Make gas grill

I'm considering Raptor Lining my 2000 SE, but don't know if its worth it at this point.
Reasons in favor:

1. Practically, the paint needs repairing anyway. Had Lots of chips and peeling down to the primebare metal when I got it. I patched some of it but not all of it.
   
2. Visually, My patching is not too pretty because it's done with grey primer (original paint is silver) it's actually not nearly as noticeable as you would assume but it's not ideal still.
   
3. I go offroading in the bush and even before my ownership, the sides were already pinstriped to the hell. It would be nice to have something that doesn't scratch and I am 100% NOT spending probably the price of the damn car just to repaint with normal paint that's just gonna get fucked right away again. So it's kinda raptor or nothing (except patches)
   
4. I want a green paint color, (My car is silver) and like I said I am not bothering to pay to repaint this whole thing with normal paint. Paint color obviously isn't a deal breaker but having a color I like would be sweet, I can't lie. and I kinda like the unique and matte look of raptor liner more than gloss paint
   

BUT, some counter reasons to this consideration:
-This is a 24 year old car with 280k miles. It has a pile of minor-moderate issues, and although I plan to do a maintenance spree this summer and also despite how much I love this car, realistically, I don't know how much longer it's even gonna last.

• It's Not a very fancy or saught after car in the first place and it cost me just $1,300 when I got it. Raptor lining a car costs over $400.

-I don't necessarily want to get rid of this car but I do someday want to get a 4runner or something else nicer anyway. I don't know when exactly. At least a few years out, or if this thing croaks before then.
-This is also my daily car (I don't have space or money for a whole second vehicle ok?) and although I dont drive too much, I don't want to do anything that would make my gas mileage too much worse than it already is, which I wonder if the bumpy texture would affect my aerodynamics noticeably.
So taking all that into consideration, is it even really WORTH doing anything so 'fancy' to this car? I mean, mostly will it even live long enough to justify spending money on a new paint job at all?

Don’t cook me!!
But, last year I completed my MBA (online) and it wasn't from a Top school, but the degree was pretty much 75% covered so I took on practically no debt. My mistake was doing it online and not in person more so than the actual program (covid-admit so I kinda had no choice anyway)
But I am currently working on my MSCS degree, and have been finding so many ways that the 2 can intersect the school I am getting my MSCS degree DOES have a TOP business school so I have been able to network and make valuable connections.
Currently in the works of trying to land a role doing: VC, Eq. Research, or a Data related role within finance.
But I quit my job for a year this time to actually do this in person and just wanted to hear some folks' success stories. I love posts like these but please keep this positive and don't grill me!

Last year I completed my MBA (online) and it wasn't from a Top school, but the degree was pretty much 75% covered so I took on practically no debt. I think where I made a mistake was doing it online and not in person more so vs the actual program.
But I am currently working on my MSCS degree, and have been finding so many ways that the 2 can intersect and the school I am getting my MSCS degree DOES have a TOP business school so I have been able to actually network and make valuable connections.
Currently in the works of trying to land a role doing:VC, Eq. Research, or a Data related role within finance.
But I quit my job for a year this time to actually do this in person and just wanted to hear some folks' success stories after graduating with your MSCS. Please keep this positive and don't grill me!

Or are they essentially minimizing the effects of each other? I have an 8” 300blk with an AGB and carbine buffer, but it’s got crazy recoil. Is there anything I can do for that?

The night was bone-chillingly cold. The slightest whisper of a breeze nipped at my exposed ears and drafted unpleasantly within my overly large winter coat. The black, barren trees stood unmoving like sentinels bearing ominously down upon either side of the sleet-slick street, which was lit only by dim street lamps that, other than creating a dull yellow reflection on the otherwise unlit pavement, seemed to do nothing against the oppressing dark of this fateful December night.
I had passed through a wrought iron gate twenty minutes before, the gate that separated a cozy subdivision from this eerie, undeveloped stretch of road that seemed to be dropped in the middle of the forest. I could think only of my warm, lively hearth and a nice, hot cup of tea between my palms, which now, instead of being pressed against warm porcelain, were being stabbed by my untrimmed fingernails as I tightened my fist onto the leash and plunged the other still deeper into my coat.
This night was the culmination of weeks of investigation on a missing person’s case turned sour. A man named Arthur Smith had reported his four daughters missing, then hung himself three days later when we couldn’t find anything. Oddly, Arthur’s body went missing from the morgue shortly after. The only trace left was an incredible amount of flies, and we were displeased to see that every drawer was leaking a mixture of blood and embalming fluid because the refrigerant pipes burst. When we opened them up, the neck of every corpse had been slit.
Eventually, through good detective work, we were able to connect some dots, and that led us to where we were now: We were now on a manhunt for a suspect that was last seen at a gas station about a mile up the road, not two hours earlier. We checked a network of cameras to see that he had headed for the woods, grabbed the hounds, and here we were.
My colleagues and I were spread around in different parts of the forest with the police force’s seven bloodhounds. I got stuck with Old Ben, the force’s droopiest and most seasoned canine. He was partially blind and notorious for not obeying commands. He didn’t even respond to a dog whistle, which was why some of my colleagues thought his hearing was shot. I doubted this theory, though, because sure enough, when somebody whispered the word “biscuit,” Old Benny perked up and started wagging his tail.
Another ten minutes found Old Benny and I at the end of the once seemingly endless street, with the streetlamps and pavement stopping abruptly at the edge of the woods, which had not entirely swallowed up a bulldozer. Old Ben stopped and sniffed the air for a moment, then plunged down a path in the woods to our right. It was a dirt path, not two feet wide, overgrown and partially washed out, making it an unpleasant and muddy journey from here on out.
…
My flashlight was now the only source of light illuminating our way. Its beam slid over roots and rocks that jutted out of the path at odd angles and briefly swept over the nearest trees, bringing them out of the shadow for a moment. I felt claustrophobic as they bore down upon me and upon the path. The only sound was my deep breathing, my sloppy footsteps, and Benny’s blundering in the mud about ten feet in front of me.
The path turned in such a way that I could see faint moonlight up ahead, but a cloud soon covered the moon and removed the slight comfort its light had provided. I continued following the curve of the path, and pointed my flashlight up ahead. Suddenly, everything was pitch black, as my flashlight had just gone out without a flicker. I was especially annoyed because firstly, I had just replaced the batteries earlier that week, and secondly, I caught a glimpse of the dark outline of what seemed to be a small cottage up ahead, which was now invisible in the darkness.
To my surprise, Benny stopped as soon as the light went out, which made it easy for me to replace the batteries with the ones that I always carried around in my service belt. To my dismay, Benny did not continue walking when the light flickered back on, even when I started tugging on his leash. He simply sat in the mud and peered at the cottage in the distance, which I knew for a fact he couldn’t see. The cottage was incredibly run down, but I couldn’t see much more, as it was just at the edge of my flashlight beam.
I began feeling uneasy when Benny started whimpering and backing away, tail between his legs. Our dogs were trained to bark when they found something, not stand still, and certainly not whine and back away. Old Ben had never been a skittish animal; I had never seen him act like this before. I peered back at the cottage, suspecting something more sinister than I was originally prepared for.
I tied Benny loosely around a nearby tree, so he could pull away if need be, pulled out my handgun, and continued on. Not fifteen seconds later, I was hit with the smell of blood and wet dog, and heard whimpering to my left. I told Benny to stay, and turned to find him where I left him, about twenty yards behind me, looking at me like I was insane. I bent down and examined the source of the noise, only to find one of our bloodhounds laying just off the path and covered in a mixture of mud and its own blood. It was missing its hind legs and was shivering badly. I cursed and dispatched it with a quick slit with my utility knife, then unclipped its collar and stuffed it into my pocket before turning away. I did not want to alert the suspect of my position. I grew worried about the location of my colleagues, as our dogs were trained not to run off. I also wondered what kind of predator would have taken only the hind legs of an animal. I tried not to think about it as I continued on.
As the cottage grew nearer, I was able to make out a few broken windows reflecting my light back at me. Through these I was able to see that the inside of the cottage was pitch black, the darkest black I had ever seen. I walked closer still, and I couldn’t stop looking into the darkness of the cottage. The darkness was so potent it seemed to be spilling over the window sill into the crisp night air. I felt consumed. My heart began pounding within my chest, and I felt colder than ever as I stepped toward the gravel path that led around to the left of the cottage. The sudden change in surface and the sound of my feet crunching upon the gravel seemed to break my trance, and I shuddered.
I didn’t know why I had felt so trapped, and I didn’t like it. Something was definitely wrong with this situation, and my feelings of dread intensified as I followed the gravel path around to the front of the cottage.
A dripping noise interrupted my thoughts and temporarily washed the dread from my mind. I paused. I determined it was coming from the direction I was headed, but I couldn’t see the front door yet as the porch was draped with ivy. I was suddenly hit with the putrid smell I knew all too well: the smell of death. It hit my nostrils like a truck and returned my feelings of dread all at once. I shined my beam to the front steps.
There was a dark, red liquid trickling gently down the steps, pooling under the porch: blood. I looked up onto the front porch, now visible, and saw the torso of a man hanging from his neck about three feet away from the front door. His legs were nowhere to be seen, though there was a blood trail leading into the house, and his glistening entrails swayed sickeningly with the light breeze. Blood was pooling below him, trickling down the steps, and down through the cracks in the porch. It had begun coagulating, and dark swirling orbs rotated in the puddle each time a drop splashed down. I looked up again at the carcass and recognized the man as our suspect. There was frost beginning to form at the edges of his mouth and over his glassy eyes, but his exposed entrails were still steaming. Furthermore, the blood dripping from his wound was still deep red in color. The back of my neck prickled and I knew this man had not been hanging for very long. No, not very long at all.
I raised my pistol and nudged the front door open. I was again hit with the smell of death, though now much stronger, so strong I could scarcely draw breath. The inside of the cottage was unbelievably dank, and the darkness seemed to eat the quivering beam of light I pointed out in front of me, so I couldn’t see ten feet forward.
I heard a sharp crack and I bolted my gaze to my feet. I had just stepped on a human rib. Suddenly the cottage came alive with creaking and shuffling. I heard flies buzzing all around me. I heard a raspy rushing noise to my right. I shined my flashlight to where I thought the noise was coming from, but all I saw was a bloodstained floor and darkness out in front of me. I took a step toward the noise, and the beam of light revealed the glistening mangled corpse of a man, missing most of his skin, hunched in the corner of the cottage. His whole torso was heaving, and I saw the rushing noise was coming from the base of his throat, where a large gash was opening and closing with every breath, spraying flecks of fluid. Maggots wriggled out of his wound, and black purge fluid trickled from his soupy eye sockets, his missing nose, and his gaping mouth. He was missing most of his teeth, and one of his cheeks was rotted through.
I was frozen in place with fear, until, to my horror, the man’s mangled arm rose and reached out to me. At this I aimed and put a bullet through his partially exposed skull, splattering a putrid mist on the wall behind him. Instead of slumping over, as I prayed he would, the man slowly levitated into an upright position as though controlled by a puppeteer. Skin began regrowing around his legs, his torso, and eventually his skull, which sprouted two bloody horns out of his forehead. This being had the likeness of Arthur Smith, though I sensed it was no longer him. I placed two rounds into his torso, and the being staggered, but the bullet wounds simply closed with sickening squelching sounds. I backed away slowly, and he simply stood in the corner and leered at me with burning black eyes and a disconcerting grin.
I continued to back away slowly, placing one more round between his eyes. His head jerked back, but still it healed and he seemed unbothered. I bolted around and headed for the door. I jerked the handle but it wouldn't budge. I tried kicking it down, which was something I was very practiced at, but still, the rotten oak planks held fast against my will. I turned around, back against the door, firearm at the ready, and stared into the blackness. Everything was quiet once again. Despite the temperature, cold sweat beaded upon my brow and dribbled down my neck.
Suddenly I felt a rumbling that seemed to come from the very depths of the Earth. A splitting and splintering sound came from what I presumed was the center of the cottage, and I was soon showered with bits of wood and stone that nicked my exposed skin and drew droplets of blood. I noticed my back was no longer pressed against the back of the door, though I was not moving. The floor seemed to be carrying me slowly in the direction of the noise. I was frozen in place, and found that I could not change my trajectory.
My flashlight beam found the edge of a large hole in the floor. I saw dark, root-like tendrils sprout from the hole and rush across the floor with the sound of scraping and splintering. They then returned to the hole, and they had within their grasp six bare human bodies, which I horrifically realized were those of my now former colleagues. I watched in horror as their pale naked bodies were folded, torn, ripped, and broken in the churning earth. The sound of tearing flesh and cracking bone was deafening and filled the darkness of the cottage. The mass of mangled flesh formed into one chunky, glistening mound in the center of the hole. It began pulsing and rising, and horrible screams rang in my ears. I watched in horror as the mass formed a humanoid figure that rose up ten feet out of the hole and bent over against the ceiling. It was facing away from me, but its raspy voice seemed to mix seamlessly with the screams directly in my ears.
“The churning of earth, the tearing of flesh, the cracking of bone”
At this it let out a booming laugh that reverberated in my skull and shook the foundation of the building. The cottage once again came alive, but now more than ever before. Shutters were opening and closing, floorboards were rattling, flies swarmed in a huge mass around and around the room, blocking the beam of my flashlight and obscuring my view of the figure. I felt my legs quiver along with the rest of the cottage. I looked down at a red book with its pages fluttering in the still air. I dove for it and slammed it shut, and the cottage grew still. I paused for a moment, but the giant figure began turning towards me. I bolted around to see that the door was now open, but the hung corpse was clinging to the top of the door frame, now very much alive. Its entrails were still swinging freely from its short leap, and the rope lay severed and frayed upon the ground.
I paced towards the door, dumping the rest of my magazine into the corpse, which to my relief fell to the ground with a squelch. I hopped over the body and sprinted out the front door, away from the cottage, down the dirt path. I could still hear the screams of the damned faintly in the distance, and the earth began rumbling once again underneath my feet. I continued running back along the path, trying not to think about what I had witnessed. I paused for a moment to catch my breath, and shivered in the now relentless sleet.
The pounding of the earth became the distant rumble of thunder in the distance. By the time I had gotten back to the paved road, I was soaked to the bone in cold sweat and freezing rain, and I was covered up to my thighs in mud from the path. My coat was snagged and torn in places from the splinters of wood and from branches along the path.
When I finally got back to my car, I saw a leash leading underneath it, and found Old Ben, crouched below, tail between his legs. I scooped him up and plopped him in the passenger seat, entirely disregarding the former cleanliness of my car, as it was now covered in mud and dog hair. I cranked up the heat and sped off towards the station to report what I had witnessed.
…
We never did find that cottage again. Other guys went back to where I was and failed to find the path, but they did find the dismembered bodies of my colleagues hidden under the bulldozer at the end of the street. I was charged with the deaths of my colleagues and was thrown into a mental institute, but I don’t mind it much. There are people here that are far more insane than I am. The worst part is my occasional perception of a distant rumbling, and during thunderstorms I’m a whimpering mess.
I have been disciplined three times for writing symbols on the walls that I can’t get out of my head. I draw them in my blood so they stand out more and resemble what I see. I have found that once they are on the wall, they stay out of my head. Unfortunately, I haven’t finished writing them all out yet. The first time I started I got really close to finishing, but then I found myself strapped to a hospital bed.
The worst part of my new existence is the nightmares. I am plagued by images of my former colleagues: their pale dismembered bodies, the sound of cracking bone, their blood on my hands, their shrieks of pain, and the taste of flesh.

Hello
I (26m) am currently working in a retail sales environment. It is a 100% commission based job, and I am taking home an average of about $6,000/mo after taxes. I am married, and I have a 4.5 yo and a 9 month old. I am currently the only source of income for the family.
My old co worker (30m) is currently working for one of our companies competitors (both companies are the top 2 in the US and go back and forth between which is bette more popular). He is currently averaging just about the same pay (maybe like $100-200 less), BUT he has only been working there for 7 months, and his job has a base salary.
The benefit of my job, is that I have technically have the potential to make more money, however that comes along with each month’s pay varying, sometimes pretty wildly which is one of my main gripes. One month I bring home $7,750 (after taxes) then 2 months later I bring home $4,310 (after taxes). That’s a $3,440 variation, and only a few months separating them. This sometimes leaves me feeling pretty strapped for cash on the below average paychecks.
The other major issue is I have is absolutely no PTO at all. If you want to take a vacation, or even just have something come up in your life that you need some time off for, you’re screwed. I honestly feel completely trapped and like I have no life outside of work. And I also feel like my family isn’t getting the best out of it either, my 4.5yo has never been on a vacation in her life which makes me feel terrible :/
The benefits of my ex co workers job is the pay is fairly consistent because of the base salary, AND he gets 180 hours of PTO a year which is crazy to me. The negative is that he does have to drive to clients houses, and make sales, but they give him the leads so it sounds pretty easy. They also give you a company car and a gas card, so there’s no extra expenses due to driving to the clients houses.
He has received 5 months commission so far, and the first 2 months the company paid him the base salary plus $1,500 so he was making about $4k (after tax) for the first 2 months, then about the same as me for the next 5, but consistent. Meaning yes, he doesn’t have the ability to make as high of highs, however, he doesn’t drop off as hard either. Out of all of his checks the variation is only about $1k ($5,200 worst month, $6,200 best).
Do you think the positives of the more consistent pay, and the PTO are worth changing jobs?
TL:DR Would you rather get paid slightly less, but get PTO and more consistent pay? Or have the ability to make slightly more, but have the pay be less consistent, and get no PTO?

Hello
I (26m) am currently working in a retail sales environment. It is a 100% commission based job, and I am taking home an average of about $6,000/mo after taxes. I am married, and I have a 4.5 yo and a 9 month old. I am currently the only source of income for the family.
My old co worker (30m) is currently working for one of our companies competitors (both companies are the top 2 in the US and go back and forth between which is bette more popular). He is currently averaging just about the same pay (maybe like $100-200 less), BUT he has only been working there for 7 months, and his job has a base salary.
The benefit of my job, is that I have technically have the potential to make more money, however that comes along with each month’s pay varying, sometimes pretty wildly which is one of my main gripes. One month I bring home $7,750 (after taxes) then 2 months later I bring home $4,310 (after taxes). That’s a $3,440 variation, and only a few months separating them. This sometimes leaves me feeling pretty strapped for cash on the below average paychecks.
The other major issue is I have is absolutely no PTO at all. If you want to take a vacation, or even just have something come up in your life that you need some time off for, you’re screwed. I honestly feel completely trapped and like I have no life outside of work. And I also feel like my family isn’t getting the best out of it either, my 4.5yo has never been on a vacation in her life which makes me feel terrible :/
The benefits of my ex co workers job is the pay is fairly consistent because of the base salary, AND he gets 180 hours of PTO a year which is crazy to me. The negative is that he does have to drive to clients houses, and make sales, but they give him the leads so it sounds pretty easy. They also give you a company car and a gas card, so there’s no extra expenses due to driving to the clients houses.
He has received 5 months commission so far, and the first 2 months the company paid him the base salary plus $1,500 so he was making about $4k (after tax) for the first 2 months, then about the same as me for the next 5, but consistent. Meaning yes, he doesn’t have the ability to make as high of highs, however, he doesn’t drop off as hard either. Out of all of his checks the variation is only about $1k ($5,200 worst month, $6,200 best).
Do you think the positives of the more consistent pay, and the PTO are worth changing jobs?
TL:DR Would you rather get paid slightly less, but get PTO and more consistent pay? Or have the ability to make slightly more, but have the pay be less consistent, and get no PTO?

Hello
I (26m) am currently working in a retail sales environment. It is a 100% commission based job, and I am taking home an average of about $6,000/mo after taxes. I am married, and I have a 4.5 yo and a 9 month old. I am currently the only source of income for the family.
My old co worker (30m) is currently working for one of our companies competitors (both companies are the top 2 in the US and go back and forth between which is bette more popular). He is currently averaging just about the same pay (maybe like $100-200 less), BUT he has only been working there for 7 months, and his job has a base salary.
The benefit of my job, is that I have technically have the potential to make more money, however that comes along with each month’s pay varying, sometimes pretty wildly which is one of my main gripes. One month I bring home $7,750 (after taxes) then 2 months later I bring home $4,310 (after taxes). That’s a $3,440 variation, and only a few months separating them. This sometimes leaves me feeling pretty strapped for cash on the below average paychecks.
The other major issue is I have is absolutely no PTO at all. If you want to take a vacation, or even just have something come up in your life that you need some time off for, you’re screwed. I honestly feel completely trapped and like I have no life outside of work. And I also feel like my family isn’t getting the best out of it either, my 4.5yo has never been on a vacation in her life which makes me feel terrible :/
The benefits of my ex co workers job is the pay is fairly consistent because of the base salary, AND he gets 180 hours of PTO a year which is crazy to me. The negative is that he does have to drive to clients houses, and make sales, but they give him the leads so it sounds pretty easy. They also give you a company car and a gas card, so there’s no extra expenses due to driving to the clients houses.
He has received 5 months commission so far, and the first 2 months the company paid him the base salary plus $1,500 so he was making about $4k (after tax) for the first 2 months, then about the same as me for the next 5, but consistent. Meaning yes, he doesn’t have the ability to make as high of highs, however, he doesn’t drop off as hard either. Out of all of his checks the variation is only about $1k ($5,200 worst month, $6,200 best).
Do you think the positives of the more consistent pay, and the PTO are worth changing jobs?
TL:DR Would you rather get paid slightly less, but get PTO and more consistent pay? Or have the ability to make slightly more, but have the pay be less consistent, and get no PTO?

Job 1 - In my preferred career path - Branch of one of the biggest companies worldwide in its industry - Huge opportunities to learn - M-F from 8 to 4:30 - 4 weeks of vacation + public holidays off - Long commute, 1 hour in the morning and 1-1.5 hours in the afternoon - Company bus, so no gas or car maintenance - The norm for this career path in my country is 6 days/week with 1-2 weeks of vacation - Salary is approximately 30-60% higher than the norm
Job 2 - In my non-preferred career path - Also a branch of one of the biggest companies worldwide in its industry - Very few opportunities to learn - Also M-F from 8 to 4:30 - Also 4 weeks of vacation + public holidays off - Short walking commute, 10 minutes each way - The norm for this career path in my country is 5-6 days/week with 2-4 weeks of vacation. - Salary is approximately 50-70% higher than the norm.
Job 1 is the type of job that brings me joy and a sense of accomplishment. I've done it before and loved it. It's something I see myself working for at least a couple of years. But the commute sucks. I already worked in a company that was located at a similar distance, and despite not driving, the traffic and the hours spent on the bus were soul-crushing. After work, I only ate and slept. I had no energy for anything else. ❗️But I'm not sure if it was because I hated the company or that's how the commute makes you feel. The best-case scenario is that I'll spend around 44 hours commuting every month. Only 2 levels: Specialists and Manager, so if decide to advance, unless the manager quit, it would have to be at another company.
Job 2 is like a comfort zone job. It's not bad, but there's no room for advancement. There are very few types of things to do, but a huge volume of work. Also 2 levels only. Don't see myself as a manager. If I move to another company to learn more (at the same level), I'll probably be forced to take a pay cut. I don't want to move for at least 3 years, but I don't want to feel stuck every day. All my friends and family vote for this job. I'll spend around 7.3 hours commuting each month.
Last job was on my preferred career path with a 25-minute walking distance each way. ❗️I'm not sure if it was because I loved the company and the job itself but I felt so full of energy after every day. I finally had a life and hobbies.
It should be mentioned that I am currently without a partner, children, or pets. I probably will not have the luxury of this much time in a couple of years.
For the same pay, which job would you go for?

Job 1 - In my preferred career path - Branch of one of the biggest companies worldwide in its industry - Huge opportunities to learn - M-F from 8 to 4:30 - 4 weeks of vacation + public holidays off - Long commute, 1 hour in the morning and 1-1.5 hours in the afternoon - Company bus, so no gas or car maintenance - The norm for this career path in my country is 6 days/week with 1-2 weeks of vacation - Salary is approximately 30-60% higher than the norm
Job 2 - In my non-preferred career path - Also a branch of one of the biggest companies worldwide in its industry - Very few opportunities to learn - Also M-F from 8 to 4:30 - Also 4 weeks of vacation + public holidays off - Short walking commute, 10 minutes each way - The norm for this career path in my country is 5-6 days/week with 2-4 weeks of vacation. - Salary is approximately 50-70% higher than the norm.
Job 1 is the type of job that brings me joy and a sense of accomplishment. I've done it before and loved it. It's something I see myself working for at least a couple of years. But the commute sucks. I already worked in a company that was located at a similar distance, and despite not driving, the traffic and the hours spent on the bus were soul-crushing. After work, I only ate and slept. I had no energy for anything else. ❗️But I'm not sure if it was because I hated the company or that's how the commute makes you feel. The best-case scenario is that I'll spend around 44 hours commuting every month. Only 2 levels: Specialists and Manager, so if decide to advance, unless the manager quit, it would have to be at another company.
Job 2 is like a comfort zone job. It's not bad, but there's no room for advancement. There are very few types of things to do, but a huge volume of work. Also 2 levels only. Don't see myself as a manager. If I move to another company to learn more (at the same level), I'll probably be forced to take a pay cut. I don't want to move for at least 3 years, but I don't want to feel stuck every day. All my friends and family vote for this job. I'll spend around 7.3 hours commuting each month.
Last job was on my preferred career path with a 25-minute walking distance each way. ❗️I'm not sure if it was because I loved the company and the job itself but I felt so full of energy after every day. I finally had a life and hobbies.
It should be mentioned that I am currently without a partner, children, or pets. I probably will not have the luxury of this much time in a couple of years.
For the same pay, which job would you go for?

Just a heads up if anyone sees any ads for really low priced but really nice cars from a guy claiming to be Jacob Sanchez from Wichita Falls TX don’t fall for his bs.
A good friend got suckered into a long distance transaction with this dude. Several meetings were set up including ones where he would deliver the car 150 miles away to my house. The car was a Blue Dodge Charger. Every single time there was an issue, he was no longer going to be at the meeting spot, etc. Ran out of gas several times and needed money. Engine blew up but he wanted money sent to buy the new engine, etc, etc.
Last time he was supposed to deliver it he requested cash because he didnt have enough gas to make it here. Supposedly left the car at a certain spot and went home. My buddy got a local wrecker company to go retreive it and 30 minutes after he supposedly left the car parked there was no car to be found. (What a surprise …...)
Im surprised my buddy fell for this. He wanted money via PayPal friends and family, tried to get gift cards bought instead of a reputable payment transaction, couldnt call him only text. Etc etc.
My first contact with this jerk I knew he was scamming but my buddy evidently let his desire for the car blind him. Hes lost $3000. So far no help from local police departments. He did get a picture of this guys license, and the phone number finally given him is for a non existent credit repair service in Enid, Oklahoma.
I think he just got a really expensive education on Facebook marketplace. I wish Facebook would kick off all these scammers and scam advertisers but they seem like they dont care. Is there anything else he can do in this case?

Today’s one page challenge is for The City in the Clouds by J.B. Williams. Finally, a requested challenge, rather than the usual cycle of me finding a story and the person being triggered that I did so. At 234 pages and a whopping price tag of $20.99 for a paperback, it’s a wonder why it looks untouched. Flip some burgers for an hour to pay for this… whatever it is. I was told the editor is good, so let’s see how he gummed up the works.
The rules of the one page challenge are simple: I go through the first page of the book(about 300 words or 3 paragraphs) and say where the average reader would stop. These reviews are short, sweet, and to the point (unlike most of these books). The main things we look for are things like tension, a hint at the plot existing, good feng shui, a feeling like the blurb is accurate, a lack of obfuscation, and the story fulfilling its role as a story. As we go along, I’ll explain why readers love or hate certain elements and we’ll see what straws break the camel’s back.
The title, The City in the Clouds, makes me think of fantasy, but it’s meant to be sci-fi. Clouds symbolize knowledge beyond our reach or something like daydreaming, treated as water in air(mystery in knowledge). Saying the title this way makes it seem like the focus is the city itself, which would be cool if it was something like a dystopian or utopian story. Maybe a tech noir or detective story, but… it’s not. This story is actually about a woman, and it’s a comedy, completely conflicting with the genre in two ways.
I didn’t want to say this but Huston… we’re already having problems.
The ebook cover is a drawing of curly haired woman staring at the camera like she’s constipated, while the paperback version is of an anime girl holding a gun and looking like she has diarrhea. Both versions have her in a suit, with a giant gas planet behind her. Both have similar fonts for the title and name, but the ebook version is so blurred and darkened that it reads like a secret message; the physical version being slightly less blurry. If I saw this on a shelf, I wouldn’t recognize this as a book or know what it was called. I find it strange because the back of the book is very clear, given a blue box for clarity, and has a sun with a red sky that would have made more sense than these frumpy women.
I guess the title and name are made illegible because we’re supposed to zoom our eyes straight to the blurb:

Robin Alia Brook is considered a loser. She works at customer service for one of the largest companies in humanity's interstellar empire, gets stood up on dates, and accidentally kills people. Then when her ex-online boyfriend gives her the winning vacation lottery ticket to the famed habitat, The City of Clouds, she reluctantly accepts it.
Upon arrival, she is greeted by the massive, beautiful gas giant Bellona, and all the glamour and prospects of expansion for the famous habitat. And it is the beginning of a celebration, too! For the election of the new habitat captain! But the celebration and vacation are ruined when pirates attack, seeking the captain's riches.
They are ruthless, they are bloodthirsty, and they won't stop until they get what they want. Unfortunately for the pirates, Robin is really good at accidentally killing people, and with her is a rag tag team of a pilot recruit, an egotistical journalist, a veteran photographer, and the captain himself.
It will be a long battle for The City of Clouds, and the outcome is unknown, but one thing is certain... This is the worst vacation ever.

Slight grammar issues here and there, but most wouldn’t notice that “ex-online boyfriend” would mean the boyfriend was online and not anymore. The delivery is a little bouncy, almost appropriate, but doesn’t give much tone from how much info it tries to cram in. Something I noticed is that very little sci-fi is mentioned, with the only thing giving a sci-fi vibe being the idea of traveling to another planet. If this was a vacation to an island, very little would change from how it’s described. Like the title and name on the cover, a lot of what makes this book a book is hidden from us, in plain sight.
At this point, the average reader would probably not give it a shot, unless the idea of pirates and an ironic Die Hard premise is their cup of tea.
No prologue, no maps, no glossary, just a simple chapter 1 to greet us. Ok, I’m liking this already. I know this is a small thing, but the simplicity of just starting a story is a blessing that should be the norm, and isn’t. I haven’t read a single word and this is already the best OPC so far. Yes, it’s that easy.
Don’t ruin the experience with all your fancy try-hard nonsense and the reader will be in hog heaven.
We are told the planet, sector, system, and date. Very effective in establishing the sci-fi element in this single aside, which also lets us know it’s 400 years in the future. The planet is named Andromeda, which is a well known galaxy, so if this is in that galaxy, I assume it’s going for a “New York, New York” type of gag. The editor did a good job, with the first page establishing a scene in a restaurant. What he messed up on was… everything that’s not the scene itself, which makes up 90% of the words.
The protagonist, Robin Alia Brook has her day off described as “shot in the face”, being delivered in present tense and this has it come out awkwardly. I say this because the second sentence is past tense, then it shifts back to present, back to past. This is why people stick with past tense to avoid the headache, and present tense is now used as a hipster novelty to act as if things are more important because they’re happening as they’re written. Most readers just find it as a distraction and it causes something niche to become more niche in the process. The first paragraph ends with us being told that she’s in a restaurant that is 500 feet under the sea, of a planet called Andromeda.
She is to be dining, but she is NOT dining because her date didn’t show. Cue the audience gasping, because this is a travesty. The part that really kills this opening is the sentence “She is currently obtaining nutrients through Poseidon's generous supply of free lemons water and cheesy garlic biscuits.” This was the perfect chance for worldbuilding, to express something futuristic and fresh. Instead, it tied itself to Earth, talked about mundane food like lemon water, and it didn’t use any of these for a punchline.
This is meant to be a comedy, but is absent of comedy. We don’t need a bunch of humor in the first paragraph, but we do expect a comedy to present a tone that can lead to humor occurring. Every scene for a comedy is a setup for gags and punchlines. Much like horror, the scene is built around the mood, which is brought to a peak around half way. The introduction of a comedy book is going to hold a joke in relation to the entire book.
I believe the blurb when it says this Robin character can kill things by accident, because this book dies right after she’s introduced, around the second paragraph. The third paragraph changes the subject to be about other people in the restaurant, acting as a distraction that leads to infodumps of Robin’s outfit and such. I understand that the “joke” is that this woman is stood up on her date and we are to feel her anguish, but the reader shouldn’t be suffering through the opening this soon. Starting here is either far too late or far too soon. If anything, this is something I expect in chapter 2 or something we hear about as she’s on her way to Bellona.
A good way to put it is that this scene is a non-sequitur done in order to give fashion statements, with the important exposition ignored for window dressing.
The average reader needs tension to get sunk into a sci-fi story, because this is a planet we don’t know about with a character we’ve never seen before. What is the point of having this restaurant so deep underwater? There is a city underwater? She has a job, but where does she work? At the Krusty Krab?
Non-sequitur is a distraction that removes us from the scene and the plot to explain things that don’t serve a purpose to either. If I changed the first sentence to only hold what was part of the scene, it would be the characters name and nothing more. To strengthen an opening like this, we would have to set it up for a punchline, reinforce the sardonic tone, and tie the scene with the situation. The first sentence would go like:

Five hundred feet below the sea’s surface, Robin could not stop drinking.

This will give the impression that she’s getting drunk, while attaching her drinking to the sea outside, giving the impression that she’s drowning. But even then, I wouldn’t start here, I would begin with a comedic amount of assurance that she’s going to have her date show up, then the next scene is her waiting with this. That, or I would have her doing the walk of shame, allowing the plot to begin sooner when she gets her golden ticket, which would be like:

The ocean floor outside was slowly swallowed by darkness as the elevator pod took Robin away from Poseidon.

Here, we have a moment for her to think back to the situation, and the word “darkness” gives hint to her current feeling about the restaurant. This is a setup for the punchline that follows, already skipping the failed date and able to move forward to the poster she sees in the elevator. Movies tend to do this type of exposition with the main character telling the situation to another person, who is helpless to escape. That can add more humor and make the main character express their personality quirks. The goal is for less opening to be used up for non-sequitur and to focus it on moving forward in relation to the plot.
For a story like this, the rejection comes from a lack of being straightforward. We can always fix up a sentence and how it sounds, but this doesn’t mean much when the bones are disjointed. Thankfully, for this one, a lot of readers are used to openings like this from online serials, so there is hope that a lot of it will get a pass. It’s that first hump that it has to get over in order to shine. Sadly, for little Robin, that hump was not achieved, so her journey through the city in the cloud might as well not exist.

Long story short for those who don't know it stands for alternate vehicle program.
Using my personal vehicle to make small package deliveries and meet a driver local to get my deliveries.
Starting pay was gonna be $2 a stop but after asking about gas compensation they bumped me to 2.50. average stops a day are 60-80 takes approx 4-5 hours. Meaning 150 to 200 bucks a day.
What's your thoughts?
Edit: I do realize it comes out to 30-37.50 an hour.

My mother has over 10+ autoimmune diseases and she's always sick and in pain but she still gets through. A few months ago, she suggested that I get a summer job because there will be a car available for me at the house (I just graduated undergrad and I'm starting my master's in the fall) and so I decided to start searching for a job because I don't want to be a bum all summer like I have been my entire life. Every single summer I fall into a depressive episode, don't wake up at good times, barely eat, don't work out, never leave the house, etc. But this summer I wanted something different. So after getting the inspiration to apply for jobs, I scored 3 different ones. I decided not to do the first one because I'd be working 24/7 (literally) and it wouldn't be great for my mental health and the pay sucks. I got a second job offer where I would be out in western America for 3-4 weeks, then I'd be in my home state about two hours ish away for another 4-5 weeks. After wanting to do the second job, I told my mom about it and she suddenly said I don't need to work and that she doesn't want me to go and that it wouldn't help my career. I was so confused because getting a job in the first place was all her idea. Then I got another job offer that was significantly closer to home, would help with my career, and I could stay home for the summer and I thought it would be great because I could use the car, but then she said she's not willing to let me use the family car for a job. Then, when I started considering staying, I had a few requests, (1) that I could use the family car to go to the gym and that I would pay for the membership and gas, and (2) that I can use the kitchen appliances to make my own food (they're new and my parents don't allow me to use the stove for anything and only they're allowed to make food but they work remotely in their offices all day so I don't really have time to get either of them to make me food. I learned this from staying home for a few weeks this winter when we got the new appliances). So after requesting those two things, she said no to both and that I should cope with what we have at home. So then I decided I was going to take the job out west because I need to stay on this upwards slope I'm going with my mental, physical, and emotional health.
This weekend, it was my graduation and a week or so before my mother said she didn't want to go and that she wanted to go on a trip because her anniversary is later in the week of my graduation and that I was basically being selfish for not choosing to take a trip for my graduation. Some context, we were planning on going on a trip to Europe for years but then a year or so ago my mother said it wasn't going to happen and so when she asked if I wanted to go to my undergraduate graduation or go on a trip I chose my graduation because I never got a real high school graduation because I graduated in 2020 during the pandemic. So, this past week, she was upset with me about this and she had gotten sicker and so I told her not to come because (1) she doesn't want to come and (2) she's sick, but she decided to come anyways and I am very grateful she did. Fast forward to today, my mother texted me saying that she's not doing well and she wants me to stay home this summer and not do the jobs I have lined up so she can get a break (from worrying about me and financially, even though she said she'd not paying a dime to get me to my job or to help me with my job). She's been coughing a lot and I think it's because she has a respiratory infection from a medication she started taking that could cause a side effect of a respiratory infection but when she went to the doctors they couldn't determine what was wrong with her.
I'm trying to think of I'm leaving anything out... Well for one, I'll be home for the next 2 weeks and then I'm going out to the job out west for 3-4 weeks and then I'm coming back to our home state to work the second part of the job but I won't be living at home. Also, I can't just drop out of the job because (1) I signed a contract, and (2) the company paid for my flights out west and back and the tickets are non refundable and I may want to work with this company next summer.
All in all, I don't know what to do. I know she's not doing well but if she dies I will truly regret it, and if I don't do this job I will regret it, probably fall into a depressive episode, will lose weight (which has been an issue and I'm finally a healthy weight now), and I won't be able to go anywhere because I'm not allowed to drive the car except to run errands for my parents. Additionally, my sibling just graduated grad school and my mother is wanting them to come home too even though they're in the process of starting their life in another state as well... My sibling coming back to our home state is a whole 'nother story with countless issues that I don't want to get into.
All in all, what should I do? I don't think she's going to die, but I don't want her to get sicker worrying about me. But I need the freedom to workout, work a job to be productive, to not fall into another depressive episode, and to experience life in a state I've been wanting to go to ever since I was a kid. But I also do care about my mother and she's worked so hard to provide for me and my sibling and I don't want to be selfish. But for how long will I be stuck at home during the summer, not having any freedom, before I become a real adult and have to live my own life? I just want to experience things while I'm still young but I also don't want to lose my mother. I may be overreacting with how bad her health is but she never asks me to stay home, but I've always been home for the summer.
Any advice?

So late last year I bought some new years event party tickets for a club about an hour away from where I live. This girl who I was seeing for a few months (who I also now despise) wanted to go so that’s why I bought them. I paid extra for “skip the line” tickets. When we arrive at the club on New Year’s Eve, we get there about an hour late around 10:30 (my dates fault, not mine) and there was a huge unmanaged crowd outside of people trying to get in. I look towards one of the bouncers and say that I bought the premium tickets and to let us in. He basically tells us that we needed to wait in a line to get in LOL.
I, nor my date wasn’t having that as we waited for 30 mins with no movement whatsoever. It’s now 11pm and my date is getting upset and asks if we could go to another club. I try to tell her that it’s not realistic to find another club in less than an hour, nor for me to just drop another $100 on a club entrance fee on top of already paying $50 in gas just to get here. We end up finding a dive bar for the drop but my date was being super whiny and acting like a child the whole time when I was trying to make the best of the situation.
During the hour drive back to my house at 1-2 am, my date is hysterically crying in my car, like actually balling her eyes out. I was legitimately afraid someone would’ve thought I had beat her if they pulled up next to us. She had complained how she spent $150 on her outfit and that no one got to see it. Meanwhile that’s how much I spent just to get there not to mention my whole fit easily costing me 10x as much as her’s.
We ended things the next morning after she demanded that I take her to the aquarium that’s in the same city as the club we couldn’t get in from as a “consolation”. I told her that I would like to go with her sometime soon, but not the very next day after I just drove 2 hours round trip and that it was expensive. She got visibly upset at this.
After I dropped off Ms. Entitled I went and filed a dispute with my credit card company about not having my tickets honored that night. Well today, after 5 months of fighting with my credit card company, they denied my claim due to “lack of evidence” even though I showed the instagram Page of the promoters before and after the event showing that they deleted the promo as people were in the comments complaining about the club not honoring their tickets and clearly overbooking.
So now I have to eat that $90 charge
TLDR: bought premium club tickets for this past new years only for them to not to be honored and my credit card company denying my charge dispute causing me to lose $90
Edit: if you’re curious, my Christmas present was supposed to be “head at that end of the night” which I already knew wasn’t going to happen lmfao. This is why I’m hard pressed to do anything special for women nowadays

A while ago I reliazed that I'm commiting the sin of gluttony so I watched videos on YouTube about gluttony to help overcome it and those videos said I need self control which is a fruit of the spirit so I decided to put restrictions on myself and tried to eat less and even then I still over ate so I put more restrictions after watching some YouTube videos and now I try to eat less but even though I'm not eating much I feel nausea after eating even though my belly doesn't feel bloated and I don't feel like I overate, so I feel really bad and then I start to question my salvation and whether I'm even a real disciple of Jesus even though I know I can't work for my salvation but it really scares me and makes me feel like I'm going to be told ( depart from me matthew chapter 7 verse 23). And I would eat and tell myself i can finish this and I would feel like a voice in my head is telling me to stop and I would not listen and then I would feel bad after eating because I ignored the voice because I would tell myself what if I ignored the Holy Spirit. I decided now to just wait until my stomach growls to eat but I don't know if it makes noise because of gas, water or hunger so I feel bad when I go and eat anything because I remember (God is so Faithful to us romans chapter 3 verse 3-4) and here I am over eating. I prayed to God to help me get overcome it and I know I shouldn't rush God but I just really want to overcome this sin, can anyone please give me advice?

Machaon woke up, another day under the dimly lit, haze choked skies of his home world of Barbarus. As always, he got dressed, had a meager breakfast, put on his gas mask and ventured out into the toxic air to check on his crops. His father had spent a long time trying to create a strain of their main food crop so that it could resist the toxic environment of the upper levels of Barbarus, and allow more food to be grown. His father always said that they were “working today so others can eat tomorrow.” Unfortunately, his father passed away many years ago, but Machaon continued his work in earnest, doing his best to accomplish his father’s dream.. And based on the growing stalks of healthy looking crops, he had succeeded. He performed a more thorough inspection on the stems and leaves of the budding vegetables, and wrote down everything he saw in his journal. Years of his family’s work finally come to fruition.
Next on his to do list was to check the herbal garden his mother had grown. He had taken care of it when his mother was unable to, due to a debilitating sickness. The garden had a few different varieties of medical herbs, including hawthorn, lavender, aloe, and peppermint along with a mix of herbs for cooking. He checked the stems and leaves of the plants, making sure all of them were healthy, once more writing his findings in his journal. Confident all his plants were healthy, he closed his notebook and made his way to the local herbalist he was being mentored by. Machaon had spent time with a local herbalist to try and learn how to make herbal remedies to cure his mother’s sickness, and the older gentlemen needed help with certain things around his house. In exchange for his expertise, Machaon provided some of his own herbs and some extra food since the older gentleman had trouble growing enough food to feed himself.
Machaon knocked on the door, hearing a gas mask sealing and a cantankerous older gentleman call out “I don’t appreciate interruptions to my work! Best be something important!” A few seconds later, the herbalist came to the door wearing a load of protective equipment, something that seemed a little out of place for an herbalist, swinging it open. “What do ya wan — oh hey kid, come on in.” The old man opened the door, hobbling back into his abode.
Machaon walked in, taking a look around the place. It was a mess like it always was, but the old man did have his own system of organization. Calling it a system of organization was a stretch, but Machaon couldn't convince him to change his ways, so he gave up on convincing him and focused on his herbalist and apothecary training. Pushing that thought from his mind, he put on his herbalist protective gear and got ready to start the day’s training regiment. The old man looked at him, smiling “You ready kid?”
Machaon looked at his journal, stocked with papers and writings, now old and worn. He was in his thirties now, and most people he knew and cared for had passed on. His mother died not too long after he finally made a chemical resistant strain of crops, and his herbalist mentor had passed a few years after, finally having accomplished his life goal. Wiping a tear from his eye, Machaon wiped a tear from his eye, closed his journal and went on his usual ritual of checking on his plants and documenting strange things. Once he finished, he changed into his apothecary attire and shouldered his backpack full of supplies. His apothecary goal was to keep tackling the disease outbreak that had popped up nearby. A village a few days ago in the valley east of his abode had sent missives asking for medical aid, as a small portion of their population had been confined to their homes with fevers and coughs, with the occasional victim with boils on the skin. He had been working to quell it these last few days, but he was not sure if he was going to be able to completely stop it before it spread outside his control. Unfortunately, he would never be able to find out. As he began to take care of his ill patients in the sick house, he heard the sounds of a ship outside, and the clanking of boots. Something was up, and he was certainly not about to surrender his patients to whatever was outside.
Machaon walked outside, a simple pistol holstered on his hip. He may be an apothecary, but he could deal just as much hurt as he could heal. And he certainly wasn't going to run away when he had people in his stead, people that could spread infection and kill even more people. However, he soon found that his pistol would do nothing against the new arrivals. A military officer of some kind, along with some soldiers had formed up outside the sick house, the officer wearing what seemed to be an imperial army officers uniform, a green patch with three green skulls on the shoulder. The officer approached him, and began to read from a data slate. “Apothecary Machaon Strakos, on the order of Primarch Mortarion, daughter of the Emperor of Mankind, head of the Death Guard Adeptus Astartes legion, you are to be transferred to the Endurance, the Primarch flagship, for apothecary duty. You have one hour to gather your belongings.”
Machaon tried to protest, “With all due respect sir, I have patients to take care of, otherwise they’ll die.”
The Imperial Army officer looked at him with disdain. “If you do not comply peacefully, I will be forced to make you comply.” The soldiers next to him aimed their lasguns at him at the same time, their faces cold and icy.
Machaon knew that his ‘forced compliance’ would hurt his patients more than him leaving peacefully. “As you wish, officer. I will collect my supplies and return shortly.” He then returned to the interior of the sick house, gathering all his supplies into his backpack, along with the seeds for his plants. He didnt want to leave his people, but he didnt have much of a choice. A young girl who was laying on a cot by the door asked him, “Mister, where are you going?”
He wanted to tell her the truth, but he knew that wouldn't help. So he did the next best thing he could do, and he kneeled down next to her cot. “Well young lady, I’m going to take care of another group of people who need my help. There’s a lot of them, and the man outside needs my help to do it. I know you all are in good hands, so I’m going to save the people who aren’t in good hands. Feel better young lady.” He said, giving her a flower from his garden as he stood up and left. He didn't really believe what he said, at least not entirely. He would be helping people, but not the way he wanted, not on his own terms. Nevertheless, he would do his duty to his planet and his people.
Machaon walked outside the sick house and found the officer. “Officer, I’m ready.”
The Imperial Army officer looked at him coldly. “Then get on. We must reach the ship before the fleet takes off for the next expedition.” He and his soldiers then got on Stormhawk, and Machaon made sure to follow close behind them. The doors shut, and the engines roared to life, taking the ship off the ground and into space. Shortly after, they arrived in the hangar of the Endurance, and the Imperial Army company that escorted him departed, and Machaon followed quickly, not wanting to be left in the huge ship.
When he stepped out of the Stormhawk, he saw a virtual city of people working, repairing and refueling ships, unloading cargo, and new recruits moving deeper into the ship. It was certainly more people than he had ever seen in his life, but it did not phase him. He knew that whatever they were calling him for would have been big, especially if it was being led by a daughter of the Emperor. He followed the Imperial Army officer further into the ship, until they arrived at the barracks section of the ship. The Imperial officer told him simply “These are your quarters. Find a bunk.” Then he left.
Machaon was not particularly impressed with the lodging, but decided it was better to secure a spot rather than leaving it to chance. Once he found a spot, he laid down his items that were not essential to his duties as an apothecary, kept whatever else he had on his and tried to make his way to the apothecary chamber. Having no idea where everything was, he asked directions, and eventually after nearly an hour, found his way to the apothecary chamber and began to set out his equipment and find a place to grow his herbs. He knew he would need them for the battles ahead,wherever they may be.