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@itsbenedict​ replied: this is a phenomenon that drives me to bestial, murderous rage

When I went in for lunch shift the next morning, the fly had evolved overnight into a wasp. Fortunately, I only ever saw it once, out by the soda machine.

Six days later, I found a very dead wasp curled up next to a heating element. Until next time, then.


#(posted this too soon‚ sorry about that) #bugs #replies #oh look an update #unsanitary cw #death tw? #in which Brin has a job #trying to keep this lighthearted in keeping with the original joke

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Amass Fuck-You Money

Goals: amass fuckyou money

Forever reblog the mother goddess

(status: I acknowledge that this is psychological damage from an extended period of financial hardship during formative years, but I nonetheless mostly endorse it)

Hmm. I seem to be having a bunch of thoughts and feelings about this.

There seems to be a…maybe “divide” is too strong a word, I don’t know. But…like, I called it “fuck-you money vs fuck-me money” in a post a while back. Even when the actions are the same, there’s this psychological difference in how people can approach it.

When I see FIRE people, they always frame it in terms of *freedom*. (It’s right there in the acronym: Financially *Independent*, Retiring Early.) But to me, it strikes me as being a thing about *safety*. “Enough money that you can run your household solely off the interest from your investments” can protect you from a lot of different problems, and *that’s* why the idea appeals to me.

A few weeks ago I saw some distant acquaintance-of-an-acquaintance on Tumblr (I don’t recall who) advising a young person with a high-paying job and relatively low expenses (Silicon Valley programmer, I think, or something like that) to go on some trips and enjoy themself, because they weren’t going to have this much disposable income again until their forties if not later. And it felt like a very weird framing to me, because…the way I see it, if future-me doesn’t have money to spare, then neither do I. I don’t have spare money unless I can afford to feed myself, and I can’t truly afford to feed myself unless I can afford to feed *all* of my selves.

16-year-old me got to eat because 7-year-old me’s dad put away some “”extra””, and eventually that “”extra”” was all he had left. Where is 33-year-old me getting *her* food from?

Because if the source isn’t me, then I don’t trust it to come through for her. I want to do all I can to make sure that, no matter who is or is not willing to employ her or for how much, 33-year-old me (and 44-year-old me, and 55-year-old me…) is fed and housed and so forth.

(This was going to be a tag ramble, but then I thought it should probably stay with the post if somebody reblogs it to respond or something. I’m just going to leave it in tag format.)

#this post probably partly inspired by my first anniversary of non-freelance employment   #which is coming up soon   #I think I will celebrate by scheduling the dental checkup I have been putting off for ~3 years because I didn’t feel I could afford it   #(yes government healthcare does not cover dental)   #(OHIP has some very weird-looking exceptions)   #(this is probably the result of some kind of complicated political negotiation that I’m not sure I want to know the details of)   #anyway a dental checkup seems like a good compromise between celebratory and practical   #(and [practical celebrations are easier to enjoy]/[I find myself drawn to practical gifts these days anyway including gifts I buy for myself])   #((that safety thing manifests here especially))   #((the things I dream of buying these days are always things that protect you from something))   #((checkups that protect you from tooth damage and electric cars that protect you from rising oil prices and solar-powered phone chargers that protect you from power outages))   #((this I am much less sure I endorse))   #((I mean I think it is good to want practical things but it would also probably be good if I felt safe enough to want a few non-practical things too))   #(((sometimes on especially bad brain days I can’t even bring myself to play Flight Rising)))   #(((that is currently the most common cause of my FR hiatuses)))   #(((it used to be the most common cause was that I felt like playing some other game instead)))

#I will put this in the tags though: #I was reading my Tumblr archive recently and *damn* 2014!me was having a hard time #she didn’t talk about it much in public but occasionally she couldn’t quite hold it in anymore and it leaked out into a post #I felt very sorry for her #basically what I’m saying is #hi 2022!me #I hope you’re in a good enough position that you can feel sorry for me rather than going ”yeah I still know that feel” #(but if so please do still provide for farther-future!us) #(just with a healthier frame of mind) #(maybe buy solar chargers *and* video games)

Hi, 2018!me.

I won’t lie to you: I do still know that feel. Things haven’t really changed much for us financially: still a slow bleeding kept at bay by unpredictable one-time cash infusions, still with a-home-in-good-repair being a cherished but distant dream. Still taking some gigs at $1.30/hour, though only the especially easy ones now. We graduated last year, and the diploma’s been *exactly* as much of a waste of time and resources as we feared it would be, though I have not quite lost hope altogether. I have made only $309 in deposits to my retirement fund, in the time since I was you.

Financially, we still don’t have the stability and security that we long for.

*Non*-financially, though, our position has improved. We’ve made new friends, and even mostly managed to keep the old, and (in addition to the non-practicality-related aspects) they’ve taught us (and we them) many useful things. I’m in better shape now: not *great* shape, but on a good day I can run for half an hour straight (almost two miles!), and even on moderately bad days I can do twenty minutes. I still work at the restaurant, but I’m allowed to mask at work now (I know, right, we thought that would *never* happen, didn’t even dare hope for it), and we were–by, admittedly, a terrifyingly narrow margin–not fucked over by the travesty that set the precedent that workplaces allow employees to mask.

(If this were two-way communication, I’d have opened with advice on getting higher-grade and more durable masks while they’re still easy to come by, so that the margin won’t be so terrifyingly narrow. But it isn’t, and I will have to content myself with knowing that it worked out for us in the end.)

(It didn’t work out, for a lot of people. A lot of people, in a lot of ways, are worse off now than they were in 2018. I do not live in as flourishing a world as we would hope.

But we, personally, were fortunate in this regard: we rose through the cracks of the problems that hit everyone, and that actually ended up counteracting a lot of the problems that were specific to us. It’s where most of the one-time cash infusions came from; it’s why I haven’t been sick–not *really* sick, not anything bad enough to make me wish I were unconscious–in over three and a half of the four years that separate us.)

((common-cold-induced depression isn’t normal, BTW. you know that weird non-depressive cold we had in December of 2017? yeah, that’s just what colds are like for normal people. sure does explain a lot about why people are Like That.))

Anyway. Our safety hasn’t improved as much as we were hoping, but it *has* improved. We’ve been through storms, but we’ve weathered them. (I even successfully handled not having a functioning toilet for five days! I’d prepared a contingency plan for that, and it paid off!)

The Ontarian government has announced plans to start covering dental care in a couple of years (a long enough delay that I’ve decided it’s still worth paying for a checkup this year, though I may skip next year). Our parents’ pensions will start trickling in next year, with the bigger ones starting in 2025. I still have a couple more ideas for how to break into an accounting career, and I still have the option of changing tacks and making a living in an unrelated field.

In the time since I was you, I have bought both a solar panel and a video game.

One way or another, we’ll get through this.

Remember, I love you.


#reply via reblog #oh look an update #adventures in human capitalism #adventures in University Land #in which Brin has a job #101 Uses for Infrastructureless Computers #covid19 #illness tw #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what #venting cw? #bragging cw? #kind of both


Not fucking worth it: the insane shit this guy does to be his own boss and not have a 9-5 sounds way worse than just having a job


#yes this #it’s so weird to me how many people I meet who think that the two kinds of people are #”entrepreneurs” #and ”people who *want* to be entrepreneurs but don’t currently have enough runway/seed-capital” #like yes unalienated labour is more pleasant #and in theory yes it’s true that deviating from your work schedule is its own punishment and #it would be nice not to have the double jeopardy of absences being punished by your boss also #but in practice it seems like most entrepreneurial stuff leaves you *more* trapped by work strictures than having a job does #the owner of the place I work at is on call ~14 hours a day 7 days a week #constantly juggling several different stores #can’t ever gracefully pause or exit #you theoretically *could* pay me enough to take his place #but it would have to be much more than any reasonable estimate of how much he’s actually making #I think that (for me anyway) the real difference here in life satisfaction is not ”employee” versus ”entrepreneur” #it’s about how many obligations you’ve taken on #doesn’t matter whether it’s to your boss or your customers or your workers‚ you’re still trapped #when I play at business-running in MMOs‚ I am always very careful *never* to take long-term contracts #I warn people that I do not promise availability further than 3 days out #some players do! apparently that can be fun for them! but *I’d* be miserable #I love and crave stability‚ which is a big part of why I never promise it if I can avoid it #precommitments aren’t helpful to me here #if future-me deems something important enough to be worth breaking routine for‚ then I trust her judgment #and I want her to have that option for when it’s needed #tag rambles #in which Brin has a job





The trick is to not let people know how really weird you are until it’s too late for them to back out.

Absolutely the frak not, the trick is to immediately let people know how weird you are so you scare off the weak ones. The ones who stay because they like how weird you are? Those are the ones you want.

Post 1: workplace

Post 2: everywhere else

… you know what, codicil accepted


#yeah pretty much #(me showing up to a job interview last summer in a dry-clean-only dress‚ a purse‚ and a university-branded cloth mask: #hello yes I am a perfectly normal member of the office-worker class in the year 2021) #((fortunately I don’t think I’ll ever have to go *quite* that far again)) #((we have a pack of KF94s now‚ which can pass for normie while offering much better protection)) #((Good Manner: for the normie in *your* life)) #in which Brin has a job #clothing #recs


Then began the elaborations upon the theme. Phrases hummed too slow, with long pauses in between, so that the listener’s mind helplessly waits and waits for the next note, the next phrase. And then, when that next phrase comes, it is so out of key, so unbelievably awfully out of key, not just out of key for the previous phrases but sung at a pitch which does not correspond to any key, that you would have to believe this person had spent hours deliberately practicing their humming just to acquire such perfect anti-pitch.

It bears the same semblance to music as the awful dead voice of a Dementor bears to human speech.

And this horrible, horrible humming is impossible to ignore. It is similar to a known lullaby, but it departs from that pattern unpredictably. It sets up expectations and then violates them, never in any constant pattern that would permit the humming to fade into the background. The listener’s brain cannot prevent itself from expecting the anti-musical phrases to complete, nor prevent itself from noticing the surprises.

The only possible explanation for how this mode of humming came to exist is that it was deliberately designed by some unspeakably cruel genius who woke up one day, feeling bored with ordinary torture, who decided to handicap himself and find out whether he could break someone’s sanity just by humming at them.




these motherfuckers have to take these songs and “make them their own”, put their own special goddamn english on the ball, and the only way they can think to do this is by changing EVERY OTHER GODFORSAKEN NOTE into some horrible warbling yodel to show off their vocal range! bastards reluctantly dip their toes back into the original melody just long enough to remind you what song you’re listening to, before zooming STRAIGHT back to their amateur opera tryouts!

When I first read this post, I thought you were exaggerating.

“It’s not *that* bad,” I thought. “Like, yeah I’ve been nonconsensually exposed to dozens of hours of Christmas music at work over the last month, and it’s repetitive and imbalanced (it took dozens of hours! for me to hear *one* ‘Hark, the Herald Angels Sing’!), but it’s generally not especially out of tune–”

–and then I went to the bank today and holy *shit* I know *exactly* what you mean. Oh my *god*, I never thought I would be *grateful* for CHYM FM, Kitchener’s Christmas Music Mix®, but at least we’re not playing whatever the fuck the bank is on.


Oh, so *that’s* who the all-Christmas-all-the-time stations are aimed at? All this time I’ve been wondering why society keeps doing it, given that I have heard many complaints and zero praise for the practice.

(…do your parents also actively prefer that Daylight Savings Time changeovers exist? That’s another thing in the same category.)

(I still think CHYM should do for Christmas what they did for Halloween: mix a few holiday songs into the normal rotation for the day itself and a couple days beforehand. They *could* even do it for several weeks beforehand, if they insisted on keeping that aspect.)


#Christmas #music #reply via reblog #venting #in which Brin has a job

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one the one hand, washing my hands after moisturizing them kinda defeats the point

on the other hand, I need to use my computer. I’m not gooping my computer

Three useful tactics:

1. Moisturise in tiny amounts (so that it’s pretty much all been absorbed by the time you reach your computer), making up for it in frequency.

2. Moisturise at bedtime.

3. Wear gloves over the top. (Also combines well with 2, to avoid gooping your bedding.)

unfortunately there is no tininess of amount that will make my fingertips not feel goopy. if somebody else wanted to rub the moisturizer into the tops of my hands it wouldn’t matter because I wouldn’t have to touch my keys with it

I am extremely weird about hand cleanliness with my stuff and basically only my stuff. I don’t care much normally but if you are using my keyboard, controller, or guitar, you gotta wash them grubby little mitts

I can rub it into the backs of my palms without using my fingertips, by rubbing them together, but I can’t really get the backs and sides of my fingers well done, which is historically a problem area

I technically can use the computer with gloves on, and I have done it in cold weather, but I feel so much less competent at typing and mousing that I really avoid it when possible

I do moisturize before going to sleep and wear gloves over it, but since I prefer to do so after I finish reading on my phone, and I’m often very sleepy by that point, it’s less than maximally reliable

the best solution to this problem is to adequately humidify my environment such that I don’t need to moisturize at all, but until I get the right quantity and quality of humidifiers sorted moisturize I must, and deal with some level of goopiness I must also

the best time slot for moisturization I’ve found for me personally is before going for a walk, as I usually wear gloves anyway and don’t use my hands much

>>unfortunately there is no tininess of amount that will make my fingertips not feel goopy

I do hear some brands absorb a lot slower than others, so it’s possible switching brands would help. I’m currently experimenting with Live Clean’s “intense moisture” lotion and finding it decent. (A bit of poking at Amazon suggests that Live Clean *exists* in America but might be harder to find there?)

>>I technically can use the computer with gloves on, and I have done it in cold weather, but I feel so much less competent at typing and mousing that I really avoid it when possible

Same, TBH. Apparently it works well for some people, though, and sometimes I’m desperate enough to do it myself.

>>the best solution to this problem is to adequately humidify my environment such that I don’t need to moisturize at all

I run a humidifier in my bedroom overnight, and if I’m not working food service I generally find that moisturising once a day is enough (with larger quantities in winter). But I *am* working food service, so I need to break out the big guns in order to get anywhere near keeping up.


#reply via reblog #in which Brin has a job

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The most popularly mentioned symptom of hypersensitivity is thinking or feeling that things are polluted when they aren’t.  But it’s not the only one.  Many hypersensitives also have “obstructed melioration”, where – especially if something is actually polluted or actually has something on it – they are so paralyzed by their feelings of disgust that they can’t take actions to clean.

You can be diagnosed with some forms of hypersensitivity even if you never make a mistake on a test of pollution identification.  If you can’t touch the dishes so you can’t wash the dishes; if you can’t stand the smell of dust so you never jack up the couch to sweep it up; if something spilled in your fridge last month and you haven’t been able to open it since then even though it was only ketchup at the time, so now it’s a mold ecosystem you’d need to go after with bleach?  If you have a meltdown every time you visit the bathroom and spend two hours sitting there panicking and procrastinating on cleaning up because that would mean thinking about it?  If you can’t wash your hands because you’d notice the slightly less clean water rinsing off them?  If you haven’t shampooed in six weeks because whenever you wash your hair it accumulates in the drain catch and then you’d have to pick it out?  If you have any trouble explaining what needs doing to a professional cleaner because the words taste bad?  Then you’re (insofar as you can be diagnosed online) hypersensitive.

If something is so gross that you can’t clean it – not because there aren’t enough gloves and masks and chemicals, just because you can’t stand to think about it that hard, engage with the existence of a mess that needs to be cleaned up – then that’s hypersensitivity, and it’s a disability.

Anyway, how do you all feel about cleaning reds?

#unreality cw? #yet also‚ at the same time‚ very true #I think about this post every fucking time I flinch away from cleaning my fridge #(today’s reblog brought to you by my brother finally throwing out the ~month-old corn that was‚ in his words‚ “no longer yellow”) #(I soaked the bowl with lots of soap for a day or so and managed to clean it after that) #(…now I just need to clean the *other* moldy food container‚ currently sitting beside the sink with its lid on) #(……maybe I will wash the other dishes first)


About twelve days later, my brother came home with a takeout container from his workplace. He mentioned he was planning to recycle it once he was done with it, because “we already have enough containers”.

I proposed that we instead recycle the moldy one and wash the new one, and everyone with a stake in the matter agreed. (That is to say, I did not bother to ask Dad because I knew he wouldn’t care.)

All’s well that ends well.

(In my defence, I’ve been covering a *lot* of shifts at work the past few weeks (especially those couple weeks), and had a lot less time and skin-HP [link] for dishwashing than usual. At no point during those twelve days was I caught up on all other dishes.)


#oh look an update #reply via reblog #(ish) #in which Brin has a food poisoning phobia #domesticity #in which Brin has a job #food #unsanitary cw #Amenta RP #unreality cw?



I worked at a McDonald’s as a cashier in high school and it was during a time when they changed their POS system (point of sale, not piece of shit) so everything was now in a slightly different, less logical place, but I was working 20ish hours a week so I picked it up really quickly

Anyway I was out with my friend in the next town over and we went to a McDonald’s because she really wanted an ice tea and we go through the drive through. The man greets us out of the little speaker and asks for our order and she says “Hi! Could I get a large sweet ice tea please?”


Longer silence.

And I knew in my heart what was happening.

So I leaned over and said, “It’s on page two of drinks, under juice, then the third one down.”

Another much shorter silence.


“What the – how the hell did… Uh. I mean. Thank you?”

And it’s been literally ten years but I’m still riding the high from that.

Ninety percent of most magic consists of knowing one extra fact.

-Terry Pratchett


#I wonder if this is gonna be me someday #storytime #in which Brin has a job




#speaking as someone who has worked in fast food for ~3.5 years now: #I’ve never seen anyone get into a *physical* altercation over who gets the warm altruistic fuzzies(?) of paying for the food #but I *have* seen people argue for several minutes about it #(they did this in between telling us what toppings they wanted on their large order so it wasn’t like things came to a standstill) #(I feel like the longest *standstill* I’ve witnessed for this is maybe somewhere between 0.5 – 1 minutes) #comics #art #in which Brin has a job #food mention

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“When I put it on before work (so, more time-sensitive than the previous occasions), I *felt* like this time there was a little bit of leakage at the top of my nose, yet it still passed the plug-the-exhalation-valve test. Nocebo?“

I’ve had this apparently phantom sensation of air flow over the nose while still passing seal tests as well. ¯\_(ᐛ)_/¯ 

“Most importantly, I need to practice attaching the filters and making sure I can properly click them into place, because one of them fucking *fell off mid-task*.“

The filters don’t click into place, they’re twist-lock. This particular model of respirator, in my experience, has particularity tight connections, so I’d recommend installing them while not wearing it. It seems to me implausible that they would fall off if properly twisted into place, without simply ripping the rest of the filter from the plastic coupling.

>>they’re twist-lock

That’s what I meant, yeah.

>>It seems to me implausible that they would fall off if properly twisted into place

Yeah, I’m assuming it was some sort of newbie mistake, since there’s no way it’s even *remotely* normal for them to fall off during use. People trust their lives to these things in situations where one minute of masklessness will fuck you the hell up *even if you’re lucky*.

(I called it a “live-fire exercise”, but that was somewhat of an exaggeration: it’s more like an exercise where 99% of darts are blank and 1% contain *some* poison but not enough for a single dart to poison you. It’s just that there are a lot of darts flying around in a crowded restaurant, and you don’t know which ones are which.)


#reply via reblog #covid19 #illness tw #in which Brin has a job

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