So, my engine kinda blew this morning when I went to start it… and caught on fire… yeah my car is dead.
This is a problem for multiple reasons– 1) I take car of my mom~ she has doctors appointments pretty much every week that she needs to be able to get to, and a limited number of free rides through her insurance.
2) i have work on the other side of town- I substitute teach, and in order to take care of my family, I NEED to be able to work.
So… before my pride kicks in and I am unable to do this, I am asking for some serious help.
I need to get a new car ASAP. I don’t need anything fancy, I just need something I can drive. As such, my goal is $2500.
I know that is alot, but I have a lot of followers- if everyone could donate even a $1 I’d be halfway to my goal.
If you can donate, you can HERE ON MY KOFI or to my PayPal at clare.moyer10@yahoo.com!
((For those interested, I lost my more reliable care around the same time last year when someone T-Boned me in an intersection while I was working so… the universe kinda hates me lol))
If you can reblog this it would be appreciated!
C’mon miraculers! We can do this 🙂 share the love anyway you can!
honestly a good partner isn’t necessarily someone who loves the exact same things you love but rather someone who is willing to listen to you ramble on and on about a particular subject that you’re passionate about even if they have little to no interest in it
never make a suicide joke again. yes this includes “i wanna die” as a figure of speech. swear off of it. actually make an effort to change how you think about things.
find something to compliment someone for at least 4 times a day. notice the little things about the world that make you happy, and use that to make other people happy.
talk to people. initiate conversation as often as you possibly can. keep your mind busy and you wont have to worry anymore
picture the bad intrusive thoughts in youe head as an edgy 13 year old and tell them to go be emo somewhere else
if someone makes you feel bad most of the time, stop talking to them. making yourself hang out with people who drain you is self harm. stop it.
… 8|
That’s some pretty good advice. I don’t know what’s left of my humor after ‘guess I’ll just die’ jokes but it’s worth a shot.
Personally i went from “guess I’ll die” jokes to “IF I HAVE TO BE HERE FOR 5 MORE MINUTES I PROMISE YOU I WILL BUY JUST, AN ARRAY OF CLOTHES.” and other wild hyperbolic stuff. Just replace the death part with something ridiculous and off topic. Its very entertaining
This also works with calling myself things like stupid, worthless, trash, etc. Even if you do this jokingly to yourself, your brain still believes it, and keeps up the cycle. Seriously, I found that when I stopped saying these things about myself, even jokingly, it made a massive difference.
Here’s a tip I picked up from a friend that’s helped me a lot — replace self deprecating jokes with ironically self aggrandizing jokes
Like every time I trip and fall, instead of saying “l’m just a disaster human” I say “I’m the epitome of grace and beauty”
Or like, when I draw a picture I’m not 100% happy with, instead of saying “my art is trash” I say something like “you know I think it’s time we replaced the Mona Lisa”
When you do that you get to make a joke, but you’re ALSO getting practice building yourself up, y’know?
And eventually it becomes a reflex and you get so used to it that you can say nice stuff about yourself even when you AREN’T joking
It’s November 2018. I’ve just watched the last episode of Voltron. None of our ships were canon. The screen fades to black. Netflix recommends I watch watch Troll Hunters next. I grip my Capri Sun tightly in my hand. Tears stream down my face. “Klance is canon king” I whisper softly into the void.
It’s December 2018, a month after Voltron has ended. I see red and blue markers next to each other in class and scream. “It was supposed to be,” I say, tears streaming down my face. “…it was supposed to be…”
I fall to the ground, shaking.
It’s August 2088, years after Voltron has ended. My son, Klance, has brought his kids over to visit. My grandchildren, Laith, Thunderpike and Yorance gather round and ask me to tell them their favorite story, the story of how they got their names. I start my tale but get choked up. They all wait patiently and rub my back as I violently sob. They know this is hard for me. It’s hard for all of us.
It’s February 2520. It’s been a decade since the last galactic war. Politicians need to defend their case as to why Earth should be spared from annihilation. They need events from the past. My body has been dug up and restored. They ask me about the past presidents, our achievements, and past Nobel Peace prize winners. I can’t answer them. I am shaking as they try to pry out answers, but I can’t get the image out of my head. They ask me why I won’t respond and I cry.
“Keef…” my tongue is slow, I can barely move it. “Lance…”
“KEITH AND LANCE, WRITE THAT DOWN,” the scientist yells. “Who were Keith and Lance?”
“…not…….gay.”
“What?”
“They weren’t gay,” a sudden fire rushes over me. “They were there. They were supposed to be together.” I shake vigorously, but no longer in fear. I am angry, and I grip the scientist’s hand. “Where are my children?”
The scientist is trying to pull away, baffled. “O-our records say you didn’t have children…”
“I KNOW that. I need to see Keith and Lance.”
“Who are Keith and Lance?” another scientist tries to calm me. “Describe them.”
I rack my brain. What did I call them again? “They were….”
“Yes?”
“A good team… they were soulmates… they were my otp… they were…. they were……”
“Take your time.”
“Canon king.”
“Oh no…” The scientist’s eyes widen. I am strapped down, and start struggling against my constraints. “Call the president…”
I hear this and panic, multiple officials leave the room in a frenzy and I struggle harder. My constraints loosen. I can finally run, and bolt for the window. I jump out, hearing alarms blare out sirens behind me. I am free.
It’s July 4923, the earth has died and all it’s natural resources have been depleted. The last surviving human crawls his way across the wasteland. He comes across a red and blue shell sticking out amongst the rubble. “K…Klance” he rasps out with his last breath. He promptly dies.
The last words for the last human, for even at the end of the wold, klance truly is endgame
i just got a super predatory debt collection letter. it was for a $113 debt from citizens bank, who i had an account with when i was 16 (20 years ago). the letter appeared to be an offer to cancel the debt if i paid them $22.75. HOWEVER, the actual wording is, “The amount of the debt is $113.77 and we will accept $22.75.” so, no MENTION of canceling the debt, but the implication is there because many collectors of current debt offer to settle for a percentage.
at the bottom of the letter, it says: “Because of the age of your debt, we cannot sue you for it and we cannot report to any credit reporting agency. In many circumstances, you can renew the debt and start the time period for the filing of a lawsuit against you if you take specific actions such as making payments on the debt or making a written promise to pay.”
basically… i don’t owe this money anymore, the debt is so old they can’t legally sue me for it OR put it on my credit report, BUT if i take their generous offer of paying them $22.75… they can sue me for the full amount because making a payment makes the debt current.
no thanks, jefferson capital systems llc.
always, always read the entire letter! it is so important because of semantic awfulness like this!
Welcome to Chaos 