He needed to get home. Out here, on the street, he was exposed. At home, locked away in his small apartment, he would be safe.
A car passed in the street, bass heavy rap music blaring from its open windows, and Dom’s brain exploded with agony. He threw himself against a street sign and held on for dear life, his legs weak. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he almost went down. He was also cold.
So, so cold.
People around him quickened their step; they never took their eyes off him, as though he were a venomous snake that would strike at any moment. He needed to get away from them. They were going to hurt him; people always hurt him.
Pushing away from the sign, he began to hobble once more toward home, wherever home was. He looked over his shoulder several times as he made his way down Central Avenue, and each time, he saw that no one was following him as he had feared.
No one, that is, except for the man in sunglasses.
Tall and lank with curly hair, he wore dark Aviators and a leather motorcycle jacket over a button up shirt. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets and his face showed no expression. He was always there, always a few steps closer. Outside Capital Fried Chicken, a group of people openly stared at him, He heard their whispers as he passed. What’s wrong with him? Dude’s straight tweakin. And the one that struck him the most. That guy looks dead.
Dom hobbled faster, as if to outrun the realization that he was, in fact, dead. The man in sunglasses was closer now, his footsteps so loud that Dom winced. He turned around, and the man was impossibly in front of him. Dom ran into him and bounced backward, going ass over tea kettle and landing on the former. They were in front of a church on a darkened corner, the lights here either burned out or shot out - you could never tell in Albany. Even though it was dark, Dom could see everything with crystal clarity. Dom tried to scurry away, but he was too weak to escape. Right there and then, he decided to give up. Come what may, he just wanted this nightmare to be over.
The man stared down at him, emotionless, unspeaking.
Dom squirmed.
“You’re real lucky I came along,” the man said. His tone was flat, even.
Dead.
“Get up,” he said, “I’ll take you home.”
Home?
Yes.
Dom wanted to go home.
The man helped him up, and Dom followed him into the night.
***
Bruce Kenner stood in the middle of the medical examiner’s office at half past nine that evening with his hands on his hips and stared doubtfully down at Ed Harris. The lonely cavern was alive with activity as cops went over everything, all of them looking either bemused or a mused. Bruce was neither. He’d been at home, sitting in his chair and having a beer in front of AEW Dynamite when Vanessa called. “You might wanna get down here,” she said, sounding confused, “something really strange is going on.”
Ed Harris - no relation to that one guy - sat in a straight back chair beside his cluttered desk and gripped a styrofoam cup of coffee in both hands, putting Bruce - for some reason - in mind of a monkey. When Bruce came in, the old man was white as a sheet and shook like a leaf. In the last half hour, little had changed.
“Tell me again,” Bruce said.
He and Ed were pretty good friends. He knew that Ed knew standard police procedure. Cops don’t ask you to repeat your story a thousand times over because they’re forgetful fucks, they do it because telling it again and again helps to jog loose details that you might have forgotten. Ed, therefore, did not protest. “I turned my back,” he said and chopped the chair like Jackie Chan, “and I heard the noise.”
His voice was thick, unsteady, and halting. He sounded as squirrely as he looked…and he looked pretty damn squirrelly right now.
“I turned around…and he was looking at me. He was standing there and he was looking at me.”
This was the fourth time he’d had Ed go through the story, and nothing had changed. Bruce felt something stirring deep inside his gut. It was either disquiet…or he had to fart. He opened his mouth to speak, but sighed.
“You don’t believe me,” Ed said.
“I dunno, Ed. Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk away.”
Ed flashed. “I know that, goddamn it, but this one did.”
Bruce glanced at Vanessa. She looked uncomfortable.
“Are you sure he was dead?” Bruce asked.
Ed opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, “I did the autopsy.” His voice broke on the last word, and he sounded almost like he was pleading. “His fucking liver’s on the floor. He stepped on it. The man has nothing in him. I-I’m telling you, there’s no way he’s alive.”
During the autopsy, Ed had sat Dominick Mason’s organs on the little tray table where he kept his pointy things. Mason knocked it over while getting up. Indeed, there were human organs on the floor, and one of them did look kind of squished. Bare, bloody footprints led to the exit door, up a set of concrete steps, and then disappeared in the alley behind the office.
“You said you left his heart,” Bruce said.
“And his brain,” Vanessa helpfully added.
Ed pinched the bridge of his nose like a put upon professor dealing with two particularly stupid students. “Even with his heart and his brain, he’s dead. You saw the livor mortis. He was cold, he was stiff. His heart wasn’t beating, he wasn’t breathing. He was in one of those drawers for nine hours, not breathing, no blood flow - it’s impossible. It’s just…it’s impossible. I don’t care what you think, he was dead. And even if somehow he wasn’t, I cut out almost everything. I opened his stomach, I took his spleen - you don’t just get up from that. You don’t walk away from that, much less run.”
Bruce chewed the inside of his bottom lip because he didn’t have a Twix. He didn’t look like the smartest man in the world…and he wasn’t…but he knew a dead body when he saw one, and the body they took out of Dominick Mason’s apartment was D.E.A.D. And like Ed said, even if by some freak fluke of nature he wasn’t, he couldn’t just get up and go about his day with no liver, spleen, or kidneys. Hell, Bruce had his gallbladder out and he couldn’t even walk away from that.
“You said there was something funny about his heart,” Vanessa said.
Ed finished off his coffee. “Yeah. It was…moldy. I-I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is it possible that…has something to do with it?”
“Unless the rules of biology have changed overnight, no,” Ed stated.
While Ed poured himself another cup of Joe, spilling some because he was still shaking, Vanessa took Bruce aside. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Is he telling the truth?”
For that, Bruce did not have an immediate answer. All else aside, he was a cop. He followed the evidence - and his gut instinct - wherever it led him. Ed was a sober man - he was not a drunk, insane, or stupid - and no man on earth could fake the look of trauma in his eyes. Bruce’s eyes went to the bloody footprints leading away from the exam table and his stomach roiled. It might be cliched, but there had to be a rational explanation. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The kid got up like he said, but there’s no way he was dead. Maybe…I dunno, he had a surge of adrenaline or something. I’m not a doctor.”
“That’ll only get him so far,” Vanessa said. “We’ll probably find him on the street somewhere.”
He went back to the purple splotches on Dom’s face, to his cold stiffness. There’s no way he was dead?
Bruce was confused, and he hated being confused.
“I dunno,” he said, “maybe.”
But he had the gnawing feeling that they wouldn’t. They would never find him…and Bruce would be confused forever.
Goddamn it, Mason, he thought, where are you?

So,
We bought this absurdly expensive Whirlpool refridgeratofreezer for our new house. Some $2k worth.
Unlike the cheap GE unit we had in our rental, there is no indication of opening (raised temperature)
I bought a cheap Aqara sensor to try out, but it doesn't transmit through the door.
Any suggestions for a sensor I can put in both the refrigerator and the freezer to work with HA?
Thanks
PS: I hate recaptcha.....

Our home was built in 2016, we purchased it in 2020. I wasn’t told that we had to transfer the warranties, so we do not have any kind of warranty on the units (not sure if we would still be under the warranty even if we did transfer them). We have three heating and air units. The outside AC units are Trane XR the furnaces are Trane XV95 high efficiency units.
We live in the south and our furnace units are in the attic. Two of the last three years, temperatures have gotten cold enough that our outside condensate line has frozen over a couple of times and stopped our units from running (not sure if that has anything to do with them going bad).
We get our units inspected twice a year spring/summer and fall/winter. For the last couple of years, they have noted that the compressor is going bad on one of our 2 ton units. It makes loud noises. In addition to that, they had to put 5 lbs of refrigerant in a couple of weeks ago when they were inspecting our systems. They found a leak in the evaporator coil.
My office is at the end of the line past our master bedroom. It has 12’ ceilings and is the hottest/coldest room in the house. It doesn’t really heat or cool, very well. If we end up replacing the ductwork on that side of the house, would it be worth looking into a separate zone for only the office. I would only heat or cool the office during the day. Our bedroom is only cooled in the evening and night.
I guess, I am just curious if the estimates below look reasonable. I am planning on getting a couple of more estimates. When calling them, how much information do I share below. Do I mention the master side reducing ductwork or see if they notice that on their own?
Thanks! We will probably be in our house for another 3-10 years.
Estimates for replacing the systems: 2 ton - $8,917 4 ton - $17,597 Ductwork (make return 16” and main trunk line reducing (16/14----10”) - $7,864 Total - $34,378
Issues:
4 ton evap coil leak (refrigerant – 5 lbs replaced at appointment 2 weeks ago) ---not sure how long will last * * one of the returns for the 4 ton system is located on master bedroom side hallway which is not heated and cooled area for the 4 ton---no proposed resolutions at this time
2 ton compressor valves are making loud noise and failing 2 ton ductwork return is to small and main trunk-line does not reduce causing low air flow in bedroom and especially the office *load calculation for master side calculated at 2.5 ton (1/2 ton larger then existing)
Options:
Compressor only (2ton)--$3343+tax---1year warranty on compr
Ductwork 2 ton system--$7864+tax (currently 14” entire run, wants to make return 16” and main trunk line reducing (16/14----10”)
AC and evap coil –keeping the existing furnace because its rated as 3 ton---$8917.00 +tax---10 year parts and compr (3 yr labor)
4 ton coil only---$3879 + tax
4 ton AC & coil--$11,883+tax
If looking to replace the complete system on 4ton---we could look at Lennox brand---$17,594.00+ tax---15.3 seer 2 with variable speed 95% furnace----if you decide to replace entire system, I would like to relook at ductwork on 4 ton system just double checking some things!
*If your planning on moving in approximately 3 years, I would consider the following:

Replace the evap coil(indoor cooling)only on 4 ton replace and repair ductwork on master bedroom side along with either the compressor only or the AC and coil 2.5 ton upsize—(make return 16” and main trunk line reducing (16/14----10”)

So, I have a very amateur lab, no access to glove boxes or fancy things like that.
I have been needing some AlCl3 and I'd rather not order it.
What I have been trying instead is:
1.) First making anhydrous ZnCl2 with HCl and elemental zinc and melting it (it melts at around 290C) in a round bottom flask in a powerful heating mantle.
2.) When the flask seems nice and dry and the ZnCl2 is all molten I add finely chopped aluminum foil bits in rough stoechiometric amount that I have previously dried in the oven on max heat.
3.) I then increase the temperature of the reaction flask mantle to about 380C and after a while a vigorous reaction starts, producing a white gas that I condense in another flask that I immediately connect (when the vigorous reaction starts) to the first one by a short, non refrigerated and even thermally insulated (with glass wool and aluminium foil) borosilicate glass condenser / arm (or whatever it's called, sorry). The reaction seems self-sustained enough, I stop the heating as soon as it starts.
4.) A white-yellowish product then condenses in the second flask and it has all the properties of AlCl3 that I can think of testing.
5.) I've been trying to store that AlCl3 by dissolving it in dried acetone, with limited success (ends up yellow after a few days, but if it can last one day it'll already be useful). For my use case rn, it being in acetone is not an issue.
The problems I can see are: - the short distillation arm ends up clogging, I think I might need a system to warm it to at least 180C (AlCl3's boiling point) - there is obviously residual water in the system that deteriorates the quality of the end product
As I have no access to inert gas I have been thinking of trying to flush the atmosphere of the whole system with dry acetone, but I'm afraid I'll inadvertently hit an explosive composition mixture in the reaction flask and getting my whole system to explode once the ZnCl2 + Al reaction occurs, as it is exothermic but how much so I don't know.
Does anybody know what temperatures this reaction can reach? is it close to acetone's auto-ignition temp? 380C is already not that far... so I'm reluctant to try this.
Any other ideas or advice please?
EDITs: minor stuff - format, typos, grammar...

A Microprocessor Temperature Controller is a fancy way of saying that your laboratory refrigeration device's temperature is computer controlled instead of controlled via analog, mechanical means.
If your refrigerator or freezer has digital controls, it’s highly likely that the unit has a microprocessor temperature controller. If your refrigerator or freezer has a simple knob (for example, a one-to-ten dial), the unit is fitted with an analog temperature controller.
Analog controllers are cheaper but less accurate. Microprocessor temperature controllers are somewhat more expensive but provide more accurate temperature control.
reference: https://labfreezers.net/blogs/blog/what-is-a-microprocessor-temperature-controller

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Okay, so, since the Fallout cookbook exists, I saw the Nuka Cola Float in it, and it looked good. If you don't have a ice cream machine ​(i dont either), then just get some plain store bought ice cream, and some nuka cola in a tall glass.
Nuka Cola recipe:
Nuka Cola.
Prep Time: 10 minutes Cooking Time: 30 minutes Steeping time: 12 hours
Equipment: Zester (if you don’t know, it looks like a cheese grater, but little with tiny grater holes), large saucepan, fine mesh strainer, large (4 cup? 1L?) airtight jar. I also use a sodastream, but it’s not necessary.
Ingredients:
· Syrup:
o 2 cups water
o 3 cups sugar
o Zest and juice of ½ an orange
o Zest and juice of ½ a lime
o Zest and juice of ½ a lemon
o Spices:
§ 1 cinnamon stick
§ 3 cardamom pods
§ ½ tsp coriander seed
§ Pinch star anise seeds
o ¼ cup browning sauce
o 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
· Mix:
o Club soda or some other fizzy water
o Ice
Directions:

1. Combine the water, sugar, zest of all three fruits, and spices. Boil over medium-high heat, whisking until the sugar is dissolved.
   
2. Once it’s boiling, reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for 10 minutes.
   
3. Once it’s simmered, strain the mixture into the airtight jar. Yes, it’ll be a funny greeny color. Almost like it's radioactive or something. Add the juices from the orange, lemon and lime, the browning sauce, and the vanilla.
   
4. Allow it to cool to ambient room temperature, then refrigerate for 12 hours.
   
5. Should last several weeks.
   

To Serve:

1. Mix with fizzy water at a 4:1 ratio, add ice.

Then get ya some ice cream (I would suggest vanilla, or cookies and cream.. hell, maybe ​both!), pour your new cola in the glass, plop a scoop or so in it, and boom!

Your refrigerator is the unsung hero of your kitchen, tirelessly working day and night to keep your food fresh and your drinks chilled. However, like any other appliance, it can encounter issues from time to time. From mysterious noises to insufficient cooling, fridge problems can be frustrating. But fear not! With a bit of troubleshooting, many common fridge issues can be resolved easily, saving you time and money. Let's delve into some of these common problems and their solutions.

Faulty Temperature Regulation

• Problem: Your fridge is either too cold or not cold enough, leading to food spoilage or freezing.
• Solution: Start by checking the temperature settings. Adjust them gradually and wait for a few hours to see if the temperature stabilizes. If the problem persists, it could be due to a faulty thermostat or damaged door seals. Consider replacing the thermostat or sealing any gaps in the door gaskets to maintain consistent temperatures.

Unusual Noises:

• Problem: Your fridge is making strange noises like buzzing, rattling, or clicking.
• Solution: Noises can indicate various issues such as a malfunctioning compressor, a faulty fan, or loose components. Clean the condenser coils to remove dust and debris, which can cause the compressor to work harder and produce noises. If the noise persists, it might be best to call a technician to diagnose and repair the problem.

Water Leaks:

• Problem: You notice water pooling under or around your fridge.
• Solution: Check the water supply lines and the defrost drain for any leaks or clogs. Clear any blockages in the drain using a mixture of hot water and mild detergent. Inspect the water inlet valve for signs of damage or corrosion and replace if necessary. Additionally, ensure that the fridge is level to prevent water from pooling.

Frost Build-Up in Freezer:

• Problem: Your freezer is accumulating excessive frost, affecting its efficiency.
• Solution: Frost build-up can occur due to several reasons, including a faulty defrost timer, defective defrost heater, or damaged door seals. Start by manually defrosting the freezer and then check the defrost components for any issues. Replace any faulty parts and ensure that the door seals are intact to prevent warm air from entering the freezer.

Fridge Not Running:

• Problem: Your fridge is not running at all, and the interior remains warm.
• Solution: Begin by checking the power supply and ensuring that the fridge is plugged in properly. Inspect the electrical cord for any damage and replace if necessary. If the fridge still doesn't turn on, it could indicate a problem with the compressor, start relay, or overload protector. Contact a professional technician for further diagnosis and repair.

Ice Maker Malfunctions:

• Problem: Your ice maker is not producing ice or is producing malformed ice cubes.
• Solution: Check the water supply line to ensure it's not kinked or blocked. Clean the ice maker and the ice bin thoroughly to remove any built-up debris or mold. Inspect the water inlet valve and the ice maker assembly for any faults and replace if needed. Additionally, adjust the ice maker settings according to the manufacturer's recommendations for optimal performance.

Conclusion

A malfunctioning fridge can disrupt your daily routine and potentially lead to food spoilage and waste. However, many common fridge problems can be resolved with simple troubleshooting steps. By identifying the issue and implementing the appropriate solution, you can extend the lifespan of your fridge and ensure its efficient operation. Remember, if you encounter any major issues or are unsure about performing repairs, it's always best to seek professional assistance. With a little care and attention, your fridge will continue to serve you well for years to come. Get best fridge repair in Dubai call for more information: +97145864033

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Executive chef here.. but making bread was never really much of a thing at school or at work when I was coming up. Baker's baked.. chefs did the other stuff. Lol
So... As the title indicates, I'm having a bit of an issue with my starter. I'm getting good flavor, but not very good rise. Wondering if I'm doing something wrong or if I've gotten some bad info along the way.
I use a cold ferment method because I really only bake once or twice a week. I use a 100% mix with usually between 50 and 100g of each flower and water. (Added to the base of roughly 100 g each that already exist in the container) I then let it sit out for about 2 hours and then I refrigerate until I need it. Then I take it out, let it sit for 4 to 6 hours to warm back up until it starts bubbling actively. I will mix it occasionally during the week and definitely when I take it out of the fridge. I was told that getting oxygen into the mixture was very helpful.
I was told that if I did it this way, I wouldn't even have to add extra store-bought yeast. But my rise seems very weak. So just to clarify, my starter has no salt or oil in it, and I use dechlorinated water.
Just an example.. when I make my Kaiser rolls, I make roughly a one kilo ball of dough with 200 g of Poolish/starter. I still have to add at least 4 g of store bought yeast or my rise is just way too weak. Should I maybe go up to 350 g of poolish?
As I mentioned, the flavor is spot on, it's just the rise is taking hours. Even with well controlled humidity and temperature, my first rise takes roughly 1.5-2 hours. Second rise after forming can take upwards of 2-4 hours. (At 72-75F)
Any and all help would `be greatly appreciated!

It was late November 2015. I was 51 and one year past my divorce (which was not related to cheating) when I became so disgusted with myself that I knew I had to pick myself up. I was alone for the long holiday, and although I wasn't really sad or lonely, I felt empty. However, I had some extra time to consider how does one picks oneself up.
I made a list of potential New Year resolutions that were individually realistic. Some were really easy and stupid like “have your chipped front tooth fixed” and “take & post a selfie”. These smaller tasks fueled my confidence and provided the energy boosts needed to tackle the more challenging resolutions, like starting a weight loss challenge at work.
Skip ahead to March 4th 2016. I had a Friday lunch date with a married client that I met two weeks prior. Of course, it was not a real date, as I wouldn't impose myself on a married woman, nor would I risk my career or my ego, especially if the signals she seemed to be sending were just a product of my wishful thinking, stimulated by checking off some boxes on the list on the fridge dated 1/1/16.
The following is my thank you note to her for a great date as well as for helping me check a lot of boxes over the past few weeks. I sent her a link to it as it is in the form of my first ever online post (one more check box, YAY!).
************************************** We were only 1 minute in the hotel room; her jeans in a ball on the floor. She sat at the foot of the king sized bed and backed her way into the stack of oversized pillows lining the headboard. I followed as If attached by a leash. I landed somewhat awkwardly on my elbows between her legs finding myself squarely face to face with the tattoo. This tattoo, that she so shamelessly revealed just a week ago, the same tattoo that has been scorching my thoughts and the same tattoo that she promised me complete and unlimited access.
It’s been a long time since I have been here or anywhere near as nice as here, between the legs of a beautiful woman 20 years younger and far out of my league....even when I was her age. I took a second to drink in my fortunate situation. I admired her panties. All day I was so hoping she would wear those same panties as before. She didn’t. These were different but similar enough. The delicate lace and silk perfectly framed the tattoo on her hip. She did not disappoint. There is a fruity jasmine scent, intoxicatingly pleasant, and oh so subtle. It is not here. I’ll need to find its source. I want more of that. (I remember being thoroughly impressed and thinking to myself “This girl is good”.)
I briefly forgot that there was someone else here besides myself and the tattoo. How long have I been down here perving out on her? I wondered. I hesitated, and then apologetically looked up half expecting a well-deserved snarky glare. What I found instead was an ear to ear compassionate smile followed by a tilt of her head and an arch of her eyebrow that said “I like that you like that, carry on”.
With confidence restored that we were still in sync, I adjusted myself so that I was in a good position to thoroughly enjoy what I came to do. I kissed the tattoo hard and gave it a good lick. The challenge for today was “Taste the Tattoo” and I won. I did a small celebration gesture that she rolled her eyes to. I continued to kiss and taste all around until every freckle got some personal attention. As I got to the upper most reaches of her inner thighs, I looked up to check in as I was about to cross a new line. For the first time she was not looking back at me but had laid her head back deep into the pillows, her eyes closed. I took that as a yes!
I marveled at the softness of her inner thighs on my cheeks as I gently placed kisses up one and down the other. As I kissed her through her panties, her hips responded by arching her up in anticipation of each next kiss. Before long, those wonderful panties were just getting in the way. I stopped and pondered whether to just slide them aside or remove them or to risk interrupting the mood and attempt a complete wardrobe removal as we were both still fully dressed except for her jeans.
I didn’t have to ponder long as she knew what she wanted and it was not any of the options I was considering. Still lying back with her head semi submerged within the pillows, she held out her arms as if gesturing for a hug. I moved up her body and when I got close enough she pulled me in for a kiss.
Unbelievably, this was our first kiss. I found it odd that we had not kissed yet and was grateful she thought to stop for a moment to have a kiss. We kissed some and then I settled in to thoroughly enjoy it. However, the kiss to come was not the kiss I was expecting or a kiss I was ready for. It was a kiss that could ruin everything.
Technically, there was one kiss before. It was an awkward kiss 5-10 minutes earlier just after we entered the room. All in about the time it took for the hotel door to close behind us, she tossed her bag on the sofa, had her jewelry off and set on the nightstand while I emptied my pockets and silenced my phone.
We approached each other, and as we met I was looking at the place where the tattoo would be under her shirt and behind her jeans. They were higher cut and could not be pulled down that far to get to the tattoo. They would have to come off. To just reach in and do that would be an uncharacteristically bold move for me. But I did have unquestionable permission to have the tattoo in any way that I desired. I reached down with both hands and took hold of the waistband on each side of the button. I didn’t see her simultaneous move in at me at first. Just as I felt the metal of the button, I felt her reaching her arms around my neck and realized that she was tip toeing up for a kiss. It caught me unexpectedly and I think it showed on my face that it did. I tried to recover and moved back in to accept her lips on to mine but it turned into an awkward peck.
I scolded myself for the selfish moment and just as I was trying to formulate a recovery gesture, she, without missing a beat, gently dismissed my fumble and gracefully restored the momentum. “Oh” she said with surprise in her tone, while looking down at my fingers ready to release her button. Then, in a more playfully quizzical tone, she followed with “I guess you want to get right to THAT then” and she stepped back away from me where I lost grip of her jeans. She replaced my fingers on the button with hers, paused, maybe waiting for me to look up to her eyes, which I finally did, then flashed me a devilishly naughty smile and pulled her jeans down to the top of her boots. She then proudly announced, mostly to herself, “You really are going to let me have fun with you, aren’t you!” seemingly shedding any doubts in her mind that I would go through with this. She then sat at the foot of the all white linen king sized bed, removed her boots and jeans and backed her way into the stack of oversized pillows lining the headboard.
Back to our kiss. The kiss that from now on I will reflect on as our first kiss
Responding to her hug gesture, I moved up her body and when I got close enough she pulled me in for a kiss. I didn’t flub it this time, but again, I didn’t know it was coming, and prolly I should have. It took only ten seconds to adjust and synchronize to each other’s kissing form. It was warm and succulent and sweet and was wonderful. I really was surprised at how nice this felt. I don’t recall married kissing being this enjoyable. I remember saying to myself “Damn, this girl can kiss”.
I was on top, in a position that wasn’t going to be comfortable for as long as I wanted this to last, so I backed away to reposition but she held tight indicating she didn’t want me to move. I gestured at the space next to her and she relented. We then settled in facing one another side by side; her smile confirming that this was a nice place. We were hugging and kissing, pulling each other closer and looking into each other’s eyes. Our legs intertwined and our hands were roaming, but not really in a sexual way, more like trying to make as much body contact as possible. I couldn’t get over how I felt so much more familiarity than there was. What I did not recognize at the time was that this was the physical intimacy catching up to match the virtual intimacy we have been sharing online.
Soon the intensity escalated and it was getting very hot very quickly. The intensity and passion that was building was not something I ever expected or planned for. This was the rare kind of making out where accidental hickeys happen and inadvertent “Oh god I love you’s” slip out. Not that either of those was going to happen but my safe, non-committal no emotional strings encounter was getting too hot to not risk introducing emotions into the situation. And that could happen.
At some point I was no longer kissing her lips and mouth but was kissing her.
I broke contact to catch a breath and maybe get some control of the fire. We stopped for a moment to breathe and cool off. She slid herself on top and I rolled over on to my back to accommodate her. She looked at me with eyes that appeared to agree that it was a good time to slow it down. She closed her eyes and she seemed to enjoy that I was rubbing her back with both hands that I slipped up under her shirt. She presented her lips for me to kiss and then her cheek for the same, then neck and ear and lips again. Her long hair had fallen down around us, surrounding our faces like a vail creating a tiny private and even more intimate space. Inside here it was darker and the temperature and humidity rose quickly. We were breathing each other’s breath between kisses. All of a sudden I noticed that Jasmine was back. Not subtle this time, but deep and fulfilling. I loved it.
This fragrance stuff really works. The next morning just after waking up, I caught an unexpected subtle whiff on my skin under my watch and my heart jumped by 20 beats. Who’d a thunk it possible?
The passion was building again but since I was aware and cautious now, I wanted to enjoy and go with it. I thought I could keep it measured and I did for a while as it does take two. The kissing slowed to half and so did the passion. However, the rest of our bodies started to make up for it and the touching evolved into the sexual. She was still on top of me and my hands were exploring and squeezing on her panty covered butt, then under and in those panties. Her body contact became more targeted as she was now very deliberately mashing her fun stuff all over my fun stuff. The kissing subsided but replaced with the audible accompaniment of her squeaks, moans and quicker breathing timed with her mashing I was no longer in control. The passion was under control but being replaced with something intimately erotic.
I abruptly escaped by gently rolling her over on to her back then getting up and knelling between her legs. I took a moment to catch my breath and wanted to say “That is getting WAY too intimate. Can we get naked and have sex now?” However, I tugged at her panties and said something dorky like “can we take these off now?” Yes, we were still both fully dressed except for her jeans
Since I am the kind of guy who doesn’t kiss and tell, (well, only tells about the kisses) and this is not the forum for it, I am not going to talk about the sexy part over the next 30 minutes. I will tell you that we did finally each get ourselves unceremoniously naked and then the sexy part finishes where it started, with me finishing all over that beautiful tattoo. Of course I did a small celebration gesture that she rolled her eyes to.
*************************************************
Cuddle time. Our snapchats leading up to this encounter were heavy on the anticipation and buildup but didn’t contain a lot of detail about or define what stuff would happen during our “fun” time together.
Me: “Ok then, tomorrow lunchtime, I’m in.”
Her: “OMG Are you saying that you are REALLY going to come here and let me have fun with you?
Me: “I’m REALLY going to come there. I am REALLY going to fully inspect that tattoo, as well as the neighborhood where the tattoo lives.
Her: “I so can’t wait to get my hands on you.”
Me: “WOW….Now that this is real and going to happen, my heart is beating so hard that I am afraid that people can see it through my shirt.”
Her: “You have to tell me, are you being SERIOUS right now? You can’t say this and not show up. It’s OK if you are teasing, but you have to say so that you are now….not tomorrow!!!”
Me: “I am SERIOUS and I PROMISE I will be there. You have gotten to me, BAD. All week with the way we have been talking..err..I mean snapchatting; I can’t get you out of my head. Then today with those tattoo snaps you sent; I can’t get up from my desk. LOL…..NOT kidding NOT teasing.”
Her: “I am BAD, and I like having FUN. I am going to have so much fun with you!!!”
************************************************
The only specific things I recall us acknowledging we would do with our “fun” was tattoo inspection and cuddle time. So as soon as cleanup from sexy time was done we both knew what time it was. For me, as good as the inspection was the cuddle was better. Just as during the sexy time we changed things up and we got to cuddle many ways. We started face to face full contact hugging just like our kissing time with some but less kissing and more being in the moment.
We were still hot (temperature hot now) and sweaty so that didn’t last long. She turned over and we spooned some. I was still craving full body contact but it was still so hot that we had to separate a bit. No contact spooning if you will, with just my one hand caressing her exposed shoulder and arm and hip with an occasional butt cheek squeeze.
It was about that time that we had our first ever personal conversation. On the project there were lots of flirty banter and some personal stories but almost always as part of a group. We had many phone calls and a few project meetings with just us two but never did the conversation get personal. Until now the only personal talks (Chats) we have had have been via Snapchat. I don’t recall who asked the first question of the other, but it was like a dam broke and we started filling in the details of our lives, our feelings and all the things we chatted about.
There was a lot to tell and we were giddy like children (child) best friends re-meeting on the first day of school catching each other up on our summer vacations. At one point she had something compelling to say and faster than a fish out of water she flipped back to facing me so she could gesture with her hand and punctuate through her expression. She landed close. Closer that I think she meant to at first and just a bit awkward I felt. But I was wrong. She didn’t back up an inch. I really couldn’t see her hand but I could feel that she was using it in the 2 to 4 inches of space between our chests. Her face was right into mine. She would lean back or up just an inch when she wanted me to see her eyes or smile or frown for emphasis, then settle back into the pillows with our foreheads or noses or cheeks touching. It was the farthest thing in the world from awkward.
If there was a recurring theme for the day it would be HOT; in every sense and synonym of the word. Again, it was getting too sweaty to remain that close. This time she broke contact to catch a breath and escape the heat. We stopped talking for a moment to breathe and cool off. She sat up, crawled to, and grabbed the (sexy time) clean-up towel that was at the far foot of the bed. She turned around so that she was kneeling facing me as she brought the towel up to her chest to absorb the beads and drips of sweat that had accumulated. As I watched, I again thought of my great fortune to be right here right now feeing what I feel and seeing the beauty before me. She pushed the towel down across her belly button and it fell into her lap.
I observed the soft sunlight reflecting off the white sheets, the white towel, and the white pillows bathed her in perfect light creating just a hint of subtle shadows in all of the right places on her angelic white skin. I started consciously taking photos with my mind. I wanted to capture every nuance and note every detail. I don’t know if I will ever be here again.
I don't recall if my next realization was comprehended in a split second, or if it took ten seconds to develop, but a terrible fear washed over me that for the first time in forever, she was beyond my touch and her next action might be to look for her panties or go jump in the shower. We were after all, deep into the second hour of her hour long lunch.
As I was preparing myself for the pain soon to come, I couldn't understand where it was coming from. I had the BEST DAY EVER, but I felt like an exhausted child who just watched the Disney fireworks finally and knows what that means.
What the hell? What is happening in my head? I don't even know this girl, let alone have feelings for her beyond she made my dick feel good at lunchtime.....and, I guess my ego is healthier since I met her. I have not cheated on my diet since she turned on the flattery the week before. I was sure it had to be somehow manipulative, but I hoped that if only a 5% chance it wasn't AND she liked me AND her mom was single, made it easy to keep my snacking to peas & carrots.
My self esteem has been skyrocketing too, as I have been checking a lot of boxes on my refrigerator. LOL, so many in fact, that I have been adding things to the list after they happened that I didn't dare put on it as they seemed pretty unobtainable just two months before. "Get sent a nude selfie, check. Have the confidence to send one back, check. Take a hottie 32 year old client out to lunch and fuck her brains out, check.
Did I just discover that I like girls who make my self esteem feel good more than I like girls who make my dick feel good?
Shit, that wasn't even on my top ten list. Smart, funny, pretty, Kind, whatever is the opposite of bitchy, fun in bed, boobs and/or an age appropriate figure is always nice, curious, someone you can trust to see you at your worst. Before today, "genuinely being a boost & support of my self esteem" was 10th.
Then BAM. I was hit in the face with the towel. Damn girl, I hope you can handle a spanking because I was just on the verge of making an interpersonal discovery of some importance over here, I thought to myself. I noticed the slightest or possibly mock look of concern on her face as she asks "you're not having any regrets or second thoughts over there are you?". I reflexively replied "Oh god no". Then with some emphasys, I continued "today was incredible. I REALLY needed this and you were PERFECT, thank you".
Again she did not disappoint. She crawled to the top of the bed on the far side and then to me over the pillows and laid down at a 90 angle to me on her stomach parallel to the headboard with her head nearly right on top of mine. She propped herself up a bit on her elbows and we kissed deeply. It was nice.
I made a few attempts to shake my internal drama, get out of my head and get back to my goal of picking my self up after my divorce. Oops, I mean back to pleasing a beautiful woman who clearly was not yet done having her fun with me. The emotional rollercoaster ride over the last hours, days & weeks completely blew out my brains ability to generate or absorb endorphins or whatever happens in a situation like this. Shortly after we had joked around while showering together, kissing goodbye (just like when I kissed my endorphin killing ex wife) and going on back to our separate lives.
I drove the hour or so home, brought my dog to the park and had healthiest and happiest cry I ever had. I don't know what I was feeling or why, but I was feeling again and it brought me much relief and contentedness.
We texted a bit that evening confirming that we each enjoyed our time together and agreeing that we should do that again sometime. The next day, Saturday, her husband took their 5 & 8 year old sons somewhere for the day. We checked in with each other again over text and chatted some about our lunch but the spark or excitement we usually had was not the same.
I reached out again that evening and asked if she was in a place that we could talk on the phone. She resisted but did call me (our first personal phone call). It took her 24 hours to let her cry bubble up. It turns out that our emotional experiences were remarkably similar, albeit from different perspectives.
She much later reveals that she felt emotionally dead for her hubby. She evolved to a bad place where she wanted fuck anyone but her hubby but still fucked him twice a week and had to appear happy to do it, killing her brain chemistry.
We rode the best and worst roller coaster in the world for 6 or 8 months....until the the Cocaine eventually wore off or the unobtainable became obtainable and it wasn't the the same rush for either of us any longer. She was the closest thing to a drug addiction that I ever felt. I never wanted anyone or anything like I wanted her.
My hope is that this story helps one person answer the question "Why the hell would he/she risk giving up their wonderful & loving family for an hour with a douchebag or a skank?"

Edit 5/15: After reading everyone's it crazy to see how much has happened.

• 18 Wheelers
  • broken piece of brake drum from a semi
    • 3’ long, full width piece of semi tread to windshield
    • tire blew up from a 18 wheeler x2
  • Giant piece of plastic sewer pipe rolled off an 18 wheeler
• Animals
  • Dog leashed in the back of truck jumps out and hanging by the leash while driver keeps driving x2
  • Speeding truck came to stop causing pug running onto truck's toolbox to fly onto in coming traffic
  • gigantic turtle
  • cow
  • dear
    • flattened dear carcass
  • little kitten on highway rush hour chased after and got kitten
    • another help get on out a wheel well in rush hour summer.
  • Peacock
  • group of wild pigs (20-30)
  • Dead horse
  • large dog in a pink tutu.
• Bicycle
  • cyclist going against traffic x2
    • in the middle of the road.
• Construction/Farm/Road Signs/Misc Equipment
  • giant traffic cones
  • tumbling cinder block
  • Jobox chest
  • tumbleweed/bale of hay x2
  • gravel truck 18 wheeler took out the overhead signs on the highway
  • 2'x2' pieces of Styrofoam
  • giant pile of plastic wrap, wood and trash an entire lane wide
  • red construction netting in the middle of the road
  • bucket flying out
  • pallets
  • Circular Band Saw Blade
  • Stop sign
  • Mangled Rebar
  • unsecured riding mower spun off across the highway, down the embankment and onto the access road
  • lumber
    • nails-up wood plank
  • shopping cart
  • HVAC ventilation tubes full of insulation
  • Wooden saw horse exploded put a dent in my front bumper
• Drunk Drivers x2
• Guns
  • bullets
  • gang/individuals that flash their guns x2
• Furniture/Household Items/Equipment
  • roof peeled off the mobile home being and landed across car
  • Ladder x9
  • Refrigerator x3
  • living room: sofa/couch x7, coffee table and arm chair
  • patio furniture fly out of a trailer
  • hit boxspring, sending pieces of wood (2x4 about 2' long)
  • recliner
    • Porsche hit a lazy boy recliner
  • wheelbarrow x2
  • mattresses x6
  • kitchen sink
  • stuffed animal only to immediately run over a full sized car seat
  • black stove in the middle of road in the dark
  • charcoal BBQ grill
  • medicine cabinet
  • dog house fly out the back of truck
  • suitcase
  • dishwasher
  • pallet full of water bottle cases sitting in the center lane
• Humans
  • Elderly guy armed with a rifle and bow and arrow aiming at people
  • woman that was pushed into the street
  • Traffic fatality
  • dead person run over x2
  • person assaulted, killed, and dumped on road
  • person was having mental issues and was walking/prancing between cars
  • drunk/homeless/skateboardechildren/adults making dangerous walks across the road x9
    • dude running barefoot and shirtless going north on 35 at like 10pm
  • person facedown lying in the middle of the street
  • lady holding a candle while driving at like 1:00 in the morning.
  • suicidal people (trying to jump)
  • children sitting at back of truck
  • saw a woman on the side of the highway jumping and it seemed like screaming for help
  • distressed woman running across Hwy 90. Saw the huge knife she had and sped off. police called.
  • Santa waving a beer.
  • man jerking off on the shoulder
  • lady pushing a stroller in the direction of traffic on the actual lane.
• Plane
  • single engine airplane in the middle of the road
• Sport Equipment
  • basketball pole, backboard, hoop and base
  • soccer goal
• Trailer
  • trucks flat bed trailer that got disconnected
• Vehicle/Parts
  • random tires/wheel that flew off someone’s car x9
    • rim
  • large car pieces like a fender
  • parts of a car
  • bumper
  • two abandoned cars, no lights on, in the middle of the road
  • windshield popped out and went airborne
  • big truck ran over a piece of long metal and piece of metal flew up and broke part of windshield
• Vehicles
  • aggressive driver chasing/suicidal drivers who have road rage x5
    • and throwing coins at vehicle
    • and turn LED lightbar to max brightness and blinded
    • threatening/recording x2
    • brake checking x2
    • Trying to cut off, hit wall, car erupted into flames
  • person on something and swerving back and forth then smashed into car.
  • driving with vehicle with flames coming from under the hood
  • Bright lights
  • Almost T boned someone aggressively turning left
  • wrong way driver x10
  • motorcycle guys on sport bikes doing tricks and stunts,
  • multiple people coming to a full stop for various unknown and likely stupid reasons
    • full stop to turn left while in the leftmost forward travel lane. The turn lane was empty right next to him
  • vehicle running other car off the access/highway x4
    • and throwing trash at car
    • turning bright lights on
  • Jeep tried to beat the van to turn left, over corrected, left wheel hopped onto the hood and windshield of a Mercedes waiting to exit
• Weather
  • black ice
  • hydroplaning / water on road due to poor drainage
  • rain zero visibility