It all starts with one of the worst PC habits I wish I never learned.
I'm hesitant to even share this hotkey but if you hold SHIFT+DEL on Windows, it'll completely delete your selected file instead of sending it to the recycle bin.
I'm very OCD-levels of tidy to a fault and for the past year, I started to incorporate this hotkey more and more in my normal workflow. It became second nature. My peanut brain the entire time thought, "Wow, I'm shaving seconds off and being more efficient!"
Fast forward to today. Working on a game project for the past 2 months. For the first time ever, I ran into an error with my local repo. After spending half the day frustratingly troubleshooting to no avail, I decided, "Fuck it, I'll just delete my local repo and clone from scratch".
SHIFT+DEL
+200,000 files deleted. -100 GB. Giant sigh of relief. Feels real good like I just took a massive dump. I grunt in satisfaction. I clone a new repo. Takes a while to download so I open my programs to get back to work.
Dialog box pops up:

[Project management] The selected location 'C:/Project/blahblah/file' doesn't exist!

-- then it dawned on me that I kept my source folder which had all my raw data inside that same directory. I instantly install Recuva in hopes to restore the files I need (as the drive is already being rewritten by the new cloned repo).
Worst part is I fucking hate this hotkey but I still keep using it because I'm conditioned to and Windows has no option to disable this key. Please help.
TL;DR Tried to be efficient and shave off seconds by learning a horrible Windows hotkey. Ended up accidentally deleting a week's worth of work.

It’s new (mini) set time and time for warlock, druid or rogue to break the game again. This time, Druid got left behind.
While glare is the new big kid on the block, the deck is preying on a meta that had a 35% of renathal decks before the miniset, and as that number go down and to a new equilibrium, i expect the deck will stabilize around a reasonable power level (i wouldn’t mind crystallizer to get deleted though so we can finally play questless glare like our Lord intended). Meanwhile, the meta shifts around make for a lot of decks becoming suddendly playable. Handbuff paladin, more reach based aggro and ice block decks even with a worse wincon than warp since tech is very hard to play in a glare meta. So anyway, after tuning some glare lists (strictly questless) i started trying some other things. This is my first attempt at a deck that has a decent position in the new meta Secret Arcane Hunter, also known as Custom Warlock 2:
2 x Arcane Shot 2 x Costumed Singer 2 x Ricochet Shot 2 x Shimmer Shot 2 x Trinket Tracker 2 x Bargain Bin 2 x Hidden Meaning 2 x Mad Scientist 2 x Silvermoon Farstrider 2 x ZOMBEES!!! 2 x Celestial Shot 1 x Cloaked Huntress 1 x Halduron Brightwing 2 x Eversong Portal 1 x Rinling Rifle 1 x Beastalker Tavish 2 x Starstrung Bow
No code cause i can’t copy it atm (i’m on my work pc, for my lawyer, this is a joke). The idea behind the deck is pretty simple: Early game play some minions, get some secrets up, and then lategame finish with buffed reach + bow. This deck can work because of an ok glare matchup (especially the more aggro 30 versions) and because it farm one of the popular glare counters (sorc mage, at least until they play performers and then you cri ev3rytime ). Some card choiches explanation: The arcane package without conjuring arrow: i don’t think we need the extra draw in this format, especially turn 6+. You get your secrets pretty consistently between singer and scientist, and then your secrets draw your bows and extra cards. This package has two purposes: it is reach vs glare and slower decks, and it’s board control vs aggro. It’s in fact the only way you win the aggro matchup, by getting early farstriders/haldurons into portal/ricochet. The secret package: the secrets i’m playing here are imho by far the best 6 you can play. You can tell they’re good because it’s not a warcrime to spend mana on them. Turn 2 bees contest a lot of aggro plays, turn 2 meaning is often a 3 drop with charge, and turn 2 bin is swindle without the combo requirement (don’t play it on 2 though, always tempo king). 6 secrets, 2 Singers and 2 Scientist feel perfect as a package. It’s good enough to make your bow cheap later on, it doesn’t dilute ur draw with too many secrets early on and both the tutors are acceptable as tempo plays as well (revert singer cowards). Rinling Rifle: the third weapon to improve bin, as well to discount your bows and get additional utility. I’ve liked it quite a bit. Tavish: generally good against a lot of things, plus gives you secrets. No Product 9: this feels instinctively a tad too slow to me. On turn 5 you may have easily only triggered a single secret, more often two, and two secrets that your opponent know of plus a 4/4 doesn’t look like premium to me. It would be much more interesting in a reno shell, where you get to the lategame more consistently and as such this could be a huge bomb, but in an aggro shell? Doubt. I’d rather play a single Huntress over it as the three-drop slot is a thin.
The mulligan: In general always keep the 1 drops into a curve, don’t keep secrets or cards that cost 4+ (rare exception, being on coin and having triple secret/double secret and singer + huntress is prob a keep). Keep farstrider vs aggro and try to toss everything into arcane spells (trinker tracker also ok obviously) to clear their early boards. What does it work against: - Glare is ok. Good reach. This matchup get worse the higher you go up on ladder. Quad digit glare is free. Triple digit is favored. Double digit is even-ish. High legend is unfavored but who cares. - Slow-ish decks are mostly ok. - Combo mages and druids (there are some dorian combos around) are usually free with the secrets combined with the pressure. What it does not work against: - Aggro me dood. These matchup are about early arcane package (farstrider into ricochet/eversong) to prevent snowballing and then hopefully you can race them. You can’t really stabilize here, they’re bad and drifter is ur worst enemy. - Huhunter. They usually kill a bit faster than you do. This is bad-ish, not terrible. - Handbuff pally with lot of heal. Healing is cheat! Bad healing! Bad! Sit down!
I’ve climbed pretty consistently with this but again can’t check stats as i’m on the move and i play only on phone. It has been feeling good and it’s something a bit different than what i’ve been playing lately. Hope you guys don’t play hearthstone and go outside this weekend.

I'm in California and just moved into a new apartment. Like the title says, there is no recycling bin on the premises. This doesn't seem legal. Anybody else experienced this? Is there anything I can do?

my new shepherd girl loves to “counter” surf, and all of the advice i find online is only in regards to in the kitchen, tables, or searching for food… this is not the case!😩 she is like a cat yall. she just likes to hop up and stand on counters and look around at the stuff or get comfy. she has knocked over so much stuff! it does not matter if its a food surface- as long as she can fit her body and reach it, shes jumping up. then shes gonna take a little stroll around and maybe attempt to curl up for a nap while disregarding what is knocked over during the process.. she typically listens so well but as soon as you turn your back she will do it lol. id love to just have management in place to keep her from this but its not only my kitchen, its every single room! i hope to eventually be able to have her uncrated while im busy doing something, without worrying about her falling/breaking something/hurting herself.
beyond regular table/counters this also includes tall stools, wall shelving, bookshelves, night stands, on top of trash bins, other dogs crates (while they’re in it- the audacity!!😭🙃🤣) shes very new in the home and i imagine she will quickly realize we dont like it, and with consistent correcting/redirecting and management it will get better. but id love some advice on how to go about this in the best way possible, and how to correctly make jumping/walking on surfaces not as interesting as it is to her right now. thank you!!

hello :D I keep getting this log when trying to start my server, seems to be something to do with reading the mixin.json files but I'm super stuck. here is the log I'm getting. Everything seems to run fine on the client side, but I cannot for the life of me get the server to start :,)
After alot of research, it seems like maybe those json files are formatted differently maybe? Is there a way i can solve this issue without manually editing the .json files causing compatibility issues? or is that the only way i can get this working :C (Still not entirely sure this is the correct solution either)
Any ideas or help is very appreciated, I've been working on this for days and I'm so fed up AAA

/uslocal/bin/wrapper: line 21: [: too many arguments Detected Java 17 error connecting to /tmp//tmux-0/default (No such file or directory) =]112 Starting net.fabricmc.loader.impl.game.minecraft.BundlerClassPathCapture [05:30:49] [main/INFO]: Loading Minecraft 1.20.1 with Fabric Loader 0.15.7 [05:30:49] [ForkJoinPool-1-worker-23/WARN]: Mod netherdepthsupgrade uses the version fabric-3.1.6-1.20 which isn't compatible with Loader's extended semantic version format (Could not parse version number component 'fabric'!), SemVer is recommended for reliably evaluating dependencies and prioritizing newer version [05:30:49] [ForkJoinPool-1-worker-39/WARN]: Mod getittogetherdrops uses the version fabric-1.20-1.3 which isn't compatible with Loader's extended semantic version format (Could not parse version number component 'fabric'!), SemVer is recommended for reliably evaluating dependencies and prioritizing newer version [05:30:49] [ForkJoinPool-1-worker-37/WARN]: Mod betterdogs_dtn uses the version ${version} which isn't compatible with Loader's extended semantic version format (Could not parse version number component '${version}'!), SemVer is recommended for reliably evaluating dependencies and prioritizing newer version [05:30:49] [ForkJoinPool-1-worker-5/WARN]: Mod xercamusic uses the version fabric-1.20.1-1.0.0 which isn't compatible with Loader's extended semantic version format (Could not parse version number component 'fabric'!), SemVer is recommended for reliably evaluating dependencies and prioritizing newer version [05:30:49] [ForkJoinPool-1-worker-44/WARN]: Mod xercapaint uses the version fabric-1.20.1-1.0.0 which isn't compatible with Loader's extended semantic version format (Could not parse version number component 'fabric'!), SemVer is recommended for reliably evaluating dependencies and prioritizing newer version - blastingsand 1.20.1-11-fabric- bookshelf 20.1.10- brewery 1.1.8- bushierflowers 0.0.3-1.20.1- campchair 1.0.3- candlelight 1.2.12- carrier 1.12.0 \-- advanced_runtime_resource_pack 0.6.7- catalogue 1.8.0- chimes 2.0.1- chipped 3.0.6- chunky 1.3.146- clickadv 1.20.1-3.8- cloth-config 11.1.118 \-- cloth-basic-math 0.6.1- clumps 12.0.0.4- clutter 1.20-0.5.8- cobbledex 1.0.0- cobbleit 0.0.1- cobblemon 1.5.0+1.20.1- cobblemon-plantapricorns 1.4-fabric-1.0.0- cobblemon_capturexp 1.5-fabric-1.0.0- cobblemon_chaining 1.4-fabric-1.0.3 - diagonalfences 8.1.4 \-- diagonalblocks 8.0.5- diagonalwalls 8.0.3 \-- diagonalblocks 8.0.5- diagonalwindows 8.1.4 \-- diagonalblocks 8.0.5- doapi 1.2.12 -- mixinextras 0.3.5 \-- terraform-wood-api-v1 7.0.1- doggytalents 1.18.10- easyanvils 8.0.2- easymagic 8.0.1- elytraslot 6.3.0+1.20.1- emotecraft 2.2.7-b.build.50 -- bendy-lib 4.0.0 \-- player-animator 1.0.2-rc1+1.20- epherolib 1.2.0- everycomp 1.20-2.6.55 -- porting_lib_loot 2.3.0+1.20.1 -- porting_lib_recipe_book_categories 2.3.0+1.20.1 \-- porting_lib_registries 2.3.0+1.20.1- explorerscompass 1.20.1-2.2.3-fabric- fabric-api 0.92.1+1.20.1 -- fabric-api-base 0.4.31+1802a - farmersdelight 1.20.1-1.4.3- fdjei 1.0.1- flowerymooblooms 2.0.1- forgeconfigapiport 8.0.0- framework 0.6.16 \-- org_javassist_javassist 3.29.2-GA- friendsandfoes 2.0.10- fusion 1.1.1- fwaystones 3.3.2+mc1.20.1- geckolib 4.4.4 \-- com_eliotlash_mclib_mclib 20- getittogetherdrops fabric-1.20-1.3- grindenchantments 3.1.2+1.20 \-- codec-config-api 1.0.2+1.19.3- hamsters 1.0.2-fabric- handcrafted 3.0.6- healingcampfire 5.3- herbalbrews 1.0.7- hybrid-aquatic 1.3.2 -- mixinextras 0.3.5 \-- reach-entity-attributes 2.4.0- idwtialsimmoedm 0.3.0+1.20- immersive_aircraft 1.0.0+1.20.1 \-- org_mariuszgromada_math_m \-- packet_tweaker 0.4.0+1.19.4 \-- polymer-registry-sync-manipulator 0.5.19+1.20.1 -- polymer-resource-pack 0.5.19+1.20.1 \-- polymer-common 0.5.19+1.20.1 \-- packet_tweaker 0.4.0+1.19.4 -- polymer-virtual-entity 0.5.19+1.20.1 \-- polymer-common 0.5.19+1.20.1 \-- packet_tweaker 0.4.0+1.19.4 -- predicate-api 0.2.1+1.20.1 -- server_translations_api 2.0.0+1.20 \-- packet_tweaker 0.4.0+1.19.4 \-- sgui 1.2.2+1.20- villagernames 7.3- vinery 1.4.19- watut 1.20.1-1.1.1- wthit 8.10.0- xaerominimap 24.1.1- xaeroworldmap 1.38.4- xercamusic fabric-1.20.1-1.0.0- xercapaint fabric-1.20.1-1.0.0- yungsapi 1.20-Fabric-4.0.5 \-- mixinextras 0.3.5- yungsextras 1.20-Fabric-4.0.3 [05:30:50] [main/INFO]: SpongePowered MIXIN Subsystem Version=0.8.5 Source=file:/opt/service/libraries/net/fabricmc/sponge-mixin/0.12.5+mixin.0.8.5/sponge-mixin-0.12.5+mixin.0.8.5.jar Service=Knot/Fabric Env=SERVER [05:30:50] [main/INFO]: Compatibility level set to JAVA_17 [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'blastingsand-refmap.json' for blastingsand.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'cobblemonintegrations-fabric-refmap.json' for cobblemonintegrations.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'codec-config-api-refmap.json' for codec-config-api.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'connectedglass.mixins.refmap.json' for connectedglass.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'coroutil.refmap.json' for coroutil_fabric.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'hamsters-refmap.json' for hamsters.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'interiors-fabric-refmap.json' for interiors.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/INFO]: Loaded configuration file for ModernFix 5.17.0+mc1.20.1: 55 options available, 0 override(s) found [05:30:50] [main/INFO]: Applying Nashorn fix [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'NethersDelight-refmap.json' for nethersdelight.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'rechiseled.mixins.refmap.json' for rechiseled.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'supermartijn642configlib.mixins.refmap.json' for supermartijn642configlib.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'xercamusic-refmap.json' for xercamusic.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'xercapaint-refmap.json' for xercapaint.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'yungsextras.refmap.json' for yungsextras.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:50] [main/WARN]: Reference map 'yungsextras.refmap.json' for yungsextras_fabric.mixins.json could not be read. If this is a development environment you can ignore this message [05:30:51] [main/WARN]: Error loading class: net/minecraft/class_906 (java.lang.ClassNotFoundException: net/minecraft/class_906) [05:30:51] [main/WARN]: u/Mixin target net.minecraft.class_906 was not found porting_lib_tool_actions.mixins.json:FishingHookRendererMixin from mod porting_lib_tool_actions [05:30:51] [main/WARN]: Error loading class: juuxel/adorn/block/variant/BlockVariantSets (java.lang.ClassNotFoundException: juuxel/adorn/block/variant/BlockVariantSets) [05:30:51] [main/WARN]: u/Mixin target juuxel.adorn.block.variant.BlockVariantSets was not found mixins.cobblemon-common.json:invoker.AdornRegisterInvoker from mod cobblemon [05:30:51] [main/WARN]: Error loading class: io/github/apace100/apoli/powefactory/condition/ConditionFactory (java.lang.ClassNotFoundException: io/github/apace100/apoli/powefactory/condition/ConditionFactory) [05:30:51] [main/WARN]: Error loading class: fcatcore/servetranslations/api/resource/language/SystemDelegatedLanguage (java.lang.ClassNotFoundException: fcatcore/servetranslations/api/resource/language/SystemDelegatedLanguage) [05:30:52] [main/WARN]: Error loading class: net/minecraft/class_5616 (java.lang.ClassNotFoundException: net/minecraft/class_5616) [05:30:52] [main/WARN]: u/Mixin target net.minecraft.class_5616 was not found registrate-fabric.mixins.json:accessor.BlockEntityRenderersAccessor from mod registrate-fabric at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.launch.knot.KnotClassDelegate.loadClass(KnotClassDelegate.java:218) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?]at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.launch.knot.KnotClassLoader.loadClass(KnotClassLoader.java:119) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?]at java.lang.ClassLoader.loadClass(ClassLoader.java:520) ~[?:?]at java.lang.Class.forName0(Native Method) ~[?:?]at java.lang.Class.forName(Class.java:467) ~[?:?]at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.util.DefaultLanguageAdapter.create(DefaultLanguageAdapter.java:50) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?]at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.entrypoint.EntrypointStorage$NewEntry.getOrCreate(EntrypointStorage.java:117) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?]at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.entrypoint.EntrypointContainerImpl.getEntrypoint(EntrypointContainerImpl.java:53) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?]at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.FabricLoaderImpl.invokeEntrypoints(FabricLoaderImpl.java:384) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?]at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.launch.knot.Knot.init(Knot.java:160) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?]at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.launch.knot.Knot.launch(Knot.java:68) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?]at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.launch.knot.KnotServer.main(KnotServer.java:23) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?]at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.launch.server.FabricServerLauncher.main(FabricServerLauncher.java:69) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?] [05:30:52] [main/INFO]: I used the json to destroy the json [05:30:52] [main/INFO]: Initializing MixinExtras via com.llamalad7.mixinextras.service.MixinExtrasServiceImpl(version=0.3.5). [05:30:54] [main/WARN]: u/Inject(@At("INVOKE")) Shift.BY=2 on porting_lib_entity.mixins.json:common.LivingEntityMixin from mod porting_lib_entity::handler$coo000$porting_lib_entity$port_lib$onFinishUsing exceeds the maximum allowed value: 0. Increase the value of maxShiftBy to suppress this warning. at java.util.stream.AbstractPipeline.evaluateToArrayNode(AbstractPipeline.java:260) ~[?:?]at java.util.stream.ReferencePipeline.toArray(ReferencePipeline.java:616) ~[?:?] at net.minecraft.class_1856.(class_1856.java:43) ~[server-intermediary.jar:?]at net.minecraft.class_1856.method_8092(class_1856.java:105) ~[server-intermediary.jar:?]at net.minecraft.class_1856.method_26964(class_1856.java:123) ~[server-intermediary.jar:?]at net.minecraft.class_1856.method_8091(class_1856.java:115) ~[server-intermediary.jar:?]at net.minecraft.class_1845.method_8080(class_1845.java:216) ~[server-intermediary.jar:?]at net.minecraft.class_1845.method_8076(class_1845.java:115) ~[server-intermediary.jar:?]at net.minecraft.class_2966.method_12851(class_2966.java:61) ~[server-intermediary.jar:?]at net.minecraft.server.Main.main(Main.java:109) ~[server-intermediary.jar:?]at net.fabricmc.loader.impl.game.minecraft.MinecraftGameProvider.launch(MinecraftGameProvider.java:470) ~[fabric-loader-0.15.7.jar:?]... 3 more >]112[exited] Performing safe shutdown... no server running on /tmp/tmux-0/default no server running on /tmp/tmux-0/default Waiting 10 seconds for the server to save... 

I'm having a lousy day as a parent and could use some outside perspective. My kid is 12 and they have a defined chore list: unloading the dishwasher and trash, usually 2-3 wk, takinng the trash bin out to the curb once weekly, keeping their room and bathroom tidy (no dirty clothes on the floor, not collecting plates and cups in their room, and taking out their bathroom trash when it's full); there's no vacuuming, dusting furniture, mopping floors, or scrubbing toilets. These are not new; we started with these tasks young, but with me helping.
I was hard on my kid tonight. More so than I needed to be.
My frustration this evening came from the fact that it's Thursday night and the kitchen trash is overflowing for the second time this week. The trash bin needs to go out to the curb for 7am pickup. The dishwasher was full of clean dishes that needed to be put away so I could load tonight's dirty dishes. I asked her to deal with the trash and of course the faces she made. Ugh. I didn't have it in me so I've told her to go upstairs and let me clean the kitchen in peace.
About an hour later, I went up and found her in her room. Immediately she brings her iPad showing me swimsuits she wants me to order for a party this weekend. There's dirty clothes on her floor, makeup smudged on her vanity, q-tips with mascara strewn about. She had not showered or otherwise gotten ready for bed. She had not charged her school laptop or other devices for tomorrow. More trash on her bathroom counters, clothes on the floor. We have tried keeping chore lists and reminders on whiteboards, on the refrigerator, and even on get phone. Makes no difference.
I worked all day today except for the nearly two hours I spent on the phone calling our health insurance company, the kid's sinus surgeon, different radiology practices trying to schedule CT scans for her and understand why certain surgical procedures were being denied and what information could be provided so we wouldn't have to push back her surgery at the end of the month. This comes after yesterday when I missed most of work day taking her for dental work with the added complication of needing oral sedation and nitrous.
The sinus surgery is recommended bc she has recurrent sinus infections triggered by allergies. Everyday is a battle - do I push the allergy medicine or do I endure her shitty attitude about taking? Mostly, I push the medicine, but even so she rarely takes everything she's supposed to as directed (two meds in the AM and one in the PM). I keep a pillbox for her and set it out daily at breakfast, and keep the nighttime med in her bathroom. They're always within reach and ready for her.
She went away to camp last summer and she said her allergies were much better; shocking since her camp has no AC in the cabins, only screens in place of windows. She's allergic to mold, dust, tree, and pollen so you would think living in such conditions for weeks would make her worse; still, not enough to convince her that taking her meds keeps her symptoms at bay. The dentist ... she refuses adult toothpaste; she doesn't like the taste of mint. And, yes, I know all about the prescription toothpaste, and the kid toothpaste with the fun, fruity flavors. I don't believe the kid toothpaste to be as effective she needs as our family is prone to cavities (she's already had 3 extractions and two crowns). She refuses to floss, again because of the mint. Where does she get her cavities? In between her teeth. How to avoid? Flossing! We've used floss with and without wax, mint, cinnamon, fruit flavors, no flavors. Always a battle. These procedures alone will cost me over $5k and in my mind they are preventable expenses.
Looking around at the mess, being met with requests for yet more stuff, exhausted from caretaking, bracing for the additional financial burden, I lost it. I didn't scream. I didn't call her names. But I was harsh. I told her I simply could not continue to do and be everything for and to her. I told her I didn't have the energy to nag her every day to pick up her socks, then her shoes, her backpack, to charge the laptop, to make all the lunches, to decide what goes in the lunch (and breakfast and dinner). I told her that I some days I was so tired I didn't hold her accountable because I didn't want to deal with her and attitude. I told her I was angry, that I feel like I can't have a life because she wants constant entertainment from me, and if not that, then I'm too busy driving her to sports practices and parties, not able to make my own plans. She acts sad and hurt if I leave for a few hours to go to the grocery store and run errands on Sunday afternoon, but bitches if I make her come. I feel bad when I do leave her and those are things that need doing. Idk how I could ever feel okay leaving her to do something like go on a date or to take myself to a movie. I feel trapped by her and unless I'm buying her things or entertaining her, ignored. I was awful to her. Those are my feelings but I know I shouldn't have said those things out loud to her.
So what I came here to ask: are my expectations too high? Is it unreasonable to expect she keep up with those chores, take medicine as directed and brush teeth? Her school doesn't give homework, so that's not taking her time. I don't know how to get through to her.
Please don't come at me with any "she didn't ask to be born" comments or tell me what an awful parent I am. I've already done an outstanding job of beating myself up.

So according to this article, the original plan was presented by Khalid Sheikh Mohammed to Osama bin Laden in 1996 in Afghanistan which involved hijacking 10 planes and crashing 9 of them into the World Trade Center in New York City; The Pentagon, United States Capitol, CIA Headquarters, and FBI Headquarters in the DC metropolitan area; the US Bank Tower, in Los Angeles and Columbia Center in Seattle and an unspecified nuclear power plant. Mohammed, in the tenth plane, would then kill every adult male passenger and land in a US airport where he would then give a speech denouncing US policies on Israel, the Philippines, and other Arab nations before releasing the remaining passengers. Nothing came of the idea at the time, however, as bin Laden rejected the plan as being too elaborate.
But what if this plan was approved by bin Laden? How would things be different had a deadlier version of 9/11 happened a few years earlier? Would the US have responded any differently to this alternate 9/11?

Small rant incoming
Title, also still somewhat new to my street, so still getting the hang of how everything works around here. Already have a lot of crap to deal with and I don’t have time to ask a whole street of apartment buildings after studying and going to work. People keep taking bins out after collection day and taking any empty bin, causing everyone else to do the same until there aren’t any bins left. So there’s my lesson learned, I’ll probably write my street number in big, bold letters next time so people don’t miss it.
TL;DR where is everyone’s bin decorum 🥲

Hi y'all, this may be a stupid question but is it safe to store my smoothon products indoors, ie an office or bedroom? I rent a town house and we have a small garage space in the parking garage but it’s not temperature regulated so I was going to store materials inside but I can’t figure out if that is safe. The bottles are all closed and in a storage bin if that is relevant. I might just be being overly cautions but I thought I would ask. Thanks a bunch, I'm new to this world and having a lot of fun so far!

Hi, our site is about to have the first finger of ADTA completed.
They tested the warning alarms, but promised they will only go off when there's 65-100 parcels in the bin/skip, is this correct?
As the title suggest, any hints or tips for the new stowing roles?
Also, our stow trolley's are already falling apart (wonky wheels/detached handles), what impact will this have on the process?

Hi, relatively new to Docker.
I used to use an old shreddit script. The local install broke some time back but I now have it working in Docker after some hours of googling and learning. I start the container and can see it doing its thing in test mode. I got it from here:
https://github.com/kusold/Shreddit
When running locally, you can specify a user to erase comments for when you run shreddit:
/uslocal/bin/shreddit -u user1
/uslocal/bin/shreddit -u user2
etc.
I had a .command file that had a few of the above commands listed and put it on a cron. It would run shreddit for user1, user2, etc. then quit. I want to do the same from a cron on a Mac to call the Docker container.
I need help passing the -u user1 info to the container. I have been unsuccessful so far. In Docker Desktop, I can see it calls:

 "Cmd": [ "/uslocal/bin/shreddit" 

I can't edit that line to include multiple statements specfying -u user1, (and not sure I should do that but hey, trial and error and all...). Not seeing a clear answer with my Googles. I see mentions of env, but not sure how to proceed. Docker Desktop image and/or container do not seem editable.
A nudge in the right direction would be appreciated. I'm used to working with VM's and wrapping my head around how Docker works hasn't "clicked" yet.
Thanks.

Living in Jacksonville, FL.
A new property management company has bought the apartment buildings/complex I live at, probably about beginning to mid-April. We just got a notice on our doors this evening that states "The plumbing system here at (place) is not designed to handle toilet paper or baby wipes being flushed down the toilet." and they are asking us to "use a more appropriate disposal method such as a waste bin".
They go on to say "after today Thursday, May 16, 2024 all units that are not in compliance will get a fine". They did not have us sign a new lease, my lease is up in Nov., not sure about anyone else, but the company may try to add this into the new leases for people. Also, they posted this on the doors (at least mine and my neighbours') some time in the evening, my gf got home around 5:15pm and the notice was not there. So this is very extremely short notice.
This cannot be legal, right? They also go on to say "We will appreciate your prompt action in ensuring the proper maintenance of the property". Ummm, last I checked we are only responsible to maintain our apartment (or lose our deposit/be sued for damages in extreme cases), not the maintenance of the plumbing system, not the entire property.

Previously
I could not tell you exactly how I failed my semester. Everything was foggy. One thing for sure, I recalled spending more time with Al than with my studies. With her, I discovered the ins and outs of Boston: its neighborhoods and surrounding towns. She would take me to different areas to countless parties, hosted by her friends. We would sing reggae together, dance , drink, smoke marijuana, a lot of marijuana, and, afterwards, would go to her place, where we would sleep together a lot like rabbits. The only time I ever set foot in my dorm room was near the end of the semester, where I came across a stack of urgent notes from my academic advisor. These notes pertained to my parents and, particularly, their demands that I should “call them at once!”
It was through my parents that I learned about my academic failure for the semester and how I failed: not attending a single class. Prior to calling, my plan was to keep quiet like I normally had done before and let them do all the talking. That was supposed to be the plan.
Upon dialing, my mother picked up the phone after the first tone and, without exchanging any pleasantries, proceeded to blast me with her sweet voice and biting sarcasms. I was the son “scamming them out of their hard earned money” and one who was doing something that I was “finally more than average at,” making them “shameful parents.” I expected all of this from her, but what caught me off guard was the raw anger in her voice. Still, I stayed silent and listened as usual.
My father, on the other hand, was far angrier and did not mince his words with sarcasms. After my mother had said her piece, he took the phone and cussed me all the names he knew under the sun, even cussing me in his mother’s tongue. His anger made his nasal voice even more pronounced, making it difficult for me to remain silent compared to my mother's words. It felt like each word was a punch to the ear through the phone. I fought to keep my composure, but frustration surged within me.
"Mary, I bet this whole thing is all over some stupid asshole girl." That blew me up. I took it as a direct insult to Al. He hadn't even met her, hadn't seen her warm smile or her inviting eyes. He hadn't experienced her nonjudgmental nature or known how easy she was to talk to. Yet, he felt he had the right to insult her.
“So what the fuck it is!” I remembered yelling over the phone. I remembered there was a brief, deafening silence after I spoke, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Mind you, at this point, I was no longer the same Howard that my parents were used to talking down to. They were exposed to a rude awakening. A different Howard who had long thick dreadlocks that stopped at his knees and who could look you directly in the eye and cussed you out like a seaman.
“Mister man. I want you to pack your things and take the next plane back home.” It was the clearest I ever heard his voice, without even a hint of nasalness. I could also hear his heavy breaths, like a silverback just before it was about to beat his chest and charge at you.
“Bite me.” I had answered him and hung up. That was the last time I talked to my parents. I had many regrets in life and this was among the top ones. Looking back now, I probably should not have done what I did. First off, I probably should have called them when I was off sound mind or sober. I also underestimated how cold and unforgiving my parents could be, and how far they would go to maintain their family's image. I had two younger brothers and a toddler age sister. When I did not take that next plane back home, my parents, as far as they were concerned, still had a legacy that they could build up and make their name proud, even after they left this world. I was the first child: the mistake and experiment that they could learn from when rearing up my siblings.
Not surprisingly, I was kicked out of MIT as my parents did not pay for my next semester’s schooling. I did not care at the time. At least, I had my Al and she was nice enough to offer rooming to my bicycle, suitcase and I. We were officially together under one roof. Only this was not to be permanent.
About a month after moving in with Al, we found ourselves in a situation where we couldn't afford the rent and had to move out. Al had lost her job a few weeks earlier because she showed up to it high, a decision I blamed myself for since I had encouraged us to attend a party the previous night.
Living with Al's friends was initially a relief, a temporary solution to our housing predicament. But as the days turned into weeks, we began to overstay our welcome. Our presence became a burden, straining the patience and resources of those free spirits who had graciously taken us in. Eventually, we found ourselves with no place to call home, facing the harsh reality of homelessness.
During this period, finding work proved to be a near impossible challenge. Despite my best efforts, no employer wanted to even touch me. It was then that I truly understood my immigration status on a student visa and the obstacles it presented to securing employment. Until then, I had never considered or entertained such thoughts, leaving them up to my parents.
The idea of marrying Al for a green card never even crossed my mind. I refused to burden her with my problems or pressure her into such a life-altering decision. One way or the other way, I was going to find a solution on my own.
Though it looked like a grim reality check, strangely enough, Al and I were the happiest when we were homelessness. Freed from the burdens of parental or societal expectations, we embraced our status as free birds in the city, viewing it as our own personal playground.
If there was no luck at the soup kitchens, we would scavenge food from trash bins by restaurants. Surprisingly, we often stumbled upon untouched treasures like whole pizzas, pieces of chicken wings, discarded birthday cakes (often anniversary cakes), pies, and many other items. People's wastefulness became a lifeline for us, and we were deeply thankful for it.
Beyond mere survival, we reveled in the adventure of exploring the city's hidden corners. From navigating the labyrinthine subway tracks to stumbling upon alleys adorned with vibrant street art to sneaking into buildings with magnificent views of the city’s skyline, every discovery fueled our sense of wonder and curiosity. And we certainly were not shy to fool around in all these places as no place in the city was safe from our escapades: not the museums and not even the stadium.
But even with all the craziness and unpredictability, the most important thing about being homeless was the bond we shared. I fondly recall the nights spent huddled together under the stars in quiet parks, wrapped in blankets and sharing our dreams. Al wanted to go back to school to pursue nursing, while I had ambitions of completing my engineering degree at a community college. With that qualification, I hoped to secure a well-paying job that could sponsor both of us, paving the way for us to settle in a cozy home in the suburbs. There, we could begin our journey of building a family together. Each time I shared my dreams with Al, her left blue moon eye seemed to radiate with an illuminating glow, serving as a source of hope and strengthening my determination to believe that anything was possible.
Eventually, I managed to secure employment the other way: under the table at a slaughterhouse. But even with a steady income, my wages were barely enough to cover our basic needs, let alone secure permanent housing. However, luck seemed to smile upon us in an unexpected way.
At the slaughterhouse, I crossed paths with a fellow countryman named Archie, who had faced similar challenges with work status. Our shared nationality sparked instant camaraderie, and Archie eagerly offered his assistance upon learning about our homelessness. He revealed that he had a friend at the Port of Boston who could help us find shelter in one of the abandoned shipping containers there.
Archie assured me that living in a shipping container wasn't as bad as it sounded, sharing his own experience of finding temporary refuge in one upon arriving in America. He explained that as the weather cooled with the onset of fall, we wouldn't have to endure the sweltering heat of summer. However, he advised us to prepare for the winter chill with plenty of blankets and, even better, a portable heater. Despite its unconventional nature, it was a far better option than braving the elements out on the streets.
As Archie led Al and I through the lively Port of Boston, I couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude for his unexpected generosity. Here was a man who did not know me from Adam and was offering to help me and my woman, with no payment or strings attached.
We soon arrived at a secluded corner, where Archie introduced us to his friend, JJ. JJ was a short, stocky man with large muscular arms, a stark contrast to Archie's tall and malnourished skinny frame. Despite their physical differences, JJ exuded friendliness and kindness, much like Archie. He welcomed Al and I very warmly. Hence the reason, I could never forgive myself for what I did to him. That was also one of my biggest life regrets.
With a nod from JJ, we followed him to an abandoned shipping container nestled away from prying eyes. It was a hidden gem, shielded from the outside world by stacks of cargo containers. JJ assured us that it was a safe haven, far from the scrutiny of port workers.
As we settled into our new home, JJ's kindness continued to shine through. He provided us with port safety jackets, ensuring we could blend in seamlessly with the workers. He even offered his assistance if we encountered any issues, emphasizing that he was always available at the main loading dock during his night shifts.
The shipping container began to feel more like home with each passing day. Thanks to Archie and JJ's assistance, we were able to transport an old mattress, dresser, and milk crates— repurposed as shelves— from various junk sites and donation bins using JJ's cargo van. Despite the simplicity of our accommodations, the mere presence of these familiar items filled us with tremendous joy as we finally had a place to call our home.
Al's creative touch transformed the interior, adorning it with artificial bouquets she had found at a dump site. The vibrant colors breathed life into our makeshift home, infusing it with warmth and charm.
As we settled into our newfound sanctuary, a wave of relief washed over us. For the first time in months, we felt a sense of stability and security. With our basic needs finally met, we could now turn our attention to our goals for the future.
Eager to continue my education, I made plans to dedicate myself to finishing my engineering degree once the upcoming winter months had passed. Little did I know at the time that my student visa had already been canceled, making this goal completely impossible. Being a youth and all its naivety.
However, I never got the chance to find out about my visa status or even make the attempt to finish my education. At the start of winter, Al went missing.
Next Part 4 Preview:
It was a wicked, cold-blooded anger that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I tried to release my hands from his shirt, but it was too late. He seized my wrists like a vise grip and, in one swift motion before I had time to react, picked me up, slamming me onto the concrete.
/The Tragic Tale of Howard. A West African 9-Part Series short story about loss, second chance, betrayal and personal demons. By West African writer Josephine Dean /

Previously
I could not tell you exactly how I failed my semester. Everything was foggy. One thing for sure, I recalled spending more time with Al than with my studies. With her, I discovered the ins and outs of Boston: its neighborhoods and surrounding towns. She would take me to different areas to countless parties, hosted by her friends. We would sing reggae together, dance , drink, smoke marijuana, a lot of marijuana, and, afterwards, would go to her place, where we would sleep together a lot like rabbits. The only time I ever set foot in my dorm room was near the end of the semester, where I came across a stack of urgent notes from my academic advisor. These notes pertained to my parents and, particularly, their demands that I should “call them at once!”
It was through my parents that I learned about my academic failure for the semester and how I failed: not attending a single class. Prior to calling, my plan was to keep quiet like I normally had done before and let them do all the talking. That was supposed to be the plan.
Upon dialing, my mother picked up the phone after the first tone and, without exchanging any pleasantries, proceeded to blast me with her sweet voice and biting sarcasms. I was the son “scamming them out of their hard earned money” and one who was doing something that I was “finally more than average at,” making them “shameful parents.” I expected all of this from her, but what caught me off guard was the raw anger in her voice. Still, I stayed silent and listened as usual.
My father, on the other hand, was far angrier and did not mince his words with sarcasms. After my mother had said her piece, he took the phone and cussed me all the names he knew under the sun, even cussing me in his mother’s tongue. His anger made his nasal voice even more pronounced, making it difficult for me to remain silent compared to my mother's words. It felt like each word was a punch to the ear through the phone. I fought to keep my composure, but frustration surged within me.
"Mary, I bet this whole thing is all over some stupid asshole girl." That blew me up. I took it as a direct insult to Al. He hadn't even met her, hadn't seen her warm smile or her inviting eyes. He hadn't experienced her nonjudgmental nature or known how easy she was to talk to. Yet, he felt he had the right to insult her.
“So what the fuck it is!” I remembered yelling over the phone. I remembered there was a brief, deafening silence after I spoke, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Mind you, at this point, I was no longer the same Howard that my parents were used to talking down to. They were exposed to a rude awakening. A different Howard who had long thick dreadlocks that stopped at his knees and who could look you directly in the eye and cussed you out like a seaman.
“Mister man. I want you to pack your things and take the next plane back home.” It was the clearest I ever heard his voice, without even a hint of nasalness. I could also hear his heavy breaths, like a silverback just before it was about to beat his chest and charge at you.
“Bite me.” I had answered him and hung up. That was the last time I talked to my parents. I had many regrets in life and this was among the top ones. Looking back now, I probably should not have done what I did. First off, I probably should have called them when I was off sound mind or sober. I also underestimated how cold and unforgiving my parents could be, and how far they would go to maintain their family's image. I had two younger brothers and a toddler age sister. When I did not take that next plane back home, my parents, as far as they were concerned, still had a legacy that they could build up and make their name proud, even after they left this world. I was the first child: the mistake and experiment that they could learn from when rearing up my siblings.
Not surprisingly, I was kicked out of MIT as my parents did not pay for my next semester’s schooling. I did not care at the time. At least, I had my Al and she was nice enough to offer rooming to my bicycle, suitcase and I. We were officially together under one roof. Only this was not to be permanent.
About a month after moving in with Al, we found ourselves in a situation where we couldn't afford the rent and had to move out. Al had lost her job a few weeks earlier because she showed up to it high, a decision I blamed myself for since I had encouraged us to attend a party the previous night.
Living with Al's friends was initially a relief, a temporary solution to our housing predicament. But as the days turned into weeks, we began to overstay our welcome. Our presence became a burden, straining the patience and resources of those free spirits who had graciously taken us in. Eventually, we found ourselves with no place to call home, facing the harsh reality of homelessness.
During this period, finding work proved to be a near impossible challenge. Despite my best efforts, no employer wanted to even touch me. It was then that I truly understood my immigration status on a student visa and the obstacles it presented to securing employment. Until then, I had never considered or entertained such thoughts, leaving them up to my parents.
The idea of marrying Al for a green card never even crossed my mind. I refused to burden her with my problems or pressure her into such a life-altering decision. One way or the other way, I was going to find a solution on my own.
Though it looked like a grim reality check, strangely enough, Al and I were the happiest when we were homelessness. Freed from the burdens of parental or societal expectations, we embraced our status as free birds in the city, viewing it as our own personal playground.
If there was no luck at the soup kitchens, we would scavenge food from trash bins by restaurants. Surprisingly, we often stumbled upon untouched treasures like whole pizzas, pieces of chicken wings, discarded birthday cakes (often anniversary cakes), pies, and many other items. People's wastefulness became a lifeline for us, and we were deeply thankful for it.
Beyond mere survival, we reveled in the adventure of exploring the city's hidden corners. From navigating the labyrinthine subway tracks to stumbling upon alleys adorned with vibrant street art to sneaking into buildings with magnificent views of the city’s skyline, every discovery fueled our sense of wonder and curiosity. And we certainly were not shy to fool around in all these places as no place in the city was safe from our escapades: not the museums and not even the stadium.
But even with all the craziness and unpredictability, the most important thing about being homeless was the bond we shared. I fondly recall the nights spent huddled together under the stars in quiet parks, wrapped in blankets and sharing our dreams. Al wanted to go back to school to pursue nursing, while I had ambitions of completing my engineering degree at a community college. With that qualification, I hoped to secure a well-paying job that could sponsor both of us, paving the way for us to settle in a cozy home in the suburbs. There, we could begin our journey of building a family together. Each time I shared my dreams with Al, her left blue moon eye seemed to radiate with an illuminating glow, serving as a source of hope and strengthening my determination to believe that anything was possible.
Eventually, I managed to secure employment the other way: under the table at a slaughterhouse. But even with a steady income, my wages were barely enough to cover our basic needs, let alone secure permanent housing. However, luck seemed to smile upon us in an unexpected way.
At the slaughterhouse, I crossed paths with a fellow countryman named Archie, who had faced similar challenges with work status. Our shared nationality sparked instant camaraderie, and Archie eagerly offered his assistance upon learning about our homelessness. He revealed that he had a friend at the Port of Boston who could help us find shelter in one of the abandoned shipping containers there.
Archie assured me that living in a shipping container wasn't as bad as it sounded, sharing his own experience of finding temporary refuge in one upon arriving in America. He explained that as the weather cooled with the onset of fall, we wouldn't have to endure the sweltering heat of summer. However, he advised us to prepare for the winter chill with plenty of blankets and, even better, a portable heater. Despite its unconventional nature, it was a far better option than braving the elements out on the streets.
As Archie led Al and I through the lively Port of Boston, I couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude for his unexpected generosity. Here was a man who did not know me from Adam and was offering to help me and my woman, with no payment or strings attached.
We soon arrived at a secluded corner, where Archie introduced us to his friend, JJ. JJ was a short, stocky man with large muscular arms, a stark contrast to Archie's tall and malnourished skinny frame. Despite their physical differences, JJ exuded friendliness and kindness, much like Archie. He welcomed Al and I very warmly. Hence the reason, I could never forgive myself for what I did to him. That was also one of my biggest life regrets.
With a nod from JJ, we followed him to an abandoned shipping container nestled away from prying eyes. It was a hidden gem, shielded from the outside world by stacks of cargo containers. JJ assured us that it was a safe haven, far from the scrutiny of port workers.
As we settled into our new home, JJ's kindness continued to shine through. He provided us with port safety jackets, ensuring we could blend in seamlessly with the workers. He even offered his assistance if we encountered any issues, emphasizing that he was always available at the main loading dock during his night shifts.
The shipping container began to feel more like home with each passing day. Thanks to Archie and JJ's assistance, we were able to transport an old mattress, dresser, and milk crates— repurposed as shelves— from various junk sites and donation bins using JJ's cargo van. Despite the simplicity of our accommodations, the mere presence of these familiar items filled us with tremendous joy as we finally had a place to call our home.
Al's creative touch transformed the interior, adorning it with artificial bouquets she had found at a dump site. The vibrant colors breathed life into our makeshift home, infusing it with warmth and charm.
As we settled into our newfound sanctuary, a wave of relief washed over us. For the first time in months, we felt a sense of stability and security. With our basic needs finally met, we could now turn our attention to our goals for the future.
Eager to continue my education, I made plans to dedicate myself to finishing my engineering degree once the upcoming winter months had passed. Little did I know at the time that my student visa had already been canceled, making this goal completely impossible. Being a youth and all its naivety.
However, I never got the chance to find out about my visa status or even make the attempt to finish my education. At the start of winter, Al went missing.
Next Part 4 Preview:
It was a wicked, cold-blooded anger that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I tried to release my hands from his shirt, but it was too late. He seized my wrists like a vise grip and, in one swift motion before I had time to react, picked me up, slamming me onto the concrete.
/The Tragic Tale of Howard. A West African 9-Part Series short story about loss, second chance, betrayal and personal demons. By West African writer Josephine Dean /