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aelinschild · 6 months

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First Sight, New Ground

Valencia - Test

Main Masterlist | DART Masterlist | Team Livery

Well, well, well. This is something I'm very excited to share! I'm quite the fan of MotoGP, so this is my attempt at mashing my interest together. (And mourning Jorge Martin's loss of the '23 season 🥲). I really hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!

SYNOPSIS: Drama. Speed. Nepotism. Aelin is thrust into the everchanging spectacle that is the 2023 MotoGP season. And as the new Marketing Manager, she struggles to rein in the two riders she's responsible for, one more than the other. And Rowan Whitethorn is always up for a new challenge. WORDCOUNT: 4.7k GENERAL WARNINGS: Swearing, Alcohol and addiction, Mental health struggles, Cheating, Verbal abuse and messed up family dynamics, Crashes, Severe Injuries, Minor Character Death(s), Silly Stupid Rowan, more to be added

AN: There's a lot going on in this chapter- I apologize! It's very world-buildy, but we are diving head first into drama very soon...

Remelle: The MotoGP 2023 Season Begins; Switch up’s all across the grid are causing teams to already struggle to mesh out differences. Let’s hope this season will see less dramatics than last year…

Rolfe: …And Pre-Season begins! Welcome back to the track, and welcome to the very exciting – or what I'm hoping will be – 2023 MotoGP season!

Mort: My sentiments exactly, Rolfe. And welcome back everyone. It's great to see all the spirit online and worldwide. I can feel the excitement in Valencia this weekend! But I must say, starting this year off with a bang–there’s already drama!

This was certainly not Aelin's typical work environment. Or her typical job, for that matter.

Standing at the large pane window of one of Ducati Valencia’s Offices, she looks out at the lively city. A far cry from her view two months ago at the HSBC headquarters in London. A far cry from anything relatively normal, really. Her foothold here was a new development. Since, in a matter of months, she had lost the renowned career that she had dreamed of. Had scrapped and fought for. She lost her corner office, with the view of London's city lights. She had lost her ample paycheck. And, as she thinks, she had lost her dignity along the way as well.

By no means was this a personal decision. HSBC hadn't been doing well into its fourth quarter, and cuts had to be made. That was understandable enough. What wasn't? Aelin being cut. The clean-cut of the crisp letter on her mahogany desk on a very bitter morning. It had been clear that she wasn't even important enough to require a meeting. Not even important enough for a goodbye.

Not only had the loss of her career brought forth the aforementioned reality, but it had drastically changed her relationship with her dear father. The one and only, Rhoe Galathynius. The oil tycoon, who had a greater love for wealth than his own kin. The man who claimed to work himself to the bone, but only came up for air after getting a papercut from counting his cash.

After being cast off from HSBC – as if she hadn't been there for five years, running errands and fixing copiers, to being the Senior Head of Marketing for their English branch – she was left with no job. And as an Oxford graduate, no less.

And as if the humiliation of her new reality hadn't been enough, a local paper had picked up the story. The Galathynius golden child loses out! She could still see the sickeningly dark ink–burned into her retinas.

But the shame didn't end there, why would it? No, of course not. Aelin’s lesson was far from being over, even if she hadn't had anything to do with her subsequent layoff. And as it happened, that paper had made it onto Rhoe’s desk one morning. The artfully woven piece, carefully balancing the general hatred for the Galathynius name and attack on Aelin’s character; there for his consumption. The paging to her father's manor in Hertfordshire shouldn't have been as surprising as it was. And the gloomy English weather punctuated her doom. Each droplet on the windshield startled her out of any possible chance to imagine other possibilities. Each drop fell solidly, slowly making its path before being swept up by the windshield wipers, cast off the rounded glass. Like an incessant insect.

The indignity continued when Aelin had to explain to Rhoe why she was laid off. Why it was her fault. Why the company wanted her gone. Rhoe Galathynius was loyal – to name only. Anything done on her part to convince the bastard of a man that it was simply a company-wide layoff, inevitable really, resulted in at least fifteen minutes of lecturing and berating. He took her loss as a failure on his part. His child-rearing skills were not satisfactory, and now he had to account for his twenty-six-year-old fuck-up.

Aelin wondered if her humiliation could have been any worse had she kneeled at his feet and begged for forgiveness.

Regardless, Aelin had nothing to say for herself. She was laid off, a disappointment to the family name, and had no prospects. Where would she go now? Back to her flat, most likely. To soothe the ache over with some expensive red wine, and maybe sob.

Rhoe Galathynius left her with nothing but a crippling feeling of guilt. Effortless anxiety. She felt her failure weigh her down even further into the mud her four-inch heels sunk into. Her driver was sympathetic at least, solely because she had told him to wait outside, knowing it would be a short trip. And so with nothing to think about but how her ribs felt like they were pressing into her lungs, squeezing them, suffocating her from the inside out, Aelin let the rainy drive – and subsequent two months – wash over her like a balm.

That was, until, she got a call from Rhoe again, beckoning her back to Hertfordshire. And after two months of complete silence on his part; no comments on the paper’s reaction to her job loss – which was so unnecessary, she’s glad it was now mostly forgotten. She had shown up, without a crimp in her clothes, skin looking refreshed. As if the days had been spent relaxing, not withering. Arriving at the manor, Aelin found herself nervous. Not knowing what she was walking into.

And she could’ve known, had she just read the papers she so diligently avoided. She could’ve seen that her ever-avaricious Father had purchased the title sponsor for the Italian motorcycling team. Had – in the last two months – plastered the gaudy yellow ‘Galathynius’ name all over the cherry red bikes and helmets. All over gear and t-shirts. He had procured a job for her, and he spat that at her as if she was a burden. As if he didn't take on the cumbersome task of purchasing a world-renowned racing team.

Ducati. Ducati Galathynius Racing. Rhoe Galathynius was now the proud sponsor of his own MotoGP team, one of the most successful in recent years too. How did he do it? Had Aelin read the papers…

Remelle: Can Ducati Bounce Back After Sam Cortland; Recently, Ducati’s older sponsor ‘Lenovo’ pulled out. However, it only became public at the end of the 2022 season. Many have raised eyebrows, citing that their exit was because of the passing of Ducati rider Sam Cortland at the Valencia GP last year. The catastrophic crash, killing the gifted rider moments before he would have won the ‘22 title…

Seated on a plush leather swivel chair, Aelin picked at her cuticles. Peeling back dry skin that burned when washed with the expensive soap at the Ducati Headquarters in Valencia. The silence of the room was punctuated every few seconds when the toe of her stiletto would tap the glossy floors. A meaningless rhythm. Tap, tap-tap. Tap, tap-tap.

The opening of the door stunned Aelin out of her reverie. Standing from her seat, she was faced with Rhoe and Rourke Farran, Team Principal for Ducati. They were mid-conversation, and though it stalled as they entered, Farran felt no need to soften his words.

“Ah, Miss Galathynius, yes, welcome. Lovely. We’ll just be waiting on the rest of management before we can get started.” He trailed off, wandering to the head seat of the long conference room table. Rhoe stood near the door, a pensive look in his eye and a familiar rigidity in his frame. Aelin took it as her cue to take a seat.

As Farran settled himself, Rhoe picked up where they had left off, paying no heed to his daughter's presence. And if he was miffed that Farran took the head seat, he didn't show it. Aelin sat two seats away from Farran, on his left. Rhoe took the right.

“And you can guarantee me the support of your riders? I’ve heard that they can be difficult…” Rhoe continued. His beady eyes, surrounded by weathered skin. His once luminous hair, clipped short to cover spots where it wouldn't regrow. He looked old. He looked worn down and easily breakable. But assuming that was a definite mistake. His age had nothing to do with his cunning, or viciousness.

“Whitethorn and Westfall will give you no trouble. They want results. If you can provide that, they’ll be happy boys.” Farran scoffed. Tension palpable.

Aelin folded her hands over each other in her lap. Sitting with her back straight and shoulders pushed back, she was the picture of poised elegance. Her hair was slicked back into a professional high bun, her makeup light. She would make no mistakes today, lest she trash her second chance.

“Good,” Rhoe says as the door opens, and in filters other team managers and top engineers. All here for the pre-season testing. Pre-season testing, which Aelin would be studying. So as to learn how the team worked together, noting what worked and what wouldn't, because she would be managing the appearances now. Because this board room, the racetrack outside, the bright red ‘Ducati’ shirts– This was her life now.

“Let us get started, shall we?”

Mort: Well, would you look at that! All those guys…

Rolfe: Haha, don't they look happy—the pre-season media obligations. Let me tell you, Mort, am I ever happy I’m not one of those poor guys right now…

Mort: No doubt! The theatrics this year certainly are something else. Though the fans love it. And I’m not going to lie, Rolfe, I do enjoy the candid interviews! They’re just so awkward…

Rolfe: It's almost like they’ve never made friends…

The noise was giving her a headache.

The amount of people was obnoxious, and this wasn't even everyone. Ducati alone had over one hundred employees working to keep two overgrown men on bikes happy and successful. If you had asked twenty-year-old Aelin where she would be, especially when she was knee-deep in homework in Oxford's libraries, she would have never said a racetrack. Though it's funny how things work out…

After the tense meeting, where Farran practically bulldozed anyone with an opposing opinion, and Rhoe had scared the shit out of every employee who didn't have a contract, Aelin could help but wonder what she was getting herself into. Granted, she had no second option. It was this, or execution, probably. Who knows what Rhoe would have done had she said no. But, she did walk out with a collared shirt that she would be responsible for wearing whenever she was on the job.

It was a starchy cotton, with red stripes down the sleeves and her name embroidered onto the left breast. She mourned the outfits that would never see the light of day. Somehow, though, she would make this work.

She always did.

She was not used to this type of… excitement. Working in an office for the past few years left a mark on her. She did not feel ready to step out in front of the entire Ducati team, much less coordinate all their actions for the next year. She had already been handed a hefty guidebook that outlined her priorities and responsibilities going forward. Press conferences, media attractions, and managing the two esteemed riders.

The riders; Chaol Westfall and Rowan Whitethorn. Champions in their own rights. One familiar to the team, one not. Which was another slight bump in Aelin’s job. Making Rowan’s transition from Honda a smooth one.

Rowan Whitethorn was an enigma. The four-time world champion was in dire need of something. Something that Honda hadn't been providing, hence the switch. Now the grumbly Scot is raining all over Ducati’s fine machinery. Having not won a world title since 2019, everyone in the paddock whispers about his retirement. However, the talented twenty-eight-year-old is far from retirement in Ducati’s eyes. And hopefully, he’s prepared to win this season.

She had been briefed on him more than Choal; and that man's subsequent charm. But Rowan was quite the opposite. Determined, steadfast, and stoic. He was a legend of a rider. Loyal to the asphalt beneath him and the bike that makes him fly. With one goal in mind, one that hadn't changed in his decade of racing.

This all made Aelin uncomfortable. She was not made to deal with people like this, so up close. She was no race enthusiast, hell, she hadn't known that motorcycle racing was this extravagant prior to her job now. The few times Rhoe had taken her to Silverstone were solely to watch the Formula One races, and those were merely background noise to the fact that she was outside of Rhoe’s manor. So navigating around this new terrain was going to be a struggle. One that most likely started with joining in on the festivities happening on the track.

Remelle: Ducati Debutes The New Sponsor; The bright yellow appearing on Ducati’s bikes this season isn't only a shock to the eyes, but it's a shock to the motorcycle world. It seems like the English Businessman Rhoe Galathynius was tired of oil fields and wanted his name on something new.

Measured steps led Aelin to where the entirety of the paddock was accumulated. Racers, team managers, engineers and more were milling about. It was an explosion of colour, everyone suited in their team's shirts, sporting their pride.

Aelin assumed that the riders were the ones milling further down the track. Stood under the lights, beyond where the crowd was thickest. Scanning the area, she spotted at least seven photographers. She’d have to enquire about the pictures they were taking and where they would be going. She made another mental note about that. And about setting a to-do list.

Still walking, Aelin scanned the crowd one final time before spotting Farran. He was just a little away from the greater congregation, stood next to another man. Farran had changed since she saw him in the meeting. He was in his red Ducati shirt, a large lanyard hanging from his neck. Next to him was a blonde man of similar height, who looked to be speaking very quickly to Farran. His arms flailed as he spoke, but the gestures didn't look excited. Rather, he wore a mean scowl and an orange and white Honda shirt. Ioan Jayne, she assumed. Aelin was briefed on him, head of Repsol Honda and nemesis of Farran. Or that was what she had gathered when reading Farran’s history with the man.

The two men seemed to lean into a conversation with each other, but the animosity was visible from where Aelin stood. Staring openly, she watched as they were all but at each other's throats. Before Jayne threw his hands up and stalked away, leaving Farran. Signing, Aelin made her way over to Farran for what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation.

“Farran. Good to see a familiar face.” She was lying through her teeth. She had known this man for a few hours and had a weird feeling about him already.

“Miss Galathynius-” He started, puffing his chest out a little and giving her an indecipherable look.

“Aelin works. If you prefer.” She interrupted.

“Aelin then.” Another smile, she felt goosebumps on her skin. There is something wrong with this man. She thought to herself, all while keeping up her artfully crafted facade of professionalism; smiling and nodding. “Right, well this will all be very new to you, but all the boys are just getting reacquainted now. There are some newcomers, not for us of course,” he laughed. “Unless we're counting Whitethorn. But he’s been around the track so they’ll all be sizing him up for this season.”

He continued on, rambling about each of the guy’s weaknesses as if he had explored them himself. She wouldn't be surprised if he had.

“I'll need you to organize some press things in the coming days. Photos, social media, interviews, all that bullshit that makes the fans wild.” He said more seriously. Turning to face Aelin directly. “Your father made a deal with me, and a part of that deal would be your success in this position.” Aelin was rooted to her spot, Farran’s dark eyes boring into her directly. Like he could see the part of herself that failed. “I will not have anything but excellence. Not from you, from my riders, from my team. See to it.”

“Of course,” Aelin mumbled, twisting her hands. Taking a step back, Farran's eyes continued to follow her, still shrouded in some weird look, before a chipper voice broke the tension.

“Farran!” A voice called out, the rough English accent undecipherable to Aelin. Both of them turned to see the newcomers. Aelin swallowed when their gazes broke.

Two men were approaching; Chaol and Rowan, she assumed. Going off the cherry red shirts each had on, and the confidence in their gaits. Something that could only be achieved by a world-class motorcycle rider. The brunette – Chaol – was walking ahead of Rowan, who didn't seem as pleased as his teammate to see their team principal. As they approached, Aelin realized that they were significantly more handsome than the pictures from online. Both of them looking more like models than the insane idiots the media made them out to be. The blonde one was devastating. Rowan. Who’s face was set in a scowl-like look, obviously not pleased with the current state of affairs.

“Chaol, how are you doing today mate?” Farran said as he went in for one of those man-hugs with the rider. They both slapped each other's backs a few times before releasing to stand a fair distance apart. Rowan didn't come any closer, he just nodded when Farran’s gaze swept over him.

“Not bad. Saw Havilliards bike for this season,” He sucked on his bottom teeth, eyes roving over Aelin. “Might have to find a reason to be in their garage for something, you know?” The brunette rocked back on his heels, crossing his arms and shifting around. He’s ansty for something.

Farran gave a contemplative noise, before gesturing to Aelin. “I want you to meet your new marketing manager. She’s your boss on all accounts for this season. Whatever Miss Aelin here says, goes.” Both Rowan and Chaol were staring at her now too, and Aelin felt a little overwhelmed under this much attention. She could see the curiosity on Chaol’s face, but Rowan didn't give anything away. If anything, she was a little miffed by his lack of response – to anything thus far. That would be something she’d have to work on.

“Lovely to meet the two of you,” Reaching out, she held her hand out for Chaol. He grasped hers firmly, and she shook once before retracting quickly. He was handsome, that much was for sure, but he was also… peculiar. She wasn't sure. But when she leaned over to Rowan, she realized she liked Chaol significantly more.

Rowan looked down at Aelin’s outstretched hand, a tense moment passed where she waited for him to do something. Finally, just when she was going to step back and accept defeat from the seemingly sullen man, he shook her hand.

He had a firm hold, and the calluses on his hand scraped over hers and a way that sent shivers up her back. Pulling away abruptly, Aelin could feel Farran and Choal’s eyes on her. Rowan did not react to her retreat, and she was thankful for that because she did not want to think about how it felt to have his large hand in hers.

Farran continued, prattling about race-related subjects, but Aelin was not focusing on him anymore. No, she was too busy trying to ignore Rowan’s green-eyed stare on her.

The greetings on the track had ended after what felt like far too much time, and Aelin was grateful to be able to rush off away from where she felt like she was being undressed by the Scot’s eyes. Taking a moment in a deserted hallway to practice her breathing, before she was back in the garage with the rest of the team to watch the new bikes get their lap times in.

Standing near the back of the garage, Aelin watched as Rowan raced. The cameras around the track followed his bike as he artfully wove through corners. Screens below had engineers monitoring, and she watched as the speed went up, up, up. Hitting nearly three hundred kilometres on the straights, her eyes never left the screen.

His lithe body was clad in the classic Ducati red. And the leather suit – that looked extremely restrictive while the riders walked – had never looked so flexible. Every movement was intentional, each millisecond that passed was a decision made. He was an expert in the sport, and the bike seemed like an extension of him. Each corner had him nearly kissing the ground, his protective knee pads made exactly for this reason.

Everyone in the garage had their eyes either glued to the screen or a computer. These moments, testing out the Desmosedici GP23, were exceptionally imperative to the success of the team this season. Rowan’s custom bike, improved specifically for his body and riding style, was faring well. But the garage still held their breath. The bike was only a prototype, while it was modelled after last year and Ducati had the privilege of being a factory team, any issue would set the current progress back exponentially.

As Rowan leaned into turn fourteen, Farran seemed pleased. He took his diligent stare away from the TV and moved to where Chaol stood at the mouth of the garage. Leaning in close so the other rider could hear, Farran must have instructed Chaol that it was his turn now. As the roar of Rowan’s bike grew in sound, Chaol situated himself, and some of the team members gave his bike a push, and he was off. Just in time for Rowan to park where he once was.

The Scot turned the bike off and was quick to pull his helmet off. Revealing his sweat-mussed hair and the bandage on the bridge of his nose.

Farran was ready with questions and was firing them at a pace that Rowan evidently wasn't fond of. He swung his leg over the bike and made his way to the dedicated corner for the riders. Ignoring Farran, he sat down on his chair and turned to where the screen was displaying Choal.

Reaching for the Gatorade bottle and taking a long drink of whatever was in it, Rowan decided to grace the garage with his feedback. Swivelling to face Farran at his right, “Ye gonna pay attention to yer other guy?” Going back for another swig, he unzipped the top half of his suit. Leaning back and spreading his legs out, his eyes went back to the screen.

What a team player, Aelin snorted. Drawing the attention of a dark-haired engineer. The woman studied Aelin for a moment, before making a sour face and turning away. Wonderful, She thought. Making friends already.

Noticeably irked, Farran continued to push. “What do you think of the bike?” The room held its breath while Pretty Princess thought over the question. This was crucial. Chaol had been at Ducati for years, he knew the engines, and he knew the machinery. He knew they were winners–or had been at some point. But Rowan? He was going to be the defining factor of the teams’ success this season.

“I could feel the engine–rumblin’. Powerful. It’s good, aye?” He nodded to himself, pleased with his response. The brunette woman next to Aelin stepped forward.

“So no changes, right? You’ll be good to ride in Argentina on it?” She was assertive in her question. Her eyes focused directly on where Rowan was seated. She watched the rise and fall of his bare chest. Noticing the ink of a tattoo near his left pec. Shamelessly, as everyone waited for his response, Aelin traced the lines of his body. His long legs stretched out in front of him, the jawline that left her breathless, and his hair–Gods his hair. It was unfair how gorgeous men’s hair could be. The droplets of sweat collecting at his hairline, that would parade down his face to his jaw. Where they would fall the strong column of his neck. I need to get laid. Aelin looked back to where the engineer was waiting and took notice of the headphones around her neck.

“I'll be ready to win, if that’s what yer asking.”

Aelin had left late.

After four days of watching, planning, organizing, and anxiously overworking herself over upcoming media obligations, the time in Valencia was up. She had spent four days in a completely unfamiliar environment, around people who knew what they were doing. She could feel the imposter syndrome creeping up on her. But after it all, seeing the twelve guys who would be putting their lives on the line for a title and gaining no ground with either of the riders she was responsible for, she was ready for a break. She had relinquished, and gone to the inaugural party. What a mistake.

Now, rushing from her hotel room this morning, and fighting off a killer hangover, she had quite literally thrown everything she had brought with her to Valencia in her pink suitcase before zipping it closed – catching her nice blouse on the zipper – and rushing to her Uber. It was a close call, and her driver had made sure to scold her for her tardiness before they were promptly speeding to the airport.

In the backseat of the car, she had attempted some light makeup to try and erase the undereye bags. It didn't do much, but it was an effort. Her hair was a challenge she would not even begin to tackle. Sex-mussed and arguably better suited for a family of birds, it would remain in the worst high-bun the world had ever seen.

All of this was fine. She was fine.

And she was calm. Especially while hightailing it through the airport to her private gate so she wouldn't miss the jet her father had specifically arranged for her after he had left on the first day. What a committed sponsor.

“Earth to Aeeeeee!” Lysandra sang from the other end of the phone currently glued to the side of Aelins face. They had been talking–Lys had been talking, and Aelin had been breathing so loudly she could barely hear her best friends quips about her evening and the party. The party. Aelin was so fucked.

“I'm here- just keep… talking,” She puffed. Catching one of the screens and looking for her gate number.

“No. I want you to talk.” She could hear Lysandra’s pout. “This party? What really happened?”

“Nothi-”

“Lies! I saw Aedion’s story, and you were definitely getting cozy in a corner with a certain somebody,” She pressed. Aelin knew it was going to be a challenge to get out of this one. “Tell me or I will find out. You know me…” She let the threat hang in the air.

Aelin knew better than to leave Lys to her own devices. “Okay,” Huffing and puffing as her gate got closer and closer. “It was just a one-time thing! Nothing ser-”

“Ae! Tell me, godsdamn!” She interrupted. “I just want to know, pleasee!” Whining, Aelin prayed for something to prevent what would happen next.

Sighing, “It was-”

And as if the Gods decided to give Aelin one little win this morning, the attendant was at her gate and had recognized the sprinting woman. She moved to open the door to the stairs for Aelin to get to her jet. Motioning to Aelin to hang up her call, she gave the attendant the brightest smile–probably looking insane.

“Oh no! I'm at my gate, I have to go Lys! I call you in a few hours, okay, love you!” And she hung up. Breathing in, out, and one more for good measure. She slipped her phone into her purse and handed her carry-on to the attendant whose arm was outstretched.

“Welcome Miss Galathynius. Let’s get you to Argentina, yes?”

Taglist: @backtobl4ck , @goddess-aelin

Thank you for reading :))))

#DART #rowaelin #throne of glass #aelinschild #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin x rowan #rowaelin au #aelin fireheart #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #throne of glass fanfiction #rowan x aelin

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millenniumdueled · 11 months

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hey I know there's already so many posts going around d asking for help so I feel really disgusting doing this again, I feel like I don't deserve it when other people are suffering too but im

drowning

I had to call in to work Wednesday and call our emoloyee help line because I was feeling so suicidal over financial stress and now I'm once again unable to stop crying. I just got the paycheck that I was leeching off of during my time off and

I can't afford to pay my rent. I'm $200 short even after taking my savings down to the minimum of $300 I have to maintain to not get charged a fee. I have less than $2 in my emergency checking.

I don't really expect anyone to help. it's my own fault for using time off work as an excuse to go to the bar one night and to eat out twice and I knew damn well I had no business doing either of them I just got caught up wanting to go out since my mental health has been really, really bad and I've been really, painfully unhappy every single day. I hadn't gone out since emo night in February and I don't know how to make irl friends without going places that cost money. I'm so lonely and depressed I just really wanted a chance to make a friend and get to spend time with someone in person again. and I did, I had a great night and played pool and made a friend and we're planning to meet up again but

it feels so much like it wasn't worth it and I knew I didn't deserve to go out and have that fun and I did it anyway

I'm rambling but owning my own mistakes and actions is important to me. I want to be honest that I didn't get fucked over with bills, I did something stupid and selfish and ungrateful and spent almost $100 during a week off work just for funsies. it's why I hate hate hate HATE myself for having to ask for help. I should have to suffer the consequences of my actions so I don't do it again

I have a hair appointment this month I'm already going to have to cancel because I can't afford it. and that's fine, even though it means risking being blacklisted by the only hair salon I've ever not been disappointed or traumatized by

but with student loan repayment starting up again very soon, I can't. empty my savings. I can't lose my entire next paycheck transferring it early to pay my rent.

I can't take any commissions. I have one big one I've been putting off since January bc I'm scared of starting it and it never being good enough. I've been working on another "simple" commission for a month. I don't want to make promises that I can't keep. maybe in the future I can take some more, but I'm not even entertaining the option until I finish what I started.

my pay pal is @MRheuble and venmo is @jupitertrash, or I have tips set up on my personal blog

#ooc #signal boost #I'm sorry #I feel so disgusting doing this AGAIN #I used to be so fucking responsible #just last year I was saving money like crazy #this fucking car payment is going to kill me #thats #not even hyperbole #this really feels like its going to be the last year of my life #suicide mention //

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justyouraveragepoketherapist · 5 months

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Big OOC post, not meant to be hateful or some ish, you can delete if you want instead of posting.

I actually think what you're doing is a great thing. I do believe the Dedenne The Kidd seems to lack the experience necessary to understand why this isn't going to affect people in a negative way.

Mental health professionals aren't just therapists or psychiatrists. Mental health professionals can also be volunteers who aren't held back by certain policies an otherwise normal therapist would be subject to. This does not mean they're allowed to violate the HIPAA policies (i think i messed the acronym up, apologies) of the people they talk to, but it does mean they are allowed to find different ways to help the people on their case load. These in the Mental health field, are often regarded as peer support or parasupport professionals. They're like mentors but with more wiggle room as to what they can do with the people they see.

I don't think DTK is understanding as well, real therapists can charge well over half a months rent for just the INTRODUCTORY appointment. Alot of people can't afford that, and that's where volunteers come in.

I showed my therapist who works directly with my state everything you do. I explained to her what rotomblr was and she was ECSTATIC at the possibility of more people being open to being therapists when the time is needed for them. She also said that nothing you really do due to the anonymous nature of tumblr actually violates anything, but it might if you were an actual therapist under a company or private whatever, but because people are openly coming to you anonymously, you aren't violating anything and nobody is gonna smear your name if you actually choose to be a real therapist in the future outside of rotomblr, due to you not really breaking any known policies my therapist personally has to deal with or any ones in the past before.

Outside of that, the fact you could "possibly cause harm to others" is not true unless you actually are causing harm to others, because you are actually attempting to help in the way you know how. While they feel it can cause harm to others, I feel like what they're talking about is stuff like betterhelp and others, which have been notoriously known to harm their patients more than help. You are a real person behind the character, not someone doing this for a quick paycheck. You of course, are gonna do your best where those who do it for a paycheck fail.

//Tysm for your kind and thoughtful words! It is just roleplay, so I hope that we are all good. I am a psychology major, and this is just a passion of mine, roleplaying as a therapist on Tumblr. I realize that this is not meant to be actual advice, but I do try to keep my responses to people's requests as realistic as possible. I just do this for fun, but it also is good for my own mental health! It feels good to be helping people like this, even if it is not real. <333

#pokemon #pokemon rp #rotomblr #pokeblog rp #pkmn rp #pokemon irl #pkmn irl #rotumblr #pokeblog irl #pokeblogging #//ooc post #//some excellent points here!#//this is very kind of you actually...

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brain-bumbler · 11 months

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hey. hey. you know that one au you did? where dion got a job in the mailroom? think about it again. think about its wonder and greatness. and gimme deets 🤲

oh that is my greatest work ever. i will forever have so much to say about it.

Dion starts out not enjoying the job or looking forward to it, just doing it since his mom won't stop talking about how proud she is of Raz and Frazie, and he needs something to do to fill the hours. Plus a paycheck is nice.

But despite his reservations, the minute Raz walks into the mailroom Dion has his feet up on the table smirking like his swivel chair is a throne. Big brother instinct to show no weakness.

Raz is torn because this is sort of his brother making an effort to ger more involved in psychic stuff. He genuinely wants Dion to do better and learn to cope with the changes in their family.

But also, he's ten. The Psychonauts is HIS thing in his head. He wants Frazie to join him because she was his secret psychic buddy that he probably trauma bonded with and he wants to heal the divide between them. I think it'd be normal for him to not be 100% stoked about it. Like oh great, maybe the mailroom is where evil villains are made and Dion's gonna decide to turn to the dark side.

At first Dion is jumpy and standoffish with people. But luckily he unlocks the pure dopamine of sorting objects for his repressed adhd-autism brain. He completely zones out during his shift and then snaps back an hour after closing time when the packages stop coming. Holy shit stacking boxes of different sizes into cubes like tetris and then sorting them based on color, he's not showing it but his brain is just enjoying it So Damn Much.

He gets so hyperfocused that he forgets to slack off and act superior and grumpy. He clears out the blacklog in 3 days and then designs a new sorting system. It needs revisions but that just means more stacking and sorting fuck yeah!

Gisu was expecting him to skip work to come see her but he's in the ZONE and its hard to break him away from it. But after awhile it is easier to leave because he needs variety in his day, which makes flipping across the Motherlobe and finding new ways to deliver mail great.

He makes up challenges for himself. Can he sneak packages to people from the vents like a spy, something he'd never admit to thinking was cool? Can he do deliveries while playing "the ground is lava" in his head?

Also he keeps writing letters to Gisu that have to be "hand delivered" so they can meet up. Hollis lets it slip since he solved their budget crisis by discovering Nick was stealing money, and Dion is insanely effective at his work. If only she could get him to wear anything business casual.

Dion's biggest bad habit is skipping meals. He doesn't like eating in the Noodle Bowl without someone he knows, it makes him nervous. So if he doesn't bring lunch he ends up skipping it, or even if he dues he just throws it away without telling anyone.

He makes the mailroom the most popular part of the Motherlobe tour by putting on an acrobatics performance that enthralls all the visitors. Maybe he slips out some pamphlets for the Aquato circus, it never hurts to advertise!

Having the alone time and investing in something not related to his family is really good for his personal mental health and boundaries.

#psychonauts 2 #psychonauts #ask bumble #dion aquato #dion's mailroom au #Gonna think of a snappy title for it #dion's mailroom debut #hmmm needs work #thank you for the ask i love this au i wanna talk about it more

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lunarsilkscreen · 6 months

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Why did I leave the military

In 2010, the repeal of don't ask don't tell happened, which was a landslide victory for gay men. But for Queer people in general? Iffy ground.

For the entirety of my existence I knew what I was, am, are. But gender confirming social policy and social stigma means you can't talk about it. Like the first two rules of Fight Club.

It exists, but you don't talk about it. Because quote: "It's morally and objectively wrong to wear clothes of the opposite gender."

That's the Line you can't cross. And yes, this includes Kilts if you're outside of the Ireland/Scotland area.

So if you're further than that on the queer spectrum, you look ambiguous, people confuse you for another gender, or they just can't tell. That is a moral and personal failing. One corrected through Hairstyles, clothing, and gendered perfume flavours.

So if you're a genetic men and other men are confusing you for a women, and other (maybe sapphic) women want to date you. They can't acknowledge that.

Just "Oh, we can't do that thing at all".

But the talk will go on behind your back regardless.

Some people look like me are upset because they aren't seen as the Pinnacle of masculinity. A trait I also shared, but not really cause it felt good mind you. I wanted to be a women. Right? At the very least, I was OK with ambiguity.

"so why the F*? Would you join the military if it would put you in the box?"

Oh you know, GI. Jane, the existence of the "Tom Boy". Video Games.

Plus I had a lot of reasons I couldn't continue staying where I had grown up, or with my family, or even continue going to college the first time around despite having qualified for the MEAP{ Michigan Educational Assessment Program } which awarded money to kids just out of high school for excelling at a test that summed up the entire school education.

Quick Google search says it's the "M-STEP" now. I dunno how many other students qualified. I just know I qualified for that *on top* of tuition incentive program.

To which people understandable ask what happened?

It was going great, but I had no way to practice for driving test to get out there. Had a friend, friend promised would help me. Which made me start the aid process. But that process had a two year limit on it.

That two year limit on it, along with no driver's license along with unstable home life, along with losing that friendship, because her words; "you're a bum". Along with whatever other list of grievances she had with me. Meant I lost that second year of aid. Gone. I need to stop trusting people.

So unstable home life, depression, definitely queer, definitely no friends. A friend of mine was joining the Air Force. And I thought "F* it, YOLO".

The complex reasons? That instability. That lack of future. The paycheck. And the possibility that I *might* be able to pursue my dreams that way.

So why the F* would I leave that behind?

In the Air Force, we're taught to lead from the front. I dunno if that's the same way in other branches, I assume it is.

At that time I was falling apart mentally, the only thing keeping me going was this knowledge that life sucked on the outside, and there was, and still is nothing out here for me. I re-enlisted for a little while, got to do a desk job with a lot of programming. But I was still falling apart mentally.

And when I went to pursue the reasons why, There still wasn't anything that I could do about it. Just me, and deteriorating mental health. And being Vaguely Queer, but not really getting along with other queer people cuz the community sucks. (most communities suck, but the gatekeeping in the queer community is something else man.)

And then, the cherry on top was the Executive Order by President Trump that trans people should be banned from serving in the military.

Many queer people accuse me of this being the only reason for it. F* them. You know why? Gatekeeping.

Excuse me for leaving on my integrity.

I could've stayed just a few more months until the end of my enlistment and not had to burn a bridge. But I used my other disability, let's just say arthritis. Because there's a list. As an instant out.

I could've waited and had the same benefits you know.

I could've stayed in and had a fulfilling career. Well, maybe. There was talk of a thing I was supposed to be up for. But it wasn't real until the moment I left. It wouldn't have stopped me from leaving either way.

But it was; A presidential declaration that the My (and by extension the Military's) Mental Health did not matter in the slightest. And the possibility of going back to a Job, Airline Mechanic, on a devasting weapon that had already taken a toll on my mental health.

And I couldn't deal with both of those possibilities.

So I saved what I could in order to bide my time for a job.

And everybody that I could've relied on back home. In any facet, I ended up being unable to rely on them, and with declining mental health that also didn't matter to them; made a string of decisions that put me in a bind.

And with no friends, and no backup, and relatively no voice.

I decided to protest the U.S. government. And Trump himself for being a megaphone for the Evangelicalsm that hated me. Made my family reluctant to support me. And just overall being Dick's.

Because, unlike those actually in the "queer community" I took a risk.

One that friends and family took advantage of.

I would say "calculated" but I knew what the ultimate price would be. Because I know how people act. I know how jealous and hateful and spiteful they are.

And they haven't proven me wrong yet.

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trekraider · 1 month

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So. Work has been concerningly quiet for the last month, and it sounds like we're getting ready to start the renovation on the facility pretty soon. Which means I'm in a fun position of finding out my hours are going to become limited. I'm going to be forced from full-time into part-time, with no actual guarantee of how many hours I'll be able to work in a week. Which has me anxious and terrified. Because I'm obviously someone who loves change.

Luckily in December, I started working on some backup finance plans which has gone well. If I do end up losing out on my usual paycheck, I would at least have more time to devote to OF and working on my jewelry business with the hopes of being able to vend at markets. Having time available to create things would be tremendous for me and my mental health. It would also be a stepping stone to me being able to leave Houston and do what I do from anywhere I want.

I've been saying for months at this point that if this job doesn't work out, I think I'm just done with the funeral industry. And maybe Texas tbh. I don't know exactly what I could do instead, but my two current side hustles are a great start. And I've been putting a lot of work into online Community Management and Moderation, which I could turn into another gig.

I think I've felt the writing on the wall for a while now, so I'm glad I immediately started making preparations instead of just waiting to see what might happen. But it sounds like things are going to be kind of tough for a while going forward.

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restforthe-burdenedsoul · 10 months

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It has been a hot minute since I posted anything. I feel like I blinked and almost an entire month passed me by.

M and I moved into his friend/ex’s house. That’s been an adjustment and I’m definitely finding myself triggered a lot. Her relationship with her wife is rough. I’m still waiting on my first check to see what we’ll be making and if this is the right choice after all.

The job is going alright. I’m trying to be patient and wait and see what it’s like. This is only my second week and while I don’t find the job to be hard (at least not once I get more familiar with medical terms), it’s again nothing I am passionate about.

I think the money is gonna be great. They hired me at the highest they are able to pay me, meaning I have the higher end of experience they were requiring. I’ve been in training all this week for their documentation and kind of about my role. There’s not a ton to feel excited about.

My hospital (they have a ton of them) has a psych unit that I’m trying to shadow/train on. My boss said she would see if that can happen. Even then tho, I’m not getting to do any kind of psych support.

I think the paycheck will motivate me to keep pushing through and maybe the lack of satisfaction will push me through the rest of grad school.

I think at this point I’ve had enough experience to see that my passion really lies in the mental health side of social work and I can’t give up here. Hopefully this will serve as another stepping stone to make connections to slip into a job I want. There’s tons of mental health support roles at the hospital, I’m just not credentialed for them at this moment.

However, I did slip in through the back door with this one with my BSW. I’ve yet to meet another. Everyone else is MSW or LCSW. (There’s a couple things I can’t do at the job because I don’t have my masters). But maybe I’ll get lucky and be considered for another role in the future.

For now, I’m trying to be open with M about my feelings with work and our living situation. I’m feeling overall positive, just needing to make time to process my thoughts and feelings again.

#bsw #marriedlifewithm #CMSW

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starkid256 · 10 months

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can i rant about how bad 2023 is for me rq?

ok so in the first couple of months of 2023 i was doing great. new year new me amiright. i was chillin on the crk wiki n shit and i wasnt doing very well in school but what can you do the us education system is flawed and nothing can fix it. i made a contest for people to draw strawberry crepe cuz that was the rage and all. once the deadline hit, i was ready to make the prizes.

i hit the biggest fucking roadblock in my life.

i just got hit with the worst burnout and depression i have ever had in my life. it took 11-12 days to write something with 1k words. this depression is still there. it pains me to even attempt to draw or write or anything. whatever, depression like this is very common. eventually, i moved on from the crk wiki and went to comic studio.

oh. comic studio. where do i begin?

to start off, if you dont already know, comic studio is a website to share comics. shocker i know. i met some friends on here from there. some of my moots i met from cs. and yet, it was the worst thing that ever happened to me. there was drama left and right, mainly centering some specific sensitive users that ive blocked on here, there were people sending death threats and threatening to kill themselves every day. and i desperately told them that their lives had value. all of this drama and suicide baiting was absolutely murdering my mental health in cold blood, so when i broke my kindle screen, i had an episode where i nearly killed myself. no one saw. not anyone irl, not anyone online except for a friend who didnt take it seriously. i didnt really draw too much attention to it anyways. btw, all of this was happening while my dad ran off with my now stepmom and was dumb enough to put himself into a mentally abusive relationship. my mom, who i live with, hates those two so much. also my stepmom is queerphobic and has internalized conservativity.

i got tumblr as soon as i got my first phone, near the start of june. i love tumblr with all my heart, but it fucking murders your mental health nearly just as bad as cs. i mean, what do you expect from a website that makes you think that all the problems of the world are your fault? i have met great people here, but it still fucking sucks.

the real nail in the coffin was when a user on comic studio (who i have now blocked on tumblr) made a half baked shitty "callout post" on me. i will say, i did do something wrong that i apologized for afterwards, but everything else was past drama that they brought up even though i had already apologized for all of it. i apologized, and decided that i should leave comic studio. and so i did. keep in mind that all of this has been happening while my main family (which means excluding my dad and step mom) lives paycheck to paycheck.

now flash forward to the present. im on my phone for 14 hours a day on average laying on the couch scrolling through tumblr and watching youtube and playing roblox wishing i was dead. i have no one to blame for this behavior but myself. i would hope that the rest of 2023 is ok, but i already know i will have a horrible rest of the year. yeah this was a rly big rant. ily guys and i hope your 2023 was better than mine.

#rant #vent #pls read

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reinathevocaloid · 2 years

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My Thoughts On The Act II Ending

AKA Why art cannot thrive under capitalism

I’ve been a major fan of Daiya No Ace/ Ace of Diamond since 2014, and I will forever be grateful that Terajima has created all of these wonderful characters who I love and cherish very much! This series will always be one of my favorites regardless of whether Terajima continues it in the future or not. Despite being such a long series filled with hundreds of characters, Daiya consistently has excellent writing, and is one of the few stories where I’ve found myself caring about almost all the characters (including the side characters) because they are all written uniquely and realistically. Also, it’s one of the few stories where I’ve legit read everything rather than simply skipping some chapters. But, this is all exactly why the current ending has left me feeling disappointed. So many plot threads have been left hanging, which includes the major ones that many fans have been pointing out: Eijun’s injury and the lack of summer Koshien. But, the biggest one for me is the current relationship limbo between Eijun and Miyuki. Regardless of whether you ship it or not, their relationship is the core of the series. Terajima himself stated that Daiya started because of Eijun meeting Miyuki rather than Eijun’s moving fastball or anything else. With that in mind, it feels incredibly unsatisfying for the story to end with so much left unsaid and so much miscommunication between the two. They both admire and believe in each other (and it consistently baffles me how many fans somehow miss this fact) but they still have no idea. The thing is, I’m sure Terajima is aware of all this. Besides being an excellent writer, he has stated in recent posts that he stopped not because he felt like the story had reached a conclusion but because he felt drained. For 16 years, he has had to consistently churn out chapter after chapter of this series. Combined with how some fans constantly bash on his writing choices, it’s not surprising that he would lose the mental health necessary to continue. And, it just reminds me how messed up our current world is. We all live in societies that teach us that everything NEEDS to have a price. That people won’t do anything if there’s no money involved. This, however, is completely untrue since people worked together for thousands of years before monetary systems were invented. If humans didn’t naturally care about others and about doing things on their own, we wouldn’t be here in the first place because civilizations wouldn’t have developed. Not to mention the sheer amount of fanart, fanfiction, and other free things people create and do simply because they are passionate about something. Most of the best pieces of art were created because the person cared about it rather than because they needed money to survive, which is why swansongs of shows, movies, and games tend to save franchises more than a consistent slog of mediocre titles in order to meet a paycheck. In the end, our current world has brainwashed people into thinking that art is something that has to be CONSUMED. That works of art are created for consumers to purchase, which leads to constant mainstream nonsense that’s made to please everyone and thus doesn’t truly connect or mean anything to anyone (examples of this is the large amount of spaghetti westerns back in the day and the superhero movies that are releasing now). Art should be created so that the artist can express their thoughts, feelings, and stories. This means that if you like that piece of art, that’s great, but that’s not the point. When I encounter a work of art that I don’t like, I’m still glad that it exists because the art will likely connect with someone else. Similarly to how I absolutely love certain shows, movies, and games that others hate, the things I hate are likely loved by someone else, and that’s how it should be. So, when people bash on works of art (like how fans have complained about Terajima’s work) it just demonstrates to me that they see his work as something that is meant to be made specifically for them to consume rather than something Terajima has made for himself. And this thought process is further exasperated by him being forced to create consistently all the time just to ensure that he can continue to survive in this world. If we lived in a world where people could create art without having to worry about making a living or catering to consumer expectations, the art would be richer and more complete. Instead we live in a world where artists are constantly burnt out and left with unfinished pieces that could’ve been so much more. TLDR: I hope that Terajima will continue Daiya one day so that the loose threads could be resolved, but I understand that the immense pressure and mental strain of creating art in our current societies is impossibly unfair. I’m glad we have what we have, and I hope he gets some nice needed rest.

#daiya no ace #ace of diamond #shut up anya #i have no idea if any of this made sense but I had to get my thoughts out there

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american-maryy · 2 years

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The people who's deaths affected me greatly:

- Monty Oum: ive been a huge fan of his since watching Dead Fantasy. The way he animated fight scenes was so unique and exciting. And I loved watching his ddr videos. He was the reason I got to meet some online friends that i still consider to be close. People that loved the things that I loved, people that I could confide in about things that I normally couldn't my irl friends. When he died, it felt so surreal. I remember being in a college class, and not being able to concentrate. My friend, who had talked to him more often than I did, was even more so affected.

- my best friend from college: I remember asking her a question in a biology class, and that essentially put us on the path to becoming good friends. I was with her when she needed an oil change for her first car. Prior to her death, she was supposed to get married. My one regret was allowing my mental health at the time take over to the point I stopped hanging out with friends, including her. I wish I could have been with her for the last time.

- my maternal grandpa: I wont lie.....I wasn't as sad about my grandpa's death initially, but that's mostly because we had never met in person. Our first and last meeting was on Skype, when my family in the Philippines managed to come up with enough money to afford a computer and internet. The moment he saw my face, as well as my mom's, he cried. It had been 20 years since he last saw his daughter, and the first time seeing me. The thing that made me sad about his death was that we would never be able to meet in real life. I've always had.....complicated feelings towards my family (mostly on the paternal side) but with my maternal grandparents, even tho I never really got to grow up with them, I felt.....loved. and cherished by them. When I traveled to the PH for the first time, to view his grave, my maternal grandma treated me with such love and care, that I didn't know how to feel. She didn't judge me, nor looked down on me.....she made me food, and gave me a Lei of sampaguita. She made me feel special. She was like those grandmas you see on TV, who would bake you cookies and sing you a lullaby. I reckoned had my grandpa still lived, he would have done the same.

Chadwick Boseman: this was a death that affected many greatly. His portrayal of Black Panther was unique, and special. He was a strong and diligent leader, but also empathetic and kind. His performance at the end of Civil War, in particular, stuck with me; his speech about Vengeance towards Baron Zemo struck a cord with me.

I remember prior to his death being concerned at how skinny he had become in interviews. People would make fun of him and make jokes that he's doing drugs or something; not realizing he was very, very sick, and growing weaker as the days went by. The day he died, I didn't think I would be affected; but I was. I cried a lot for this man, who kept his illness a secret for so long from the public, just so he can take on a role that would mean so much to many people; especially little boys and girls of color. It hurts to see this man die so soon, someone who was looked up to by so many kids; kids who saw something in him that was also present within them.

Billy Kametz: prior to learning about Billy, I had already unknowingly heard his voice in many anime roles: Josuke, Naofumi, etc., but it was Ferdinand von Aegir in Fire Emblem: Three Houses where I first heard his name. He, alongside the entire voice cast of FE3H, brought a lot of joy and comfort to me during the three years of this pandemic. The game was the 1st game I bought with the last paycheck I got from my job before they laid me off. I spent days upon days playing and replaying that game. There were days when the uncertainty of real life would cause me great distress; but every time I heard the words "I am Ferdinand von Aegir!!" It would make me laugh out loud, and then, it would make me smile. In that moment, i was Ferdinand von Aegir; a noble knight on a horse, proud and strong, and I'd forget a little about how shitty the world has become.

When Billy announced his cancer not too long ago, I immediately thought back to Chadwick; I thought, "oh no. Not again. This can't be happening again." It doesn't help that it was the same type of cancer that took Chadwick. I was scared again. I didn't know these people personally, but i was afraid for him. Watching Billy's video talking about his diagnosis, seeing how skinny he had become in such a short span of months......this world is just too cruel.

Today, I learned on twitter that he passed away. I cried a lot, for a person I never met in person. I have a streamily print featuring Ferdinand and Hubert at tea time, autographed by both Billy and Robbie Daymond. I was hoping one day, once I own my own house with its own reception/living room, I would turn it into a tea or coffee room, and then I would hang that poster up, for all the guests to see. I still plan on doing that someday......but for now, I think I want to hang it up in my room, so that I can remember, that someone so talented and so loved by a wonderful community existed.

FYI, this post doesn't really have.....a specific purpose. With how today went, I just wanted to vent a little. Death is suppose to be a natural part of the circle of life, but it's also the one that hurts most. Once someone is gone, they're gone for good. No more text messages, no more impromptu trips to In-N-Out with them.......family gatherings have an empty void where they once stood. The squeaky toy your favorite pet used to play with, is still stuck under the shed, gathering dust, and cobwebs, and dissolving from the weather. Movies, and shows don't feel, or sound, the same. Weddings, birthday parties, graduations suddenly become a memorial.

Admittedly, it gets better with time; but there will always be moments in our lives, where a memory, or an image of someone we love appears in our minds, and we can't help but break down and cry, even years later. Despite all that, we're forced to wipe our tears and keep moving forward, as best as we can; if not for our sake, then for the people we still have in this world, as well as for the sake of the loved ones we lost, who would have wanted us to keep going.

I don't know how best to end this post except: please, hold your loved ones close.

#monty oum #chadwick boseman #billy kametz #grief #personal #ferdinand von aegir

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aromanticbuck · 2 years

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It’s hell week at work which means I’m working a fifth day. Great for my paycheck, awful for my mental health.

It also means I can’t stay up and watch One Chicago tonight. So I won’t be online after work today. But I’ll try to watch all three shows before start of shift tomorrow so I can come online and talk about the episodes

#alex says things

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travelerswoes · 1 day

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5/24/2024

MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Well… it’s official, I am completely homeless and on my own. How absolutely wonderful (/sarc)

My mother wanted me to talk to my sister about renting the garage from her, which I am supposed to do Sunday but I truly don’t see that playing out well so I am not holding out any hope. I’ll update on this once I know more / actually talk with her.

While I was at work today I booked a room at Motel 6 for a total of three days, which was over $200 which is absolutely insane to me but it is what it is.

It’s a 51 min walk to work, which I am okay with but I was told I should uber to work because it’s “only around $15”, but why would I spend that $15 unnecessarily? The only reason I am even in the Motel Room tonight is because my mom told me to get one, I was 100% prepared to just made due with the field behind work.

I walked to Kroger and got myself a few small things to eat, including these StarKist Lunch to go things. One is just albacore tuna in water and you mix it with the provided mayo and relish and eat it on crackers. I had that one room temperature and it wasn’t bad, but I stuck my second one which is “wild caught light tuna” in the fridge. I also grabbed a pack of nutrigrain bars in the cinnamon apple, I figured these would be good for my day off tomorrow incase I don’t want to walk to the nearby gas station for a microwave meal.

I didn’t expect the room to have a fridge or a microwave lol, so that was a nice surprise. I just don’t have any wifi and the cable isn’t working so I’m probably just gonna use my data for YouTube tomorrow and that’ll be it.

My checkout is Monday at 11am, after that I won’t have any place to go since I am clearly not betting on my sisters being a place that’ll be sustainable for me and my mental health long term. Yes, I’d rather be on the street than live with my sister even if it is just in her garage and I feel like that says something.

Thankfully though I got paid today and I have nearly $1,000 in savings again. Which, is quite a lot for me. I have so much money going to medical bills rn and I also had so much money going to car insurance when I had a car (RIP car) that it was just eating away at my paychecks like nobodies business.

My coworkers who I’ve told about this happening to have also been really helpful with trying to find me a place to stay so hopefully I won’t be without a place long but even if I were to find one it’ll be a bit rough for me for a bit because even though my areas COL is said to be 10% below the national average, the apartment I used to live in when we first moved here was $2,500/month not including utilities and pet rent and I don’t make that much a month. And no, it was NOT a “fancy” apartment by any means.

Tomorrow there is a chance i’ll be heading back to my old place to get more of my stuff out, which would be great because then I can get my other battery pack and a few more of my chargers.

Anyways, I think I’m going to finish this post here!

CW // Drug talk

Putting this here for the people who don’t want to read about drug use, figured this was the best place for it.

I have a tab on me, and I’m going to take it soon. I’m off tomorrow, but I want to be sober during the day just in case. It’s a felony to have it on me so it’s better if I just get rid of it somehow incase for whatever reason police decide to search my bags one day so I want it off of me ASAP but I don’t want to just throw it away.

I’ll make a trip report if anything interesting happens :3

#homeless #homelessness #cw vague drug talk #minors dni #minors do not interact #not safe for minors #minors will be blocked #houselessness #houseless

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coughsyrups · 10 months

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there are so many thoughts stirring in my head and now that i’ve sat down to start spewing them out i’m overwhelmed by the magnitude and stuck, like i’m trying to squeeze chunks of my emotions through a hole big enough to fit one at a time, but easily blocked by many. i can’t say everything i want to say all at once. i backtrack, and repeat myself, and wander aimlessly around what i want to say like a fool.

i think i’m going crazy.

getting better is never linear. life imitates art imitates life imitates poetry; which is art, which, naturally, imitates life. don’t romanticize your suffering, because pain isn’t necessarily beautiful, and just because you can find beauty in your sorrow doesn’t mean you needed to suffer. just because you put your vase back together with golden glue doesn’t mean it never broke in the first place. being fragile and pretty and traumatized is not cool, actually, and i’m sick of the metaphors, and the narrative, and especially the foreshadowing.

i have always read writings written on walls. and i sit down and i write my little songs about it, and when i get hurt inevitably it’s marginally easier because i knew it was going to happen. and i already wrote some four chord ABAB bullshit that i can sing over and over again until i process it by desensitizing myself to the situation. because i have to make everything funny, i have to make everything palatable, i have to make everything art. and i haven’t been creating art lately. god, haven’t i suffered enough? this isn’t the kind of suffering i know how to write about. not having money to eat isn’t something you just slip into the second verse. i’ve tried and tried, and no one ever sees the part where i try except for him. they see me quitting jobs, they see me calling out sick, they see me spending forty bucks on chinese takeout when i have bills and rent and appointments. what about me holding two jobs with 60 hour work weeks, and STILL struggling to save a fucking a dollar? i overwork myself to the point of burnout, and when i get a pitiful fucking nothing paycheck there’s nothing i can really do to hold out any longer mentally. so i quit. so i chase a dollar’s worth of a promotion and jump from job to job, sitting at the lowest rung, looked over and taken advantage of and talked about and misgendered, misgendered, misgendered. i want to hide!! i don’t want to see myself in windows walking from job one to job two, i hate everything about my body, and i use it as an excuse to not correct people using the wrong pronouns for me, which just makes me hate it even fucking more. oh, i understand why people use she/her, my boobs are just so big teehee!! but i don’t get how nobody even fucking tries. i’m not saying i’m some magical perfect person but i make an effort, a conscious, serious effort, to remember people’s pronouns, to ask their pronouns, to properly gender them. the only people who use my pronouns consistently are max and my mom, who are both cisgender. it hurts so bad when my trans friends don’t use my pronouns. you should know more than anyone! how much it sucks! do i have to take hormones? do i have to “dress nonbinary”? i don’t want to change my voice, i don’t want to change my closet, i don’t want to change anything except my chest, and that’s more a health and comfort and weight thing than dysphoria!

if i don’t get this breast reduction, i genuinely feel like i might give up entirely. on everything. on living well. on waking up. because wouldn’t that just be fucking great? the chance to be comfortable in my body for the first time since i was… 14? 15? if this gets ripped away from me i might just run away, i don’t know! i don’t have a cent to my name but i could do it. go home, work a job for a few months. save up a couple hundred. then go no contact with everyone who’s ever known me. buy a plane ticket. move somewhere far, where the cost of living is low, and just restart. i could steal my documents. i could figure something out. craigslist exists, i’m sure someone needs a roommate. would my loved ones try to find me? i’d leave a note, of course. something to say that i’m gone, and that i might come back, but i don’t know when. would they be willing to wait? i don’t know what i’d want them to do. part of me would want to be found, like some princess in a castle, waiting to be rescued and returned to the kingdom. but if i chose to leave, i would want to stay gone. maybe after a few months, i would send a letter. no return address, of course. i don’t want them to think i got murdered.

i don’t want to make people sad. i don’t want people to hate me. i don’t want people to even dislike me. i want to be loved, and make people happy, and be everybody’s best friend who they can talk to about anything. but i’m lonely, and i’ve always been lonely, and i always will be lonely. in every lifetime, every timeline, every minute, i’ve always been a step removed, like the narrator is possessing my body and observing characters in a story. i can see them, and they can see me, and we can talk and have fun, but i’m here to see this story through. i’m here to tell this story. i’m here to check for plot holes and predict the twists nobody sees coming, and then when everything’s over i move on to the next chapter. moving along like everything is fine. that’s just how the story goes, nothing i can do. i am lonely, and this last year and a half has been nice, because i think max is lonely like i am. i think we deal with it in different ways. i think i’m fighting my loneliness, challenging it, trying to change how i’m written, but he handles it so well. he can be alone, not that he always wants to be, but even when he doesn’t want to be alone, i don’t think it drives him half as insane as it drives me.

i want to rip my hair out, or shave it off, or give myself bangs. i want to scream, but everybody wants to scream. i want to drive my car off a bridge. (i want to fly.) i want to float motionless at the bottom of a bathtub. (my hair makes a halo.) and see? there’s the metaphors. there’s the poetry, and the art, and the symbolism, oh the symbolism, because i can’t just process my feelings like normal people do. but this is good, because the alternative to writing this is laying awake thinking this. or, rather, thinking three sentences at once, because of all these voices in my head talking over each other. i’m at the breaking point. i don’t want anyone to help me right now, i don’t want someone on snapchat messaging me “ily! i hope u feel better soon” which is ironic considering how many of those messages i’ve sent to others.

i’m confused. i don’t think i’m scared. but i’m anxious. and i’m frustrated. i don’t know what to do, going forward? i’m not gonna run away to wyoming. i’m not gonna kill myself. i have to keep living. and keep going. i have to prove to myself that things will get better. it’s sunk cost fallacy, i didn’t kill myself at 19 so why should i now? i could’ve then. maybe i should’ve, the only people i would’ve hurt would have been my family. nobody else was close enough to me where they wouldn’t be able to get over it. it’s funny, getting dumped after a month was the end of the world to me back then. like a kid, falling off their bike and skinning their knee, screaming and wailing so hard at the sight of a few drops of blood and some scraped skin that the neighbors come outside to see what’s wrong. the world is ending! but it’s not. you put on a bandaid and move on.

i’ve had worse injuries since then. and even though they hurt just as bad, i learned to push through the pain, to conquer it mentally. i’ve put on a lot of bandaids. but i’m not trying to minimize how it felt in the moment, because it is the worst thing you have yet experienced. and each time you have a worse experience, you’re better equipped to deal with it. even better, when you experience something of equal or lesser trauma, it’s no big deal! you’ve had worse! wayyyy worse. what i’m saying is, how i felt that night in 2019 was valid, because i had never experienced heartbreak before. i didn’t know how to deal with it. i didn’t know i could hurt like that. now i’ve been hurt like that so many times that i can shut it off, deal with it mentally, think it through, push through the pain. and i hope i come to a day when i feel the same way about right now.

i’ve met the love of my life. i’m scheduled for a life changing surgery. i’m finally been living on my own. i have two sweet little kitties. and i’ve been trying hard not to let the negatives outweigh the positives, but that’s not the full picture. i’m not being negative when i say things are bad right now. i’m being honest. things aren’t perfect between max and i. i have this weird sense of jealousy where i think about how i’m the “first partner he’s actually, genuinely loved” and also, the first partner* he hasn’t actually, genuinely fucked. (*a few outlier relationships have been excused from this statement.) and that’s so stupid, right? it’s so shallow. isn’t this what i wanted, something beyond just a sexual agreement between two people who don’t seem to like each other all that much? yes, it is, and i am grateful, i am beyond grateful to love someone who loves me, and cares for me and about me, who i love to spend time with and talk to, who i fall asleep next to. i just get this hangup. why not me? i know the answer. the answer is i’m not pressuring him to do something he doesn’t want to do, and that will never change. i’m not going to guilt trip him into having sex with me, and the thought of ever doing that makes me sick. but i feel odd thinking that there’s other people who have loved him, just like me, that shared this experience with him, and i haven’t. and i don’t know when i will. if i will? i don’t know!

the surgery has me scared. not because it’s a surgery, i’m not scared about complications. but what about the money, how long will i be paying this off for? what if there’s an issue with healing? an infection? breasts become misshapen? bottom out? uneven? i gain more weight and they grow again? as soon as i’m able to i need to work out. i don’t want to have my stomach be larger than my breasts and that’s probably going to be the case after the surgery. i just hope i like the way i look. i know i’ll be more comfortable but i just… i didn’t think this would happen so soon. this happened incredibly fast and i have barely begun to process it. i’m just basically half dissociative every day at this point.

and august is our last month in the apartment, and then we’re moving home. i won’t live with max anymore. i won’t live with the girls anymore. no more late night hot tub, no more queen sized mattress, no one holding me every night. everything’s going to be over. everything that we built here, we’ll try to get a storage unit but what if we can’t, what if we have to get rid of everything? we don’t have a lot of space in our new living situations. it just doesn’t seem fair.

i wish the money from the tax return had been spent wiser. i wish max hadn’t been unemployed for so long. i wish i could work 60 hour weeks without getting burnt out. i wish i made $100 a minute for playing cookie run. wouldn’t that be nice?

and now… the lawsuit. where do i begin? it’s entirely unreal. i thought i felt insane, now i’m starting to think i actually am. this is some serious psychosis, lilia, you should be admitted asap. i want this to happen for him and his family, they deserve it more than anything, i don’t really know… what i’m supposed to say about it though? i don’t want to say anything. i just want to say, cool, you have money now, my shift starts in ten minutes though so i have to go, i’m already late. what does this change? does this change anything? why would it? it’s just money. but then i think about when i was working runrun and the saint, working til 3 in the morning, crying and panicking over being a hundred short for something or other. is that over now? forever? i don’t know how he’s planning on budgeting/using it, i don’t want to say a word of advice to him on it unless he asks me. he doesn’t need unsolicited advice from me. this has been happening his entire life, and i’ve known for like, two days? there’s nothing i can say or suggest that he hasn’t already thought of.

but it’s strange to think about how this has been here the whole time, in the background, beyond my knowledge. never mentioned. never explained. “well i bet you have it figured out by now” no actually! despite how badly i’ve been wanting to snoop or eavesdrop out of curiosity, i have fully respected your wishes to keep this private! all i thought it was was some sort of settling of affairs. how the fuck would i have ever been able to guess a fraction of this situation?

i guess it’s not the worst thing to be blindsided by. at least you don’t have like, a kid, idk. but i hate to say it… if you were hiding this for so long, what else is there? is there anything else you haven’t told me? you’ve never given me a single ghost of a reason not to whole heartedly trust you and believe you’re giving me the full story. until now! that’s what i feel weird about. that’s why i’m kind of upset. what else do i not know about you? i’m pretty sure you know everything about me.

i love you. that hasn’t changed. i’ll always love you. i just don’t know why you let yourself be unemployed for over a month. i don’t understand how you could keep something as crazy as this under the table for our entire relationship. today is actually a year and a half from our first date. a year and a half without a word, except for, “would you be mad if i pulled a crazy rich asians on you?” i guess i should’ve said, no, i would not be mad at all! if you had worked that month, we might not be moving out. or we might still be, i don’t know. i’ll never know, because that’s not what happened.

i’m tired. see, this is how my writing always goes. all deep and flowery and full of metaphorical rambling that doesn’t make sense and is way too self referential and meta. but then the moment i start talking about my relationships i get more direct. and, idk, sassy. and i start saying fuck.

hey. you say you wish i could’ve met your dad almost every time you talk about him. and i’ve never told you this, because i don’t want to sound crazy, but i probably am crazy, and knowing me i’ll show you this some day, or, knowing you, you’ll just find it, so basically, i don’t mind sounding crazy. you wish i could’ve met him, and i wish so as well, but in a way, i feel like i already have. i see him in you, in how you act, and how you talk about him, and the stories, and the rare pictures and videos. when you’re talking about him, i feel like he’s here, next to us. i think we would’ve been friends. i think he would’ve liked my tattoo. i think he would’ve liked my music. i think he would’ve liked my family. he’s your angel, and that sounds silly, and i don’t mean it super literally, nor do i mean it in a cheap psychic way. i think what we put into the world stays there, our love. you have his love. you carry that with you, and i think you also carry his pain, because no one else was there to pick it up for him after he was gone. i don’t know what else to say, just that i’ve always felt connected to him through you. your love for each other is so strong that i can see it today.

pain isn’t beautiful. neither is suffering. it’s a misconception, because what’s really beautiful is perseverance, and strength, and every little good thing in the world. the scar is beautiful, but that wound isn’t. just because the healing was because of the pain, that doesn’t mean the pain was what created the beauty. we shouldn’t need to hurt.

thanks to sunk cost fallacy, i’m going to get better, because i missed my chance to kill myself four years ago, and now i have no choice but to keep living, to keep loving, and to make new reasons to stay alive. the only way out is through, because you can only go forward, and i missed the suicide exit and now i’m stuck on the bridge of recovery.

at least i have a sunpass.

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ourlittledinosaur · 7 years

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3 Family Friendly Ways to be Frugal

New Post has been published on https://www.ourlittledinosaur.com/3-family-friendly-ways-to-be-frugal/

3 Family Friendly Ways to be Frugal

Money, Money, Money!

Some say that money is the root of all evil. Well, actually the Bible says that the LOVE of money is the root of all evil. (1 Timothy 6:10) This simply means that money should not be our idol. It does not mean that we should never think about money or should never have money. In fact, the Bible encourages wisdom when handling our assets, and even talks about wealth as a good thing. It is wise to save money and even to invest it.

Invest? Are You Crazy? I’m in Debt and Living Paycheck to Paycheck!

Ok, so maybe you have some steps in between now and investing. That’s ok. The important thing is to get started! The most important aspect in my opinion is to GET OUT AND STAY OUT of debt. It is the black hole of a healthy financial lifestyle. Also, BUDGET. As Dave Ramsey says, “Every dollar has a name.” I highly recommend Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University (FPU). Not only does it outline simple steps for how to handle your money, but it is a great way for you and your spouse to get on board the same train…the mental train of thought that is!

Healthy Financial Habits are Good for Your Family

You may have heard that 50% of marriages end in divorce. Did you know that a high percentage of those divorces end due primarily to fights over money? Being unified as husband and wife (or Daddy and Mommy, as your kids see you) is so very important for the health of your family. Kids are smart and they see what you argue about. They worry about what you worry about. This Lil’ Dino Mommy tries really hard not to argue or fight with Lil’ Dino Daddy in front of our son…even if he is just a year old. You may be thinking, “Surely, at such a young age, he won’t know.” or “He won’t remember.” Perhaps not, and I hope you’re right about that because I’ve already failed in not losing my temper with my husband in front of him. But there are two reasons why I really want to keep working towards the “Don’t fight in front of your kids” rule.

Perfect Practice Makes Perfect. The behaviors and words we are used to doing and saying on a day to day basis are going to be what our kids see. It’s not like we can flip a switch and suddenly be a different person. Besides, in those moments of anger, we are told not to sin. Feeling angry in and of itself isn’t sinful. It’s how we handle that anger that makes a difference. I want to practice right now, today, the self-control I will need in the future. If my husband and I are in the habit of speaking kindly to one another and dealing with arguments at another time or place, then when push comes to shove (metaphorically, of course!), we will be able to do the same in the future. Besides, we should be dealing with one another kindly whether or not there are little eyes watching. Which brings me to…

Monkey See. Monkey Do. Who hasn’t heard this phrase? I’ll do you one better, who wasn’t told as a kid by some adult, (maybe not your parents, well…maybe them too), “Do as I say, not as I do”? And who, if you were a teenager, didn’t think, “Yeah right!” We are supposed to model for our children the correct ways to behave and to speak. A perfect example of this in my own life was a couple months ago. I was talking to my husband, frustrated about something, but not at him, and I threw down a pair of pants I was folding as I exclaimed about it. My son, 10 months old, said, “Argh!” and threw down his toy. Oh…hold up there Lil’ Dino Mommy, get it together because your BABY boy is watching you oh, so closely. Another example of this is eating healthy. I really want my children to have healthy eating habits. It is something I have really struggled with all my life and I don’t want them to struggle the same way. The BEST way for me to ensure this is to give them the knowledge on what healthy eating looks like AND model that knowledge in our day to day lives. Eating healthy has to be a lifestyle, not merely a New Year’s Resolution or a fad.

Getting to the Point

So, we all need to practice and model good habits for our kiddos. This includes how we handle our money! So here are # Family Friendly Ways to be Frugal! If you can’t do them all right away, don’t worry. Maybe just work on adding one to start. Whether you are in debt and trying to pinch pennies to get out, or trying to reallocate some funds into your current investments, these are all ways to rename some of those dollars. This was definitely a process for Lil’ Dino Daddy and me. I will share the crazy things we do even though some of you may think they are just TOO crazy. Some may not work for everyone, but maybe they all will work for someone.

3 Family Friendly Ways to be Frugal

Limit Eating Out. Cook More. This one is so tough for me, which is why it is first on the list. Feeding our family is mainly my responsibility. I want to do a good job for both the health of my family and the health of our bank account. Being a “Drive-Thru Sue” is so very easy for me to fall into. I do enjoy cooking, but let’s face it, it takes time, not to mention the clean up can seem like more work than it’s worth to prepare the meal. Now that I have a one year old toddler in tow, it is all the more difficult to find time to do what it takes to cook. However, this is the most frugal thing I can do. Since eating is something I can easily let get out of control, it is the first thing I have to address. So, for me, taking care of this has to come before a clean house, to include laundry. Here’s how I accomplish this…most weeks.

Meal Planning. Every week I sit down and write up a meal plan. This is a habit I learned from my mother-in-law after I was married and it has really helped us save money on food. How? Well, before I meal plan, I take a peek at what’s in my fridge, freezer, and pantry, and try to build meals around things I already have. Then I sit down and peruse my cookbooks if I’m feeling adventurous, or jot down a few meals that are staples in our home. As I make my meals, I make my…

Grocery List. This seems simple enough, but a well planned grocery list keeps me from buying things that aren’t ON the list. When I go to the store without a list, I end up buying more than I need, and usually waste more…because the two of us (plus little dino) simply can’t get through it all. If this is a pain point for you, I have a few friends that swear by the curbside pick up or grocery delivery options at our local grocery stores. Some stores do charge for this service, but if you find yourself spending less using this option than if you would have gone in, it’s definitely worth a try.

Prepare Meals Ahead. When I am cooking certain meals, I will sometimes double the recipe and save half in the freezer. Some good candidates for freezer meals are soups, chili, and casseroles, such as shepherd’s pie. I also tend to make more spaghetti sauce in relation to pasta or spaghetti squash, so I freeze half of this as well. (Bonus tip: For those who aren’t good at eating through all the produce in the fridge before it wilts or spoils, wash it and chop it when you buy it, and throw it in the freezer for another day! I do this with carrots, spinach, celery, peppers, and berries. I also buy bulk onions and garlic and just throw the whole bag in the freezer for when I need it.)

Eat Leftovers. I’m always shocked when I hear people say they don’t eat leftovers. I truly can’t imagine just throwing food away. Ok, so maybe some people are good at preparing just enough for that one meal. To that I say: I truly can’t imagine having to cook every night. Hahaha! But if you can, power to you. That’s awesome! If that is you, you are clearly way more organized than me and probably LOVE cooking way more than me as well.

Make Eating Out Special. If you are like me, eating out or ordering in, even at fast food places, can feel like a vacation from the kitchen. I enjoy not having to cook that night. I enjoy letting someone else feed me for a change, for goodness sake! My husband and I try to plan once a month to go somewhere we really enjoy and make a date out of it. (I must note that this last one is not recommended for those who are in debt. When my husband and I had debt, we did not eat out. Ever. We basically lived on rice, beans, and eggs, and at times, the kindness of others who might have us over for dinner.)

Old School House Rules. Take a look at that budget. Work on taking steps to lower your household expenses. What can you do to lower your electricity bill? Your water bill?

Turn off the lights and switch to LED. I used to get in such trouble as a child for keeping the lights on in a room I was no longer occupying. I still shudder in fear at the remembrance of the sound of my first and middle name being yelled by my mother if she found a vacant room with a light burning brightly. In fact, this habit has stuck so severely, that I have (more than once) turned the light off as I leave a room my husband is still occupying! Whoops! Sorry honey.

Another energy saving method we have employed is using a drying rack to dry our clothes instead of the dryer. The average person spends about $50/month by using the dryer. Drying racks or clothes lines are not only cheaper as it relates to electricity, but it also keeps your clothes from wearing out as quickly. We use drying racks because our subdivision’s HOA would not allow the use of a clothes line in the backyard. (Ridiculous! We will never buy a house under an HOA again!) However, since we moved to our apartment, the drying racks have allowed us to continue to dry clothes both inside and outside on the patio. (Thank goodness the complex doesn’t mind

If you own your own home and plan to live there for a while, look into things you can do to make your home more energy efficient. We had solar screens fitted to our windows and there was a significant difference in the amount of heat coming into our home during the summer. Living in South Texas, the heat can be brutal! We also had our insulation double checked and a radiant barrier installed. Once we have found our forever home, we will look into Solar panels.

Saving on the water bill doesn’t take too much imagination, but doesn’t take some discipline if you really want to make a dent. Turn the water off when you’re brushing your teeth, pay attention to how long your shower is running. If you are watering your grass or garden, make it count by watering early in the morning or late in the evening. Think dawn and/or dusk.

Replace Consumable Products with Reusable Products. This one was tough for our family in the beginning, but now it’s not a big deal at all. The most difficult thing to let go of was paper towels. We used them for everything from cleaning to napkins. So here’s what I did: I started cleaning the table and counters with my dish towels. I also bought a set of 12 cloth napkins – the kind you see at a nice-ish restaurant, and we use these at meal times rather than tearing off pre-perforated paper towels and passing them around the table like we used to do. I have also recently discovered a self-cleaning microfiber cloth which I really like. This has eliminated my need for chemical cleaners, so although the transition is slow-going, my home is on its way to chemical-free cleaning with these cloths and essential oil blends like Thieves.

This idea can be applied to other things as well. Consider the consumable products you use. What reusable products might you be able to replace them with? Here are a few more ideas: cloth diapers instead of disposable (do I dare mention the wipes?), maybe use reusable containers rather than plastic baggies when packing your lunch, and go ahead and use your flatware instead of buying paper plates. What’s a little more laundry and a few more dishes? – we all have to do them anyway!

There are so many ways to tweak lifestyle and habits alike in order to save money. For more ideas, visit this website. Now here’s a family dedicated to frugality. I love Mrs. Frugalwoods’ idea to put a slip of paper in your wallet to remind you of your bigger goals and dreams. If you’re us, when you go to spend money you see it and say, “Would I rather have pizza delivered or for my family to be closer to our goal of owning a farm?”

Our family wants to learn from you too! Please share YOUR frugal ideas in the comment section below.

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#Family Frugality #Parenthood #Teaching and Guiding our Children

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