Please don’t include X with the boomers. Since we stepped into the real world and realized it functions completely differently than what we were raised to believe, life’s just been a neverending string of “wait, that was wrong too?” We just want to survive another day under the radar.
Sorry fellow X’rs for publicly acknowledging our existence. Hopefully this post doesn’t get any upvotes. *Pulls blanket back over my head.
The hospital I work at had installed some kind of wipe catcher in most of the publicly accessable toilets. All you can see is a metal ring at the opening at the bottom of the toilet with a sign warning not to put your hand in there or you WILL get shredded. Apparently it has sharp bits that will snag wipes if you attempt to flush them.
I didn’t wait for them to accuse me of stealing. My final straw was when they removed 80% of the check outs in favor of self check outs.
It’s so stupid that they waste it like that. I can only assume that somebody didn’t want to be bothered with donating it to a food bank. Seriously though, the amount of time it would take to uncap and pour all that out as opposed to making a couple phone calls. SMH
If anything it’s more of a quality control thing.
It’s the difference between “I bought frozen peas that expire in 6 months and they’re all freezer burned - I want a refund!” And “the frozen peas I forgot about that expired 2 years ago are freezer burned - I want a refund!” One of them is more likely to get their money back than the other.
Also the quality of certain canned foods deteriorates after a time. Some things get mushy or the color changes weirdly that make it unappetizing, so dates can be a good reference. That said, I’ve been utilizing food banks for the last 25+ years. Expiration dates don’t scare me, but they do inform.
Interesting. All it shows me are cats, hair cut/dying, coffee, animals being silly, and comedic videos.
Right up until the point that someone complains that grams are metric and not American, calling for a boycott. It makes my head hurt.
I work in hospice, everyone’s journey is different. As you hear things (some people share stories intending to be well meaning) try to let it slide off. Focus on your families and your needs, and know that there are resources available for assistance and support (social workers, spiritual needs, etc.)
Here in the Midwest we even have some combined Long John Silver and Taco Bell restaurants. You can go through the drive-thru and order off of both menus. They’ve been slowly disappearing but for a while they were all over the place.
Chicken planks, fries, hush puppies, and an obscene amount of tartar sauce to dip everything into. And the crunchy little batter bits? Absolute gold.
God I could go for some right now.
I’d imagine Sprite being more refreshing rushing through my sinuses.
Crematoriums hate this one trick!
Should I be calling it a foot speculum or heel speculum? Which sounds worse?
Achilles speculum? Tarsal speculum?
This one took me a moment. At first glance I thought this was posted under work reform lol. I got really curious.
Following those lines, I recently received some money from an aunt who passed away in January. It’s possible that I could straight up pay for the repairs, but I sure as hell don’t want to tell someone that before they give me a number!
Most of the companies I’ve had contact with start talking about claim numbers before they even come out. Of the ones that actually came out and looked at the roof, they wanted claim numbers “to talk it out with the insurance company” and then they’ll get back to me with what it would cost once they get it sorted out. It’s just so frustrating.
My current problem is that I have a big job that I still can’t even get done.
I need a roof, as in I have an extremely old house with a very old worn roof that has actually developed a whole rotted into part of it. If I can get a roofing company to come out to do an estimate, they won’t even talk numbers with me unless I tell them I’ll file an insurance claim as storm damage and they’ll work with the insurance company. This isn’t storm damage. This is me not having money for too many years to get the job done when it should have been done, and now my roof is fucked, and I’m getting a run around by the people to replace it.
A few years back my 19 yo American son had a great experience working the summer as a camp counselor here in the states. It is a religious camp (not that my son is that religion) that draws in campers from the states and Europe. Many of those campers as they get older come back as counselors. They get the appropriate visas, make money working the camp for 8 weeks, then take the few weeks after camp before they have to leave and blow that money on traveling the States and their trip home. It was an incredible experience and inspired my son to bust his ass, save money, and a few years later took a self funded trip to Europe where he couch surfed these homes of the friends he made.
I think about those kids this year. There’s no way I’d risk traveling back to this shit hole country if I were them.
When I was growing up I never connected that we always had a special “breakfast for dinner” the night before Easter. What was happening is that my parents would carefully crack one end of a dozen eggs to preserve the majority of the shell, and wash them. After lightly baking the empty shells to make sure they were dry/sanitary, my dad would fill them with a candy mix (M&Ms, Skittles, peanuts, mints) then seal the egg with royal icing and dry. These eggs would be hidden in random places throughout the house. Little kid me never questioned the arrival of the eggs, but enjoyed smashing the shell and spilling the candy out.
By the time I had kids, the best I could muster is plastic shells we would fill with candy and toys. My kids still had fun and I just reused the shells year after year.
I work in hospice, and can’t describe the anger and sadness I have at moments. I say moments because if I let it fester I’d be of no help.
Like the young woman that recently passed - a few years ago she was diagnosed with extremely high blood pressure in her 30s, so had to go on medication. Shortly after she lost her job and couldn’t afford it, so quit talking her meds. Next thing you know she had a stroke. A couple years later she has complications leading to another event, and now she’s dead.
Because lifesaving medicine and healthcare is too expensive, parents watched their child die.
Seriously, I was raised with so much propaganda.
Up until my late twenties I had believed basically everything I was taught in school. I never had reason to question it, as I was basically living in a bubble. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that when the colonists arrived to this country, it wasn’t just big empty open spaces that the native Americans gladly shared with us. Funny enough, that’s roughly when I gained access to the internet.