1 night in paris online

TLDR: I didn't know what I didn't know, and wasted money on gear I should never have bought'; 1 10' hammock and a terribly shaped underquilt.
I was going to go hammock camping last year in a cheap 9' hammock I had gotten for $10 years before and never used, but decided to try it in my backyard before I went out. It was super uncomfortable, cold, and I got eaten alive by mosquitos.
Digging around online (and probably on this subreddit) told me I needed a longer hammock, an underquilt, and a bugnet. I ended up buying the Pathfinder Jungle Hammock with built-in bugnet and a OneTigris underquilt.
The underquilt was awful from the beginning. It tapers heavily toward the ends and has a split to keep it centered on the hammock, more or less forcing you to sleep centered in the hammock rather than at an angle. Even trying to fight the rigging, it was never comfortable to use and was a complete waste of $45.
I thought the hammock was fine, and I slept significantly better in it than I ever have in a tent, so I considered hammock camping a huge success. After learning the wonder of sleeping in a hammock, I bought a Brazillian-style cotton hammock to hang in my bedroom and have slept in that a night or two a week for months (it would be full time, but my wife likes sharing a bed).
So tonight, when I got some new hammock straps to try out, I hung that camping hammock up and it was terrible. At first I thought it was the hang, and I kept trying to adjust it, but I just felt squished. Then I thought to check and the hammock is only a 10' hammock. Heck, even the 11' one I use in my bedroom is a little too short for me and I honestly wish I had bought a longer one for my room (I'm just over 6' tall).
So now, of the $100 or so that I spent on a hammock camping setup, it was basically all a waste.

 I am a female, Cheyann (28) who's been with my boyfriend, Coty (29) for 5 years. 3 years ago we had a daughter. For her first 8 months of life i was independent living for n supporting for our daughter and myself all on my own in Connecticut. Rent, food. Cloths necessities all while he was in jail. He got out of jail and got us an apartment back at home in Pennsylvania. I was to eager to move back home n start this new life with him and our daughter. The savings i accumulated while working in CT had drained away and I came to him about myself getting a job. He pretty much demanded for me to stay at home and raise our daughter and he would work and make the money and his money would be our money. Fast forward 2 and a half years and he's saved up all this money build a career build credit friendships and his own life( he works nights 3pm to 530am) all while i have sacrificed soo much to stay at home stay loyal to him and our daughter. I keep a clean...very clean house. I cook n feed them pick out their cloths everyday and raise and teach my daughter without any village or support from grandparents. She literally has been babysate 1 time this whole year. She is very very happy and he seems to be very happy himself considering I let him do whatever he wants sextually to me. I've giving up so many opportunities and sacrificed so much and that's exactly what I signed up for except his money always just seems to be just his . He spends so much money on tools and himself. He baught a new car and a bike yet I can't even ask him for 5 dollars without being put down. I stoped asking for money a while ago due to all the things he would say that felt like he was putting me down. He makes me feel so ashamed to ask for anything. Here he seems to be lilving his best life buying whatever he wants yet putting me down if I dare ask for new cloths from thrift stores( considering its been 3 years since giving birth ive gotten older n im not a size 2 anymore as he keeps reminding me) Anytime I tell him we agreed I'd stay at home n take care of everything to do with the house n our child and he would include me in finances he tells me I should just be grateful. I know I should be grateful for him providing but being treated as if being a SAHM and a homemaker is just lazy work kills me. He acts as if I don't do a damn thing. (Which coming from a man who cant even pick out his own socks in the morning says a lot) I try n show him my gratitude and in return I'm treated as If he's better off without my services. I feel like I've sacrificed so many opportunities to make my own money because we agreed I'd stay at home while he made the money n he would share the money with me. Yes he pays for everything rent n bills but he lives here and eats here too and also still has so much left over and refuses to buy anything for me, cloths that fit, or new glasses for my eye sight, and gives me a hard time about buying anything for our daughter aswell.yet at the same time he seems to have whatever money is needed to buy himself things. I can barely even ask him for gas money to go to the library yet he's got about 10,000 saved has a credit score of 700 and has gained a career. I feel as though he wouldn't have been able to do that if I didn't stay home to watch out child n support him n keep his leaving space cleaned n homey like he begged me to do. I feel as though everything I've done because he asked me too was all for him to gain control n for him to use against me n tell me I couldn't make it without him....I know this is all very one sided but AITAH? 

We opened an online store, me, my boyfriend, his mother and her boss (who provides goods for the online store, he has a physical store). There were supposed to be 4 people in the business, in fact, my mother-in-law now says that I should do everything myself, my boyfriend helps, but he has to do his job, because his business is not doing well because of the market crisis. We opened without being prepared at all, without a base, even without boxes, although we talked about it and it was a must (my boyfriend and I said it was fucking elementary logic), my mother-in-law has been in business for many years and did so fucking many mistakes, so I was like a fool taking everything into account manually, but she doesn't listen to us at all. I would like to add that I have never worked before, I have no experience, I am not hardworking, I cannot sit for 8 hours, although I try very hard and in fact I work 12 to 20 hours a day, but I have a feeling of the work algorithm, that everything must be clear, because otherwise I do not understand how and what to do. For the sake of completeness, I should also add that we don't even have purchase prices to calculate profit. We are not given the base of the owner of the physical store, because we are kinda nothing for that store (although the owner is very happy to take a percentage of the profit for himself, but we are not allowed to). So I have to wait for several days to be told the price of a product while my mother-in-law is away in another country. At the same time, they both need the exact numbers of profit and goods immediately. Also, because of this, there are situations when the goods were sold at the old (lowered) price, that is, not even at 0, but in the minus (who's to blame again?)) So now I have to do everything myself, my boyfriend defends me and says he wants to help. Also, my boyfriend and I are to blame for the fact that the store has not yet brought each of us 1k dollars in 2 months of work. I should add that we were given goods that are available even at the local stores. But people don't go to online stores like physical stores every day. And no one gives money for advertising. I have to run an Instagram with 1 subscriber (my mom), it's just a cringe. You can't sleep, there are no days off. The manager threatens to come and take the goods anyway (... he'd better take them). The shit is that it's physically impossible to leave it all, to move out of the house (where his mother comes every 2 months, she rented it through the garage as a place to keep goods at, and we just live in a cunt in a forgotten village without a car and at her expense), because the boyfriend's job market is a mess, he can't afford to take us both. For 2 months we both earned less than the minimum wage and every day we are getting blamed for selling poorly (have I call as a call center and say "buy our mustard that is available in your local supermarket only for 5 dollars more???"). A little further, my bf was still studying, we went to another city for 4 days for an exam before graduation, while his mom was in the country and could keep the store (spoiler alert, she did nothing). We came back, spent a couple of days, and now we're leaving again, because he has a master's degree. Why did I go with him? Because I'm his only fucking support, I love him and I'll fucking destroy everything for him, I help him, without me he would have already been at war (his words). So now it's my fault that I had to stay and do everything in the store... even though his mom and the boss said to go, everything is fine (when we don't have the goods, but they are in the physical store, they send them from there, just like when we are away for a couple of days, and everything was fine and now suddenly it's not fine). Should I have left my boyfriend all alone with the brain fucked up? It's about our relationship, I would have gone with him anyway, I don't want to be like his mom and get a divorce with her husband at 50. I'm really grateful to her for what she does for us and supports us financially, for paying for our trips to another city (well, actually, because of her and those expenses, because my boyfriend doesn't need to study, but his mom is fucking his mind, so he can't do his job, and because of that she tells him that he doesn't get money because he takes on too much (yes, she contradicts herself all the time) I feel like I have schizophrenia, I don't know what to do, how to protect my and my boyfriend's mental health?Before all this, we were living perfectly together in an apartment, without a store. Every day we are told something different, and when my mother-in-law comes, we are also the loaders for the physical fucking store (what the fuck?)

Life is 1.boring 2. Being a Palestinian is just the worst. You're always a target 3. I have so many mental health issues that I'd people in my community find out they'll start shaming me for it 4. Life is expensive 5. I have to take care of my 3 sisters myself and my mom since my dad decided to be a narcissistic son of a bitch and my mom Divorced him wich I'm OK with since I don't love him anyway and he's such a bad person that shouldn't be alive 6.i feel left out in this world. I don't think I belong anywhere I don't think anyone likes me or even cares about me being alive If I disappeared, no one would notice, I'm sure 7. I went to this dating bot or made friends bot to find someone who would actually care for me even though I'm sure it would not help and I was right 8.im now telling a part of my thousands of feelings and thoughts to a stranger that I know deep inside my dissaperance will not move a single inch in her life 9. I'm just sick of this I just wanna end it all but I can't because I can't leave my responsibilities and run away like a fucking coward 10. There is more but I don't want to spend the night crying and listening to sad music while I know my family is sleeping and the don't care If I'm depressed or not and they'll just say I'm fucking dramatic

The stress of the last six months has nearly killed me. Besides the general cratering of the outside world—political strife, climate change, inflated rents, corporate greed, and the baffling resurgence of crew socks—my internal life was falling apart, too. I'm at the point where I can't see a way out of the darkness, and that feeling has only grown in the last few days.
My struggles ramped up exponentially in the last two weeks. It started when my long-term girlfriend and I called it quits after five years. There was no definitive relationship-altering fight or infidelity. It was simply the boring banality of the "roommate-ification" of our lives together. We both felt the shift but never talked about it. Turns out communication is important.
Truthfully, we'd stayed together for so long because we couldn't afford to live apart. Our rent had nearly doubled the last time we re-upped our lease but even that was a bargain compared to what was out there currently. We were trapped by our need to have a roof over our heads.
My job had stagnated, and I couldn't find anything better. I was stuck. Like me, she'd been job hunting as well. Unlike me, she had a master's, and her prospects should've been higher. They weren't. For five months, she applied to hundreds of jobs and couldn't break through. If she got a rejection email, it was a win. Most of the time, the companies never responded.
Finally, she found a great opportunity at a Fortune 500 company. It was an involved process. She nailed the five interviews, and her "test project" was well received. She was offered the position, and it came with a massive pay increase—double her current salary. I was proud of her—she needed a win. We celebrated with pizza and beer that night.
Two days later, she dropped the bomb that she was breaking things off. The relationship ending wasn't a surprise. The timing was. The discussion was brief, and there was zero chance of reconciliation. She declined when I asked if she could stay until the lease ended. Mentally, it would've been too much for her. Two days after that, she moved out, taking half the rent with her. I was stuck in a lease I couldn't afford on my salary for the next six months.
My free time evaporated as I took on two extra gigs to help make ends meet. In addition to my office nine to five, I drove for a delivery app on the weekends and took a part-time night job stocking shelves at a local grocery store. When I wasn't hustling for housing, I slept or ate. I did nothing beyond that. Nothing brings me joy. There is no spark.
This drudgery has become my daily routine, and it's killing me.
To help cover some cost gaps, I've started selling off some of my stuff online. It was just me here, and I decided that the Spartan lifestyle would have to work for now. Anything I could fetch a decent amount for went up for sale. My apartment is so empty now every noise causes an echo.
Before my shift at the grocery store, I agreed to meet someone who wanted to take a look at my kitchen table. It was a lovely table – my ex had obsessed over it – but I didn't see a need at the moment. Now that I was a bachelor, my TV trays became my default kitchen tables anyway. I wasn't planning on any dinner parties in the future anyway.
A couple showed up later than they said they would. It was a bored-looking guy and a fastidious young woman. She made friendly small talk as she looked over the table. Her boyfriend (I think) stayed quiet and played bodyguard. I gave him a friendly nod at one point, and he just looked away. She said they'd take it without trying to talk me down. I took the small win.
She asked if I could help carry it down to their truck. I was running late, but feeling helpful, even for a fleeting few seconds, was worth it. Her silent boyfriend and I hauled the table through the hallway and even managed to avoid hitting the walls the entire way down.
I placed it in their truck, got my money, and turned to leave. The girl said thanks, and the boyfriend finally returned the nod. I gave a weird half-wave to them both and started to walk away when I heard the passenger window being rolled down.
"Hey man," the boyfriend said, his voice higher pitched than I thought it would. "What was up with your brother giving us the evil eye in the lobby when we got here?"
I turned around, "Huh? I don't have a brother."
"A cousin then?"
"My family lives about a thousand miles away. What happened in the lobby?"
"A dude that looked just like you was hiding in a dark hallway in the lobby and staring at my girl's ass."
"Jacob, really," she said.
"I'm sorry that happened, but I had nothing to do with it. We do have the occasional homeless guy meander in. Maybe you saw one of them," I said. "Did he say or do anything bad?"
"Jacob, I asked you to not say something," the girl said, burying her head in her hands.
Jacob's frosty attitude to me made sense now. "He said something about running up that ass. I dunno, he was mumbling. I told him I'd beat his ass if he didn't stop staring. Seemed to shut him up."
"Oh. Well, congrats," I said. "I'll tell the manager. Thanks for letting me know."
"You should do a better job keeping jokers like that out of the building."
"Jacob, he's not a security guard."
"He should still be a man and protect his home."
"Have a good night," I said, ending the conversation and heading back up to my apartment. I had about five minutes to change and head out before I'd be late. Last thing my ego needed was to be fired from my backup job.
Thankfully, I was able to slip into work and not get spotted by my boss. That was the last of the good news, though. We had a massive weekly order come in, which meant I'd be there late, plus someone had called out. Worse, our hand truck had a flat tire, and I spent the next few hours torturing my muscles, schlepping heavy boxes around the store. I soldiered on, counting down the minutes until I left and fantasizing about going to bed for the night.
If wishing for sleep wasn't a sad statement to my mental well-being, nothing was.
I came home after my shift at the grocery store and plopped down on the couch. I had contemplated selling it, but it was an older Ikea number, and I didn't think the value would replace my desire to sit. I could feel my body sink into the cushions, and the day's tension seep out. I was beat and tired to the point that turning on the TV was a chore.
I picked up my phone and thought I'd doomscroll until sleep overtook me. I didn't expect it to be a long scroll, as even the methadone that is my phone has failed me lately. As I lowered myself from a slumped position to a supine one, I heard footsteps outside my apartment door. This was not unusual, but the noise I heard sounded like kid footsteps. That was unusual, as nobody on our floor had kids, and it was almost midnight.
Despite my body screaming at me to not move, my brain suggested I check it out. I rolled myself off the couch and eventually stood up. I listened again and heard the kid running down the hallway. I walked over to my door and looked out the peephole. I didn't see anyone.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," I said to myself. "Maybe I'm not staring out a peephole, expecting to see a kid running down the hall at midnight, but instead, I'm cuddled up in my bed, snoozing." I pinched my arm and felt the pain. I was definitely in the waking world.
I turned to head back to the couch when I heard the running again, this time louder. I opened my door and peeked out into the hallway. Nobody was there. The door from the apartment across me opened up, too. Gloria, a young at heart grandma who was friendly/constantly buzzed in a wine mom kind of way, gave me a once over.
"You heard that, too?" she asked.
"Kids?"
"No rugrats around. I assumed it was some drunk assholes stumbling home from the bar."
I laughed. Gloria was, as always, blunt. "I didn't see any assholes," I said.
"Then you're not watching the right kind of internet videos," she said with a wink and a hoarse cackle.
I blushed. How do you respond to that? I just kind of nodded in agreement and shrugged.
"Gotta get your jollies while you can," she said before adding, "You need some rest, dear. You look like hammered shit." She shut her door and went back inside.
She was right. I felt like hammered shit. Since I wasn't going to solve the case of the mysterious runner and was sure it wasn't some lost kid, I decided to call it a night. I went back inside, shut down the apartment, and crawled into bed.
I thought about watching one of the "right kind of internet videos" but fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
***
"Your problem is you think the world owes you something."
John, my elderly coworker at the grocery store, was standing by while I unloaded a pallet of cereal. I liked John, and when I first started, we instantly clicked. He's quick with a joke and fun to talk to. He's also about thirty years older than me and speaks with the Boomer combination of accumulated wisdom, backhanded compliments, and fringe conspiracy nonsense. Still, regardless of how couched the kindness is in gobbledygook, he's usually coming from a good place.
"What?" I said, putting a box of Captain Crunch on the shelf.
"You're complaining about your situation, right? Saying it ain't fair. The world took a paddle to your hind quarters? Hey brother, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Gotta just pick yourself up and start over. You're smart enough – figured this job out right quick – you can do it."
The job was wheeling pallets around the store and stocking shelves. It wasn't much to figure out, but I understood his meaning. The other stuff wasn't necessary, though. "I'm just in a funk. I don't see a way forward."
"Hey, so you've bottomed out. No shame in that. Happens to us all. Silver lining, you can only go up," he said before adding, "Unless some other bad shit happens to you like your car dies or your apartment building burns down. But after that, it's only up."
"The apartment building burning down would be a blessing," I said, hoisting another little Captain on the shelf. "The rent is killing me."
"Have you tried negotiating a lower rent? They used to do that when I was your age."
"I think they'd evict me if I even asked."
"Hell, then you'd have at least thirty days, maybe forty, before they'd kick you out. Plenty of time to turn things around."
"Uh-huh," I said, "Any chance you could give me a hand here?"
"My back is screaming like a pretty young thing after prom," he said, holding his back for emphasis.
I didn't push. "Hey, I meant to tell you about some weird shit that happened the other night."
"Lay it on me. I love the strange."
"So, after my shift the other day, I got home around midnight and was flopped on the couch. I heard someone running down the hallway outside my apartment. I wasn't the only one. A few other neighbors heard it, too. When we checked, though, nobody was there."
"That ain't strange," John said, waving his hand, "that's a man who's plowing another man's wife running for his life."
I laughed. "That's not the weird part. So, for the next two nights, it's the same thing. Around midnight, someone runs down the hallway. Only this time, they're trying the door handles as they pass. So, I asked the front desk to check the security cameras, and they do."
"They see a man running away holding his clothes?"
"There wasn't anyone running down the hall," I said, "But the weird thing was, you could see the door handles turning on the video."
"Damn, that's a good one," John said, "You sure it wasn't just a camera glitch. These new ones from overseas aren't as reliable as they want you to think. Chinese probably using them to spy on you, too."
He continued as my brain tried to reconcile John's two opposing comments. "Weird shit happens at night, man. Before working here, I only worked the day shift. Even when they offered me more money to work nights, I turned it down. Even when they promised me a promotion, I turned them down."
In a previous life, John had worked as a paramedic. He came by it after serving in a medical unit in the army. He'd told me he loved the rush of the job, but after a while, the death and hurt in people's eyes got to be too much to handle. But he worked there for almost twenty years. So, the man had a tolerance for shenanigans and odd occurrences.
"Why'd you agree to work nights here?"
"Shit, we're home before the witching hour. This is like late afternoons, at best. But if it was overnights, hell no. Captain Crunch can anchor his own ship to the shelves. I'd take my ass to 7-11 for a day shift before agreeing to work an overnight."
"Something happen to you during the army?”
“I got the clap,” he offered.
I sighed. “What turned you off nights?"
"Oh. I heard enough stories from coworkers to know I didn't want to experience any of that hoo-doo shit," he said, "trying to save someone's life is hard enough without adding in demon kids and ghosts."
"Did your coworkers see demon kids?" I asked, moving on from the good Captain to the Trix rabbit.
He nodded, "They saw too much. I find it odd, even with all the surveillance we have now and all the science we know about these days, that the night still scares us. You ever know someone who worked a night shift?"
I had. My ex. During college, she worked the overnight desk at a hotel for a while. She quit because the job gave her bad vibes. I told John as much.
He pointed and laughed, "See! Don't you find it odd that every person who works at night always has a story of something eerie happening to them? Every person, buster. That's what they call an irrefutable fact."
"Maybe the ghost running down the hallway is an old employee still doing his rounds."
"In that case, keep that door double locked. I'd even wedge a towel under the door just in case."
"Maybe they're friendly? Casper-like in that way."
"You ever heard someone tell you about a friendly ghost outside the funny papers?"
"I'm sure it happens," I said, "The scary ghosts are more popular though."
“We think we know everything there is to know but we are just babes in the woods when it comes to night things.” John shook his head. "Imma tell you one or three things that happened to a guy I worked with back when I first got hired on to chase after corpses in the ambo. Guy's name was Gil. Quiet man, kept to himself. Didn't rock the boat or demand a bigger paddle. Just rowed with us. Good cat to learn under," John said, finally handing me a cereal box.
I took it, and he kept going, "Now, Gil, ya see, he had a little wifey that would pester him about working days. She was a cop and worked evenings at that time, so they never saw each other. When married people can't align their genitals every now and then, it spells doom."
"A little too much information but sure," I said, shelving another box of Trix.
"Probably part of what happened with you and yours," he said. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear it.
John kept on, "Gil finally got approved to move to nights. Little pay boost and a happy, 'fulfilled' wife should've made that man happy. But it didn't. I saw him a few months later, and he had changed. He might've been quiet when he was working with me, but he'd talk to you if you engaged. When I saw him that time, though, oh boy. He looked sick."
"Wasn't a fan of working nights?"
"Wasn't a fan of living anymore is the feeling I got," John said, "After some prodding, he got to talking with me some. Told me he missed days because the nights were messing with him. I thought it had to do with the schedule change, but that wasn't the case. He said he saw things in the dark he couldn't explain. Things that would turn James Brown into James White, ya dig?"
"I...dig," I said.
"Told me they got a call to an abandoned apartment building one night, around three in the morning. Wasn't unusual. Old buildings in the city are where hop-heads congregate and share drugs. Sometimes, the drugs are too much. Sometimes, they find a person passed out or, worse, dead. When you work in the ambo, you aren't scared of death like a civilian. You've been around it. Probably seen a few folks take their last breaths. It doesn't bother you the way Mother Nature intended it should."
He handed me another box, continuing his assist streak, and kept going, "Ambo pulled up, Gil stepped out and looked for someone to talk to. Nobody there, though. Not uncommon. Some people want to help but not be involved. There's not a soul around. He calls out, but nothing comes back. Tells me he turns to get back in the ambulance when he hears a scream from inside the run-down building. They're calling for help. He's gotta go in the abandoned building in the dark."
"No thanks," I said.
"But it don't bother a medic like that. Gil's done a million of these calls. No big deal. He runs into that building but doesn't come back out until twenty minutes later. Just goes missing. After five, the crew heads in to back him up but can't find him. Gil tells me his crew called the cops. It was like he had vanished."
"What happened?"
"I asked him and he got real quiet. Said he fell into some place that looked like here but wasn't here. Said he felt their eyes on him. Judging him. Told me they followed him home and wouldn't leave him be."
"Who?"
John shrugged, "He didn't say. Shut down after that and left. Just walked past me like I was shit on the sidewalk. He quit about a week later. Heard he had a stroke a year later and was a tombstone owner three months after that. Good guy, though."
"Your aversion to overnights makes a little more sense."
"Never in a million years. You don't want something like that coming after you."
"In my case, could it get much worse?" I said with a half-smile.
"Man, I wouldn't even joke about that," he said, making the sign of the cross, "You don't want that shit attachin' itself to you. With your luck, you'd bring him in here, and it'd hop over to me. I can't have a ghost crimping my style."
After a bit, he got called away to sign off on a delivery. I finished out my shift and headed out to the parking lot. When I exited the building and spotted my car, I froze. My doors were all open, and the interior lights were on. Someone had broken in.
I glanced around the lot to see if the thief was still around, but there wasn't another person near me. I walked over to the car and peered inside. My glovebox had been ripped open, and my registration was pulled out, but nothing else was missing.
I found little hand prints in the dirt all along the body and the windows. I held mine up for comparison, and they were about half the size. It must've been some tweens or teens who did this. Maybe they were going to steal some things and got cold feet. I contemplated calling the cops, but since nothing had happened and they wouldn't do anything anyway, there was no reason to delay sleep any longer than I had to. I closed all the doors and climbed inside.
I started the car and heard something rattling in the AC vents. I pulled out my phone and shined the light at the vent. There was a small piece of paper inside. I looked around my car for some tool to pull it out and only found an ink pen and a bent-up paperclip. After McGuyvering the vent for a bit, the paper finally came out.
I held it up and unfolded it. There was a handwritten note. It simply read, "I know you're here. I know you're hiding him. I will find you both, and then it'll be your turn to run the race. We all have to run at some point."
I had no idea what that meant, but my body still provided goosebumps. Who was trying to find me? Who was the second person? Why leave a note in my AC vent? What the hell did run the race mean? I hadn't run a race since elementary school and wasn't planning to do so any time soon. Did they mean the rat race? Because I was basically marathoning that motherfucker already.
"Jesus Christ," I said, shaking my head. "What else, universe?"
As if it were a well-practiced comedy routine, the universe responded. My back passenger door swung open, and I heard footsteps running away from my car. I sprung up and scrambled to get out. There wasn't anyone else in the lot that I could see, but very clearly, someone had been hiding in my backseat.
My nerves were shot already, and this was not something I wanted to deal with at the moment. My brain decided that to avoid a breakdown, I needed to shift into automatic mode and just get back to the safety of my apartment. I'd be more prepared to deal with this – whatever it was – in the morning.
Either that or I'd jump in front of a bus. Both sounded satisfying, albeit in different ways.
***
"There he is," Gloria said as soon as I turned down the hallway. I looked up and noticed a small cabal of my neighbors standing in a semi-circle, waiting for me. They all look displeased.
"Hey guys," I said, confused. "I miss an invite for a block party?"
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
"About?"
"Don't play dumb," another neighbor said, jabbing their finger in my direction.
"I'm not playing," I said, realizing the self-burn only after the words escaped my lips.
Gloria showed me the screen on her phone. It was a static shot of her door from across the hall. She pressed play, and nothing happened for a beat until something darted across the screen. That was the whole thing. I looked up at her, my face twisted up in confusion.
"Well," she said, "What do you have to say?"
"What was that?" I asked.
"That was you!" the pointing neighbor said, pointing harder than I thought possible.
"What?" I said, laughing. "Are you all serious?" They didn't laugh, and I realized they weren't joking. "How can you even tell it's me? It's a blur. Never mind the fact I've been at work for the last five hours. Plus, this blur is half my size. I get we're all weirded out about the Phantom Runner, but it's not me. I swear to God. I don't even have the energy to think about running, let alone the physical desire to."
"Then explain this," Gloria said, slightly swaying from the half bottle of Pinot Noir coursing through her blood. She rewound the video and froze it on a specific frame. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I was looking at...me. Or, rather, something pretending to be me.
"What the fuck?" I said, my jaw dropping.
"Still think we're lying?" the pointer said smugly.
"No, but, guys, this isn't me. I... I've been at work. Wanna see my schedule?"
I reached into my phone and pulled it out. There was an email with my work schedule that confirmed what I was saying. They relaxed, and, for the first time, anger gave way to fear. Their very plausible explanation was suddenly invalid. It left two implausible answers floating in the ether: either I had a pint-sized doppelganger terrorizing the hallways of my apartment, or a ghost was haunting the building.
"I'm...gonna go inside," the pointer said, walking back to their home. Everyone else drifted away until it was just Gloria and I standing alone in the hallway.
She looked at me and sighed, "I feel like an asshole," she said. "Sorry I accused you of causing the racket."
"If I had seen the video, I would've thought the same thing," I said. "We're good."
"What do you think it is?" she asked.
I shrugged and let out an exhausted sigh. "Honestly, Gloria, I've had a screwed-up night already, and this is the cherry on top of the shit sundae; forgive my language. I don't have the mental bandwidth to even comprehend what's on the video at the moment."
"Think it's after you?" she asked, though I suspected the wine had forced her to put that idea out into the universe. As I had already seen, the universe seemed to take requests on my behalf.
"Maybe it's after you?" I said, coming off a little meaner than I intended, but I didn't care. I left her there to contemplate that scenario and went into my apartment.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I felt on edge. Just because I didn't have the mental bandwidth to discuss the doppelganger didn't mean it wasn't dominating my thoughts. I saw the frame of the video. The damn ghost looked exactly like me. What could that possibly mean? I know I had wished for death, but I was very still alive. I had rent due to prove that.
Did I happen to live in a place haunted by a ghost that looked strikingly like me? Was it some kid with a passing resemblance just causing chaos? Was it something else I couldn't even comprehend – an alien? A clone? A secret government project?
There was a thumping coming from the hallway. The mini Usain Bolt was at it again. I knew the neighbors would ignore it. Since they had all thought it was me, which was proven to be untrue, they would avoid the running man from now on. While curious and confused by the creature, they'd never put themselves in harm's way to discover what it was. They were not a brave lot.
Neither was I, but maybe my life crumbling around me had forced my hand. I walked over to my door and swung it open. I hit record on my phone, stuck it out like a periscope, and glanced around the hallway. Nobody was there. No neighbors were looking. No person was running.
"You gotta stop, man. I need to go to sleep," I said to the empty space. No response, not that I was expecting one.
I turned to walk back in, and I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A face at the end of the hallway peeked around the corner. For a quick second, we locked eyes, and it was like I was looking into a mirror. This thing was me. But...how?
I tried to get it on video, but it ducked back into the shadows. I took that as a cue to shut and lock my door. My heart was racing, and I didn't want to think about this anymore, but I couldn't help it. There was a me in the hallway who enjoyed pestering my neighbors. Worse, they liked to run for some ungodly reason.
I put my phone on the counter, the video still rolling, when there was a knock at my door. It echoed in my near-empty apartment. I tried to ignore it and convince myself it was something else, but it wasn't. The ghost was knocking on my door. Even with my brain paralyzed, I couldn't help but think that it was awfully polite to knock.
Another knock, this one more forceful. I wondered if the neighbors thought I was making this up?
"I know you're in there," a voice said. It sounded just like me. "This is about the race. We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I froze. My legs went wobbly like a boxer on the brink of a blackout, but I stayed tall. I opened my mouth to speak and found the words dying in my throat. I grabbed a nearby bottle of water and took a chug.
"We all have to run the race."
"What race?" I choked out, "What are you talking about?"
"Open up. They're in there already, and I need to get them."
I glanced all around my empty apartment. I didn't see anyone else in here. I didn't hear anything. Whatever this thing was, it was lying. I grabbed my phone and held it in my hand. I wanted to document this to prove that I wasn't crazy.
“Did you leave the note?”
“I know they’re in there with you,” it repeated.
"There's no one in here," I said.
"They're hiding. I think I know where. I can hear them."
"You've gotta get out of here," I said. "There's nothing here, and you're scaring people."
"I'm scared, and you should be! You have to run the race, man! Open up, and I can show you."
The handle started to shake. I peered through the keyhole and only saw the top of the other me's head. They began to shoulder the door, and it crunched against my nose. I screamed out in pain and stumbled back. I tripped over my feet and landed hard on my ass.
The thing slammed into the door two more times, shaking the walls. The strength seemed unnatural. On the third hit, the door burst open. I finally got a view of the thing. It was me. Scaled down by half, but it was me. We both seemed shocked.
"You're so much taller up close," the other me said.
"Who the fuck are you?"
I felt a buzzing in my feet that seemed to climb up my body until it reached my brain. There was an intense pain that rippled through the folds of my mind. Through the pain, I could hear a disembodied voice whisper, "We all must run the race. We all have to run. Chase it. Chase yourself." It felt like my skull was going to split in two. I clutched the sides of my head and let out a primal scream that hurt my own ears.
Then it was gone. But I could still feel the echoes in my mind. "We all have to run the race. We all have to run." The thought would waver between making no sense and making complete sense. One second, I was questioning what was happening to my mind, and the next, all I felt was the desire to continue the race.
"There he is!" the other me yelled, pointing at the hallway.
I glanced over and saw another version of me standing in the hallway. It was half the size of the other me that had broken into my place. When tiny me locked eyes with my intruder, he ran for the open hallway closet.
The other me followed, screaming that it would catch the little bastard if it was the last thing he'd do. I pushed myself up to my feet and felt queasy. I watched as the other me ran head-first into the closet without slowing. I expected to hear a loud thump as it hit the back wall but none came.
"We all have to run the race," the voice in my head said, soothing my nerves. "It's your time to run the race."
I moved down the hallway, each footfall echoing loudly in the empty apartment, each step bringing me closer to the closet door. Something was drawing me there. The voice's words echoed in my mind as well: "We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I grabbed the door and stopped. Something was compelling me to move forward. To go into the closet. To chase myself. To run the race.
"No," I whispered and yanked my hand from the door. I pulled out my still recording phone, and stared into the camera. My face was devoid of color, and you could see the fear etched into me. "I'm freaking out because...because…"
I stopped. I felt an invisible hand grab my body and tug. "Because...because if I don't run the race, something bad will happen. I have to chase it. I...I have to."
My phone dropped from my hand, and I didn’t care. The force pulling me forward stopped but my body kept going. I could feel the last strands of my rational mind splintering. My thoughts became focused on one thing: I had to catch myself, find out what was happening, and run the race. If I ran, maybe I'd win.
I needed a win.
I walked into the back of the closet and felt a door handle sticking out of the wall. I'd been in that closet a million times before and never had seen this. But a sense of calm washed over me. This….this was supposed to be here. This was perfectly fine.
I turned the handle and pulled open the invisible door. In front of me was a hallway that looked strikingly like the one outside my apartment. At the end of the hallway, I saw Gloria step out of their home to leave for the night. She was huge. Twice my size, easy.
Another door opened, and I saw...me—a giant version of me. The Hulk version of me was getting ready to go to the grocery store for work. I watched as the giant Gloria and giant me joked and laughed. I was stunned.
I stared, and a new thought came to me. I have to find the smaller me and talk to it. I needed to find out if there's a way out of this...this….
"It's your turn to run," the voice said.
Calm embraced me. "It's my turn to run," I repeated. As the giant me took off and the giant Gloria re-entered her apartment, the hallway beckoned.
"We all have to run the race," I said softly, "It's my turn now."
I started running.

Hello, I am 19M. Currently about 1 year in out of a 4 year active duty contract with the Marines (I enlisted right out of high school).
Being a teacher has kind of been something in the back of my mind since I was in middle school. When I was a senior in high school I wanted to go to school for civil service (in particular I wanted to work in child services). When I told my career counselor this all I remember was the shock on her face as she tried to persuade me into business or marketing which many of the other kids were going for. So I was pretty demotivated after that and ended up just joining the military after a recruiter called me.
I’m coming here now with about 3 years (technically 2.5 years with terminal leave/skillbridge, etc.) left, I want to ask the pros and cons of being a teacher, if you recommend I start at middle school or high school, and if there is anything I could do online and get some early degrees to start working on it with my Tuitions assistance.
Some background on me/why I want to be a teacher, when I was a highschooler I always found myself in limbo between an excelling student but one who just couldn’t connect with the class/teachers. No disciplinary issues besides just blatantly not showing up to school senior year once I had already DEPed in for the military, but in freshman year I had made honor classes and whatnot but with COVID/some personal things I was barely passing them and went back to general ed.
History was the one class I always enjoyed, and my history teachers I was always close to and I believe this is one of the biggest reasons why I want to become a teacher now. I am aware of the general cons of the job, high stress, low pay, etc. I am sure there are more, but I genuinely want to go out and be a teacher that is remembered by the students by someone who was more a history teacher and more of a supportementor, someone they can look forward to seeing when they come to school because I know what that feeling is as a student.
I’ll give more details in the comments, thanks!

On February 22nd, I took an 11.25 mg 3 month Lupron Depot dose - intended to lower my natal sex hormone production (testosterone). On March 11th, I took another 7.5 mg 1 month Lupron Depot dose.
Since that dose I have had overwhelming symptoms which constantly vary - issues with high testosterone, symptoms mirroring excess growth hormone (nightly tissue swelling, forehead bossing), strange autoimmune reactions (bouts of excess heat or cold, constant goosebumps, larynx portrusion/ swelling). It has been three months since the first dose and the issues still persist. Doctors can not pinpoint what is wrong with me, I am just hoping that once the Lupron is gone I will be ok again.
Is there any way to best support the metabolism of the Lupron Depot out of my system? Is there an estimated time frame for the Lupron to actually leave my system? Can anyone find more information on the pharmacokinetics of this drug?
I've spent hours upon hours scouring the internet and contacting customer service hotlines, but the research done into this drug is so limited. If I had known about the issues others had with this drug I would've never touched it. I really feel like my life has been upended by this, with symptoms constantly shifting or worsening in intensity. Thank you if you took the time to read through, I would really appreciate any help or ideas 💛

18 months of hell.
In November 2022 I got accused of a very serious crime and investivated by police. My girlfriend at the time lost her job. I had to move home because rent was getting ridiculous for the area and quality.
Christmas 2022, grandfather dies of a Stoke. At rhe same time, grandmother on other side of family nearly dies of the same thing.
Ny father can't speak at his dad's funeral, I step up, trying to support the family and keep things ordered. I do it. But I see my dad cry fir the first time in my life...
I took out a £15k loan. Which helped with credit card debt (due to my gf at the time not really working or paying for anything), then after I moved, new housemate was a fucking slob who used my good nature to treat the place like a shit tip. Leaving chocolate out for my dog to eat and everything.
Police issue is resolved, no evidence after I get a solicitor and an interview. Still to this day, I flinch when I hear sirens...
Birthday... gf St the time, while sleeping upstairs and I sleep on the sofa cause be and my friend are chatting unti lwe fall asleep ad a heavy day drinking... ex comes down.. stands over me. And hits me so hard I scream. House wakes up. Mate sees this happen. And then housemate comes down, and asks why she got in his bed... she is currently pinning me down, crying and screaming.. I tell everyone to go to bed and deal with it the next day.
Tell gf at the time that she has fucked up... She doesn't know why she did it... says she was sleep walking.. touch starved...
Had to physically remove housemate after 1) his room smelled so bad, that I had to get landlords involved and a professional carpet clean on his room and 2) he pissed on my fucking landing carpet.
Months of me paying nearly as much rent as I earn in wage, due to gf at the time barely paying me... get a housemate in who wants the place to be good to live in.. Ex decides to threaten suicide when it's just me and her, after multiple times she has grabbed and tried to hold me down knowing I am in pain from her hitting me... She locks herself in the bathroom (razors and isopropyl alcohol inside, and apparently as I find out later, our dog). I call 111, she is screaming, I'm taking on the phone to try to get control... I struggle...
Eventually she opens the door, screaming at me... 111 operator can't do anything more... I thank him and hang up.. ex gf screaming at me immediately.. im the worst person, im stupid... can't believe i believed her she might commit suicide. How stupid am I.. all of it.. I broke.. broke up with her. Hated life, hated myself. Still do.
This was November 2023.. she finally left in May 2024. Every day since I havent been able to say a word in my house. I have been belittled, broken, criticised, for the tiniest things... while I can't say a word against anyone... she left dishes to go mouldy, I cant ask her to clean after herself.... and that's the minor things..
I am alone... when she left, she took the dog.. she was ours. She slept with me every night... ans now she is gone.. to a girl who never took her for a walk unless she was the ONLY one to.. and even then.. First walk at 2:30... maybe 5pm...
I dont know anymore. I'm sick of everything.. ex even got to move out of London and keep her job.. Best I could argue was the possibility of a transfer... but I'd lose my London weighting... and fuck over my housemate...
I don't even know what I need.. I've had counselling, the Counsellor didn't turn up to half the sessions... And can't get free ones... I canr get help for domestic violence victims as its not an ongoing issue and I'm a male in my 30s. So im not priority (I get it, but im allowed to say it hurts not getting support).
I just want to be allowed to live a normal life.. I dont want this... I just want to scream.
Thank you if you read this. I'm sorry if its not the usual content.

Hej! I shopped a few grocery stores while I visited Lund. I believe their names were Willy:s, Coop, and ICA. I don't remember which I was at specifically when I picked out this candy. It was from a bulk "Pick-and-Mix" section. The candy itself was oblong in shape, similar to an egg, and it was was about 1/2-1/3 the size of a chicken egg. The color was yellow, I believe the flavor was lemon, and inside there was a very soft black licorice. Is anybody familiar with this candy? What it's name is? Where I can buy some online? Tack så mycket!

I'm 39(F) and my partner is a 50(M). We've been together for 3 years, lived together for 2. I suffered severe childhood trauma and I began therapy 9 years ago to address my issues, etc. It has helped tremendously, but I still live with a lot of anxiety and PTSD episodes. I was up front about all of this when he and I began dating.
After we moved in together, I stopped drinking completely. I found that alcohol has more of a negative effect on me than a positive one. I never asked my partner to stop drinking. I told him it wasn't necessary and he was free to make his own choices. He rarely drinks now, but will go out to the bar every once in a while.
We have separate bank accounts, but I pretty much manage our financials so I have access to his online account. I also keep track and organize all of our receipts. A few weeks ago, I was sorting through his receipts and found one for the bar and I didn't know that he had gone out. When I found, I asked "Oh, when did you stop at the bar?" and he said "a couple of nights ago to see pictures of so & so's new baby, talked with the owners." and we had a simple, normal conversation about it.
Two nights ago, I scheduled a pickup order from the grocery store and he was going to stop on the way home from work to get it. They were behind and had to delay our order. He called to let me know that, but I missed the call. I called him back a few minutes later, no answer. I texted him and told him that I had just called , but he didn't answer and to let the store know that we would just pick the order up in the morning. His next text read "I didn't get a call. I'm heading out now. Be home soon. All of the pickup lines are complete full."
Which makes it sound like he's sitting in the store parking lot, no?
He gets home, I ask him how his day was, the usual.
Yesterday, I am balancing our accounts and I notice a charge from the bar on the night he was supposed to pickup the order. I texted him and asked "Where were you when you sent the last text?" He replied, "having a drink the bar, waiting for you to call me back."
We share a vehicle and I had to pick him up from work last night. On our way home, I asked him, "Why do I always find out about you going to the bar after it happens and never directly from you?" Which led us into a huge fight where he accused me of being controlling, he didn't know that he needed to ask permission to go have a drink after work, and that I was insecure for getting upset by it.
I tell him pretty much everything about my day. I ask him trivial questions about his all of the time, like "What did you have for lunch?" because I like to know stupid details like that. I just like having a conversation with my partner about anything and everything. Am I wrong to get upset about him not telling me about him going to the bar? If it's not a big deal that he goes, why keep it from me? Is this me trying to control the relationship?

This group is amazing! We are here because we believe in something bigger than ourselves. It doesn't matter if you have 1 share or 1 million of FFIE stock. You are here for a reason. You are a part of a family...THIS family. There will be highs. There will be lows. But if we stick together we can see where it takes us, and we do it together! Do not invest in anything if you can't afford it. Be realistic and smart about your financial choices and goals. But if you bought even 1 share some part of you said "this could be something big and I want in on it". If that is the case then HOLD. As people have pointed out, this is a marathon, not a race. Its not a get rich quick scheme. This will take time. There will be scary moments. But we need to be there for each other. The only way you lose is if you sell. Then you have no chance of getting your hard earned money back. And wouldn't it be nice if you could make a little profit? All these online trolls trying to provoke you to get an emotional reaction. They want to discredit what we believe in. They want to attack you and use scare tactics to create an argument and create divide. They want to silence us. They don't want you to win. Real members of this FFIE community shouldn't be bullies. We encourage each other, we educate each other, we dream big together. In this crazy world we live in oftentimes it's every person for themselves. So many things divide the world today. Age. Race. Religion. Identity. Socioeconomic Status. Whatever. But here, none of that other stuff seems to matter. We are ONE. It just feels like most the people here are really trying to look out for one another. If you don't believe in this then you are entitled to your opinion. Then just quietly leave the group. We don't want your pessimistic negativity. You don't belong here. This group offers positivity, hope, a sense of community, and a dream to have a better financial future for each our families. We are Roaring. We are Apes. We are Astronauts seeking Diamond Hands. "Aim for the stars, if you fail, you'll land on the moon". Win or lose... I'm in this until the end with the rest of you soldiers! I am honored to be a part of a potential life changing movement alongside you, and I love and appreciate all of you.

TL;DR:
I'm (23 M) currently living in the northeast of the US. I don't usually do this but recently I found myself with $700 of spare cash I won from sports betting. I found this Japanese escort agency online and decided to go check it out. I have never done this before and I usually is a relationship type of guy, but in the past few years things didn't go really well for me so I'm lonely most of the time. I am aware that finding an escort is frawned upon and I tried to release my urges by porn or just do NoFap for a month.
But last night I was so damn bored and horny so I went to the girl's place. I smoked a big joint and got VERY high before I went upstairs. I knocked, she opened the door, she is VERY pretty, 9/10 face, almost perfect body with a beautiful ass, the only imperfection would be that she has boobjob done, but it looks really good unlike most exaggerated bolted boobjobs on instagram. We showered together, went to bed, kissed, she gave me a blowjob for 15 minutes and then we got down to business. I initially used a condom but it just didn't feel as good and I started to get soft 15 minutes in, so my HIGH, STUPID brain asked if it was okay to not use a condom. She did not seem to be reluctant AT ALL, and just asked me "inside or outside?" as in if I want to cum inside her. I said inside and she said that would be $200 extra, I agreed. So I finished sex with her with no condom for a while, and I must say it was one of the stronger nut I've had in a while, the whole experience was kind of amazing.
Before you comment what a piece of shit I am, I immediately regretted my actions and just felt like this is a mistake as in this is very risky behavior and I could catch many STDs by fucking a hooker. Not to mention it is also very unfair to my future partners, I feel horrible. I gave her the money and just went home, sitting on my couch, starting to have deep anxiety on what's gonna happen next.
I know that HIV is very uncommon transmitting from female to male, but I still think it is very risky since she seems to do this on a regular basis. So I booked an appointment with an online doctor and try to get PEP(post exposure drug to prevent HIV) and doxyPEP(to prevent syphilis and other bacterial infections). Since prostitution is illegal in where I live, I told the doctor I'm gay and had unprotected sex with a stranger in a party. I used my real name for the account but chose to not use my health insurance because I don't want anyone to know about this and I am super ashamed about this. The doc prescribed me the meds and I went to pick it up in CVS. However, instead of the usual price of $3,000, CVS only charged me $1.13 which means it definitely went through my health insurance, I am confused how this could've happened because I didn't provide ID or SSN, just my name and DOB.
Would me getting PEP and doxyPEP affect my career and future health insurance plans because I have promiscuous past? I got on HIV and other STD meds ASAP so my risk should be low. But I am super anxious if anyone will know I got HIV prevention meds since I used my health insurance and how it's gonna affect my future, does anyone know anything about this? Will HIPAA laws protect my privacy in this case?
I'm feeling pretty horrible about my action already, I dunno how health system in US works since I am not from here, but I am super anxious that it will affect my future life(caree future health plans). Thanks everyone!

Hello, I am 19M. Currently about 1 year in out of a 4 year active duty contract with the Marines (I enlisted right out of high school).
Being a teacher has kind of been something in the back of my mind since I was in middle school. When I was a senior in high school I wanted to go to school for civil service (in particular I wanted to work in child services). When I told my career counselor this all I remember was the shock on her face as she tried to persuade me into business or marketing which many of the other kids were going for. So I was pretty demotivated after that and ended up just joining the military after a recruiter called me.
I’m coming here now with about 3 years (technically 2.5 years with terminal leave/skillbridge, etc.) left, I want to ask the pros and cons of being a teacher, if you recommend I start at middle school or high school, and if there is anything I could do online and get some early degrees to start working on it with my Tuitions assistance.
Some background on me/why I want to be a teacher, when I was a highschooler I always found myself in limbo between an excelling student but one who just couldn’t connect with the class/teachers. No disciplinary issues besides just blatantly not showing up to school senior year once I had already DEPed in for the military, but in freshman year I had made honor classes and whatnot but with COVID/some personal things I was barely passing them and went back to general ed.
History was the one class I always enjoyed, and my history teachers I was always close to and I believe this is one of the biggest reasons why I want to become a teacher now. I am aware of the general cons of the job, high stress, low pay, etc. I am sure there are more, but I genuinely want to go out and be a teacher that is remembered by the students by someone who was more a history teacher and more of a supportementor, someone they can look forward to seeing when they come to school because I know what that feeling is as a student.
I’ll give more details in the comments, thanks!

Hi! In a month, I will be going to Singapore for a month. I’ve looked at many itineraries and can’t seem to find one that’s 30 days long. I’ve also tried planning my own, but by the 2nd week there isn’t anything I can find to do.
I am following my parents on a business trip to the country where they won’t be available for the majority of the day. I am still a minor and can’t and not allowed leave the country alone.
For the first 12 days, I’ve mainly planned it as below.

1. MBS
2. Sentosa + Luge
3. Orchard/Shopping
4. Hikes and Nature Walks
5. Clarke Quay
6. Chinatown, Little India
7. Bugis
8. Treetop Walk
9. The Northern Areas
10. Changi/The Jewel/The Mall in Changi
11. Arab Street
12. The Zoos & Night Safari

Are there any local spots and other more unique places that could fill up 18 days?
I used to live in HK (coming from Canada this time), so I went to Singapore and went to popular places like Universal and Sentosa (Universal is bloody expensive and no fun alone so I won’t be going).
Thank you so much!

Hotel room Renting
Hello guys, i am currently living in bangkok and the other day i was so drunk and booked the hotel from booking website (traveloka) but the issue is i got the wrong booking date and chose non refundable one.Location is the Bazzar hotel bangkok near Latphrao and date is June 2nd to 3rd (1 night with breakfast 2 persons).The price is only 1000 bahts (actually i had given the website more than that) but you guys only have to pay 1000 bahts.You can dm me or add line id -Andrew263 for information for booking or any other things. You guys can take the booking receipt face to face .I will give you the booking receipt.I am also a foreigner too.

Hi everyone,
My 2yrs toddler slept over my place 3 days for the first time last week. Here's how things went
1 day: After washing up he crawled himself up to bed and went to sleep right away. At 2:30am he woke up and starting looking for mom this took about 10 min and fell back asleep until morning.
2 day: He noticed that sleeping in that room = no mom. So he didn't want to sleep in the first room. So I took him to the second room and he was ok with it. No waking up or looking for mom.
3 day: Again, he noticed that sleeping in either room = no mom. So he wanted to be in the living room. I read him a book and he fell asleep in my arms. So I put him to bed and slept with him. He did not look for mom or woke up until morning.
I thought everything went great but here's what my ex emailed me.
After his first night with you at your place on Thursday, I told Noah that he will be sleeping another night with you on Friday and I noticed that he got very quiet and his demeanor changed from his usual playful mood.
That may have been your account of what happened on Sunday, but in actuality after I picked him up and got home, and as soon as I opened the car door, he saw that he was home and he cried and would not let go of me saying ,"mom mom". He would not let go of me for a long time and wanted to be next to me for the rest of the day.
He was so tired after those couple days of staying with you that he slept 14 hours two nights in a row (even after taking solid naps during the day), waking up throughout the night looking for me, crying “mom mom“ even though I was sleeping next to him.
On Sunday when we went to church, his behavior was different than usual and other church members there noticed as well. He would play, then freeze and then look and down do a side glance at me. When I would comfort him, he would pull my hands on his him and then place his hands on top to make sure that I don’t leave.
Have anyone go through something like this? What are some coparenting schedule that worked out for you? If something like this happened to you, how long did it last until child was ok?
Thank you in advance
Update: She decided that he will no longer sleep over at my place until she think he’s ready. I’m so fed up with her controlling the situation and will be taking legal action to get custody.
5/21: I got served at work with court summon (which I was expecting so it didnt hit me hard) but what did hit is the allegation that she put in her statements. Its fking hilarious how your ex can use single little things to try to get at you legally. Basically she is saying that she wants sole custody because I'm not capable of taking care of my son. I went to lawyers office and they laughed it off saying " yeah we see this all the time, dont you worry about it ". You know I tried to keep this civil as possible not touching any of her finance but she started this war. I will go after all the assets that she has and she can have mine too. (I was a stay home dad for over a year due to her request) After finish talking to the lawyer, puzzles started to match.. she never REALLY wanted 50/50 like she had said in mediation.
Can you guys share your story? Like if your ex made false allegation towards you and how you won 50/50 custody?