Let me tell a story: Went to a job fair at the Amsterdam Brewhouse in Toronto last week. Had my interview w/the Assistant GM. He asked me 2 questions that I thought were important "what does hospitality/customer service mean to you" & explain what the process of bringing plates to the table, knowing the menu, what's in the food, how the food is made, allergies". Interviewed continuted & the AGM said to me "thier might be potional here, something to work with, let me give you my business card which I never do, & call me Wednesday. In my head I thinking I got this. This Wednesday I called, the Assistant GM, introduced myself again, he said "there's paperwork to do, blah, blah, blah, send me an email. I sent an email, couple hours later, no response, Thursday morning sent another email, couple hours later, received a response. "Thanks for the phone call & email we went with someone else". After all that I was furious

So to provide some context, I (28F) recently started a law firm with my mom, who is an attorney. I was working on my own business at the time, but when my mom’s paralegal up and left her right before Christmas, she needed help, plus I had experience starting a business and was previously in the legal field, so I agreed to come on as her legal assistant/business helpeetc. We agreed on a set weekly amount for pay, which wasn’t crazy high but solid and I felt like I could use the opportunity to help my mom build something lucrative after leaving her old firm (where she was severely monetarily taken advantage of, and is going to have to sue her old business partners for what they owe her + her partner investment at the old firm, but that’s a story for another day) The thing is, I was wary going into this my mom would not be able to financially keep our agreement, because she has big dreams and ideas but doesn’t always take the practical steps in terms of things like budgeting (the fights and struggles this has caused in my house between my parents my whole life and the financial issues we’ve experienced as a result have shown me she has no plans on changing this but I am also empathetic because she is crazy busy and my other siblings, one who is severely mentally ill and lives at home, take up an insane amount of time)
Now I want to hammer in that my mom is a good person, with a big heart. My dad is a good person too, which is why I feel this situation is so difficult for me to navigate. They have their issues and personally to me, seem to act like children in many ways in how conflicts are handled and how they emotionally react (my mom especially, she cares so much how people feel about her but doesn’t realize that her fuse is short and she will just yell and scream at everyone) They have not had an easy set of cards dealt to them in regards to all of us kids and the individual issues, and I have always had so much empathy for them. However, the older I’ve gotten and more I’ve experienced, the more I realize a lot of the issues we had growing up, whether it was financial or my siblings behavior and issues, probably could’ve been handled in a much healthier way which would’ve saved a lot of the pain experienced by continuing the cycles and behaviors that were causing the issues in the first place. My parents stayed married, but basically tolerated one another and never had a united front, were always talking bad about one another and could never agree on proper ways to fix what was happening, so it was a chaotic mess all the time, where the more difficult kids were enabled and it felt like those of us who actually had more of our shit together, were just expected to either help with it or just deal with the fact they didn’t have time for us because of the time my siblings took up. An example of this would be when I was in college, I was on a full scholarship (full tuition, but not room and board) because of my academic and athletic scholarship, so I ran track and XC to help pay for school. I worked two jobs as well to pay for my rent, and barely slept as I was in pre-med. I am the oldest of the 6 kids in my family, and in my family, I was the good kid. I didn’t ask for much, always figured my stuff out, etc. They “never needed to worry about me” so they didn’t. However, during that time when it went to school, my dad lost his job and my parents were fighting more and more. My siblings had less tolerance for their “bullshit” but they also fought each other because of the issues at home. Therefore, they began to struggle a lot. My mom was always borrowing money from me and I had no idea when I’d get it back. I would struggle and could barely afford my NEEDS. I barely bought books I needed and would often be finding ways to take pictures of my friend’s books, etc. Anyway, this was consistent and even to the point where I could not buy myself the sashes and what not for my graduation (I was in the honors courses, extracurricular, scholar athlete, Greek life, graduated top of my class for my major etc) because my mom had borrowed almost 1000 from me…and gave it to my sister who was studying abroad. This sister has never cared about taking my parents money or caring about how their financial situation affects everyone. She has since been diagnosed with BPD…I get that I have some unresolved family issues, so that may be coming out as I type here, but I also wanted to provide context into why I feel the way I do. I was also heavily parentified being the oldest, with an extreme sense of responsibility, even as an adult, for the well being of my siblings and parents. I have”sacrificed” (I say it in quotes because I know it was my choice and I take responsibility, but looking back I don’t agree with how it was all handled and felt my parents should’ve been more of the adults and allowed me to try and build my young adult like without the burden of caring for children that were not mine) a lot of time, money and opportunity so I could focus on trying to “save “ them (I have gone over this complex I have in therapy and I’m still working through it, but take responsibility for my actions in perpetuating the cycle)
I could go into more detail about the difficulties and struggles my parents face, and how life has gotten harder and harder for them. My mom is an enabler because she has trouble with people disliking her, yet burns bridges with people who genuinely care because she ends up accidentally taking advantage of them to focus on for example, her kids who are not actually doing anything to help and causing more issues in the family. My siblings are beginning to hate her, threaten to cut her off from meeting her future grandkids, etc I will be on the last line for cutting her off, because I genuinely believe she is such a loving person who has never been able to totally focus on her and has just been running on fumes for years. However, through therapy I’ve also come to recognize she is an adult who has had the opportunity to change her behavior (my dad too) to try and get a more positive outcome, but they have chosen to remain stubborn, and say it is because they have no time, but that part just isn’t true, it would take a lot of work and reorganizing at this point, but changes could be made. I have literally bought my mom therapy appointments, set them up, (I control her calendar for work so I know when she’s free and I handle all business scheduling so I know what appointments are important to the firm so I try to schedule when we have a few days without major deadlines) and my mom still says she is too busy
Anyway, finally to the point of this post, my mom owes me over 10k in promised payment, and I have been working full time. She has given me the amount I’ve needed to pay my half of the rent at my place (I live with my partner, who is genuinely shocked at the behavior of my parents and our family dynamics, but is very loving and supporting regardless, even to my family) but besides that, I’ve just been floundering. I don’t know where the money goes after we bill, but my mom is always complaining we don’t have money in the account. However she has not forgotten she owes me, and always brings up how she wants to get me paid, but I am continuing to struggle and don’t know when that will happen. I know she will, but when? The other aspect of this is my sister (the one with BPD) just graduated law school and was supposed to help us with the firm to help pay for her bar prep and bar fees, but she has managed to avoid work and I know my mom is just going to pay for it all anyway. However, I’m not mad cause I’m very proud of my sister and what she has accomplished with her mental health struggles however, that means her work has fallen into me, and not only am I helping with my duties and hers,I am expected to set up all the automations in the firm, handle all the schedules and set up a business for success. That takes time on top of all I am doing, and my mom gets easily frustrated with technology and things and complains this should all be easier and we should get it set up to be automated, have draft emails, etc . I tell her that takes time and money, but she has this idea we can just hire someone to take on the extra work but I’m not even being paid right now, so even the money that could potentially go to me, the person working full time, would be given to a VA to help push the firm forward. I would be okay with that if I really believed we were on our way to making a successful sful, lucrative business, but because of all the issues at home, my mom has barely been able to work. She is emotional and has a short fuse a lot, and it’s hard for me to keep things moving when I need an attorney to do most of the big thing clients pay for when working with a firm. Now she has gotten ill (which I am so upset about but my guess is it is due to stress) and has been out of work for two weeks besides hitting deadlines that need to be hit, she will call me screaming , crying (edit since input syringe instead of crying the first time) that she can’t do this anymore, can’t do the firm, etc. But then being happy and excited the very next day. I always tell her I just want her happy and to take care of herself, but she needs to let me know so I can find new work and build my life. I feel stuck in limbo and know I need to take actions to help myself, but I still wanted to try and help my mom as much as possible and see if the firm could still be built. However, yesterday my non working sister (studying for the bar) called me to show me the new outfits she had gotten and how she was going to go out with some friends, I love those types of calls from my sister but it made me realize my mom was still giving her money, fun money not just get ready for the bar money, and I’m here struggling and my partner is picking up the slack. One of my brothers, who I have lent money to multiple times in the last few months (he always pays me back in a timely manner) who said he couldn’t afford to do things he wanted and had to sell his EDC ticket, is now at EDC and my mom has no money in her account so my guess is she helped him. My dad works too so they are surviving, but she complains about the mortgage and bills to me a lot, so I feel guilty adding to her stress especially with her being sick, but I’m kind of at the end of my rope here after seeing she is still not prioritizing paying her employee (even if I am her daughter and have a lot of empathy for the situation)
I know I wrote a lot but I feel like I could have provided so much more context. Once she is feeling better I know I’m going to have another talk with her, but I don’t know if I should just say I’m done once we finish up our current case load and to not bring on any more clients unless she hires someone else cause I feel she’d be more likely to pay them. I want to believe it could be different and my mom could figure out how to build this firm professionally going forward, but I just don’t know if I’m being idealistic. Anyways, I do really wish I could get the money I’m owed to put into my own business that I have put on hold to do this (thinking I could help my mom AND save some money to put towards my own business which my mom was on board with and wanted because she sees the firm as a way to help all the kids finance their own dreams, and she really means that which is one example of why I say my mom is genuinely a good and kind person who loves her kids) part of me wants to say that if she wants to keep saying she “can’t do this” anymore that I am quitting and I hope she takes the time to focus on taking care of herself because I can’t stand by and watch her do the same stuff that will stress her into an early grave which genuinely scares me but is how I feel. Granted even if she isn’t working she is kind of addicted to stress so it may not change anything but there is part of me that hopes it would. Plus, they obviously need the money so it is probably just wishful thinking.
Anyway, sorry for the ramble, maybe I needed to get my feelings out, but I am wondering if anyone has any advice? Have you been in a situation like this and how did you handle it? Please be kind to my parents, but truthful as any help would be appreciated.
TLDR Summary
Busy Mom of 6 with good heart is my employer and has not paid me what is owed, but spends money on my siblings and has a history of doing things like this. I know she is struggling financially. How do I approach her and what is my best course of action to resolve and help versus just being harsh and cutting it all off?

I have a family member whose finances (and other affairs) I’ll be handling while they are incarcerated. I’ve obtained a power of attorney on their behalf.
This person has lots of debt, over $40,000 in credit card, personal loan, and vehicle financing. I’m at a bit of a loss as to what my first course of action should be. There is no income and no one would be able to take on any of the debts. The person doesn’t have any dependents.
I sort of looked into filing for bankruptcy, but not really clear whether this would be the best option. If I let all his debts default, then his credit history would zero out anyway, correct? The person won’t need any credit any time soon anyway and in the future when the time comes, I may be the one who makes decisions and responsible for them (they will be my dependent).
Any and all suggestions welcome.

Me [21 F] and my boyfriend [21 M] have known each other since high school. We just recently had a baby together and things have been pretty good considering that having a baby is extremely difficult for first time parents. Figuring out the dynamics and adjusting to a new human is unsurprisingly draining, but I do love it because I love my son. However, some issues that have been going on with my partner have been bothering me especially lately because I don’t think I addressed them while I was pregnant to not put stress on the baby while he was in my stomach, if that makes sense. I used to let tons of things slide. When I first found out I was pregnant it was around May. I had severe morning sickness and couldn’t work so he went to work at his regular job and another job to keep up with the rent and the car. It was a struggle with my mental health because I was always throwing up and angry because I was tired of it and couldn’t get relief. While you think he’d have patience for me because I was so sick, he absolutely did not. It was a situation where I was constantly trying to explain to him what I was going through and he just nodded said a few things that I might want to hear and kept going on with his day. He was annoyed I was in bed all day, annoyed I wouldn’t eat anything and went to the extent of telling me I was dramatic. I was too drained to argue so I let it slide. My birthday is in July and his in June so while I was almost at the peak of my sickness period we celebrated his birthday by going out with his siblings. Then, on my birthday he worked because he didn’t tell his jobs ahead of time that he couldn’t work so we did nothing for my birthday. I was alone in the dark room throwing up my guts for 12 hours while he was at work. I understood, I let him know about it being hurtful but I did kind of understand. It bothers me today but what can I do now that it’s over? Just remember it. Fast forward to me giving birth. We have two dogs at home who are crate trained so whenever we leave they sleep in the crate. We live an hour and a half away from the hospital I was giving birth at so while I was actively having contractions after being induced, he starts telling me about five hrs after having gotten back from the apartment to walk the dogs that he’s going to go again. However at this specific time he was saying that I was in a tremendous amount of pain, even with the epidural. I wasn’t hysterical but I was telling him to not leave me because what if I had the baby while he was gone. Then, he got mad at me and said I was being inconsiderate about the dogs because they needed to go to the bathroom but with perfect timing, the doctors came in and told me it was time to start pushing. I was upset he was just on his phone worried about the dogs while I was literally giving birth to our son and in pain, but all I could do is let him know it was pretty upsetting and let it go. Now, four months later I’m bothered because I was Mother’s Day, my first ever Mother’s Day and he didn’t give me a card, write me a letter, or even just sit with me and do an activity even though I reminded him about a week ahead of time. It’s just so much things that he does that make me feel he is insensitive and not really interested in making things special or taking the time to be comforting to me. His response is always “well I was going to do something but I didn’t have time” or “I’m sorry I forgot it’s because I really can’t take the day off for your birthday” or “well the dogs had to go to the bathroom what do you want me to do”. I love my dogs but because my family chose not to come and help me through the birth I couldn’t take the chance of giving birth alone in case something happened to me or my newborn. What should I do? I’ve had through discussions about this bothering me and I get the same lame excuse and even an attitude when I mention these things. It’s notable to say that I know he does love me. He does do things for me like cook and clean and obviously go to work but even after emphasizing that I do want special things he doesn’t do them.

The bright yellow terror

‘’Every now and then I would stare at the murky brown water below and see several small glimpses of bright yellow popping up from and then retreating down below the surface in rhythmic fashion. Like a dance routine. Bright deadly yellow. The rotting sweet stench of death still lodged in my nostrils.’’
I had happened upon these diary pages by mistake when I was digging through old boxes in my basement. My wife had insisted, finally, that I sort out and get rid of everything I didn’t need. Now here I was, confronted with a part of my past I had tried to suppress unsuccessfully for so many years. 24 years to be exact. 24 odd years of trying to understand what exactly happened in those days when I was trapped on a rooftop in Phuket during a deadly and disastrous natural catastrophe.
24 odd years of having to dodge around questions of my abject and unwavering fear of the ocean. Well, in truth, I guess being caught in a large tsunami and witnessing immense destructive forces of nature coming directly from the great wide ocean would be a fair excuse, but it was only half the truth. It wasn’t just the waves themselves that had terrified me.
Until now, I thought the water damaged remains of the diary I kept back then was lost. I even hoped it was. I never shared this story with anyone. Partly because the horror was too fresh in my memory back then and I wanted to focus on moving on with my life and by the time I felt my mind was stabilized I had no real interest in returning to that dark part of my past. Partly because the right words always escaped me.
Mostly because I was afraid people would think I was insane. I can no longer contain this, however. I need an outlet. I spend years running from it. But I guess I can’t lie to myself anymore. Someone once told me that writing can be therapeutic. Simply putting your thoughts down on paper, or in our times, more likely in word document, can help you compartmentalize trauma. So, I’m giving it a try. I can’t pretend the events of those days in Phuket didn’t cast a shadow over everything in my life that came after.
I often think of the beach days I missed with my son when he was a boy. Days where I should’ve done dad stuff. Thrown him into the ocean. Watched him laugh his little face of as he braved the waves. Helped him build sandcastles. Gone exploring along the sandy shores in search of beached treasure in the form little rocks and the odd piece of amber. I just couldn’t. Initially I had objected to the idea of him going at all. Naturally, my wife would hear none of that and I realized reluctantly, that my fear and trauma should not rule my son’s life. Instead, my wife would go, and I would always stay home. She understood, to some degree, what I had gone through and where my fear came from.
Only to some degree. My son did not, and I fear he resented my absence on those perfect sunny days, despite my efforts to make up for it with other activities. Both he and my wife certainly noticed how closed off I was about certain parts of my past. Secrets untold, especially those who are grounded in trauma, almost inevitably turns to toxic in our systems. I’m finally ready. I just hope it isn’t too late.
I won’t lie. I’ve always had a vivid imagination although I have never had trouble distinguishing between what is real and what is not. At least until my sense of reality was forever challenged. I know these things happened to me. I know what I saw and what I experienced was real. I just don’t have a truly rational explanation for it. Yet, I swear, there was something in the water that came with that tsunami. Something deeply, deeply unnatural. Something brightly and oddly yellow. I had no other word for it than the bright yellow terror.
I had travelled to Thailand, more precisely Bangkok late December 2000. 19 years old about to turn 20. I was on one of those infamous and increasingly popular self-discovery trips. I had caught the fever. Like so many other young hopeful adventurers at the time I had seen The Beach. I had read into the wild by Jon Krakauer.
I watched Dicaprio walk the sandy shores of paradise and read on in excitement and awe as Christopher McCandles set out to become one with nature and discover himself. Kill the false being within and all that. In simple terms, I thought I’d try and find my own slice of heaven on earth. Expand my horizon. Get to know some new people. Learn something about myself in the process perhaps. I wasn’t exactly fleeing from anything, that wasn’t it. I had a loving although cuddling and overprotective family. Especially my mom would worry about me constantly (and still does).
Yes, I admit it. My parents had paved the way for me at almost every step. Made sure I got into the right schools. Made sure I never needed for money. I guess I got tired of feeling dependent on them. I stopped taking their money and saved up for the trip myself. It was time I stepped up. It was time I threw myself into the world to see what would happen. Hell of a time and place I picked for that.
The following story is based on the surviving pages of the diary I kept during the time and my own memory.
Bangkok 23rd December 2000. 4 days before the tsunami.
‘’My first day in Bangkok. Quite overwhelming but in a nice way. No one here to save me. No one here to tell me what to do. Thailand is hot and humid and there’s something in the air. I think it’s adventure. I think it’s limitless opportunity. I met a monkey in a diaper and got thoroughly beaten and lost 100 bath in a game of connect four by some 10-year-old kid. Got scammed as well though, I will have to wise up and learn the ropes. Avoid the yellow taxis. Go for the Tuk Tuks. Well, lesson learned. I met a guy who told me all kinds of terrifying things about Australia. Robert. I’m meeting him in Phuket a couple of days from now.’’
You could probably imagine the excitement bubbling within me. For the first time on my own. 19 years old. Prime of my life. In a strangely new and exotic city. Possibilities seemed endless. I still remember vividly driving off with the wind in my hair in a tuk-tuk as Bangkok unfolded before me with all its oriental mysticism and surrounding cityscapes. To be fair, I had never even seen an honest to god palm tree before as they simply couldn’t grow in the northern climate I was from.
I got myself stationed in a decent guesthouse around Khaosan Road. Everywhere I looked it seems others had gotten the same idea as me. Backpackers littered the streets and in a strange way, I felt at home amidst this quiet chaos, amidst the crowds of hopefully likeminded explorers, far, far away from home. The humidity was hitting me though, it was something I would have to get used to. It felt like a wet hot invisible blanket. Khaosan Road was perfect for me. A meeting place for young backpackers, with tons of opportunities to plan further travels. I did after all, not plan on staying in Bangkok for too long. It was just a stepping point to other adventures.
It was still early, and the humidity was clammy as hell. I was in the mood to socialize and with no real plans I simply ventured out into the streets of Bangkok, circling around the area where my guesthouse was located. It wasn’t long before the first opportunity presented itself in the form of a taxi driver calling me over. He offered to take me on a tour of the city. Foolish and naïve as I was, I indulged him. I remember how the cab driver lit up a doobie, joint, spliff, devil’s lettuce whatever you want to call it.
You know it as soon as you breathe in the air. Don’t get me wrong, I smoked myself, but letting a clearly high person drive me around the busy Bangkok traffic did not seem like a good idea. I should probably have asked to be let out that very moment, but as the kind of timid, shy type of person I was plus the desire to just go along with whatever happened come what may made me stay. Unsurprisingly I was eventually led to a store, fitted for a suit a didn’t want, and then subsequently charged an obscene amount for the cab ride. I didn’t have the courage to refuse his unreasonable demand. Noteworthy mention. That same night I heard from a fellow traveler that just recently someone had been stabbed in an argument with a cab driver. I didn’t let it get me down or drive me off course, because as you’ve probably gathered by now, I didn’t have a course.
As day turned to night and when the sun’s rays slowly disappeared behind the rooftops of Bangkok, the city itself began to transform. As if a part of it which had laid dormant, hidden away from the light, started to emerge.
Neon lights advertising different bars, people making all kinds of promises of untold pleasures and sensations. Tourists ready to party. All now filled the streets. Some seemed all too aware of what they were looking for, others simply drifted around aimlessly, in search of something unknown, something to spice up their existence. I found a small seemingly cool place called The Hangover. I swear to god, I wish to this day I hadn’t. Maybe then I wouldn’t have set my course for Phuket. In any case, I went in and pushed myself through the crowds of rowdy and loud tourists and up the bar where I ordered a Pina Colada. Please don’t judge me. I just really like coconuts and the song is pretty good as well. Standing at the crowded bar and looking around, hoping something interesting would catch my eye. But most of all, I was hoping someone would just take the first step and come talk to me.
Someone did. His name was Robert, and he was from Australia. A tall skinny and no-nonsense older guy who seemed quite experienced with all things Thailand. He eventually invited me down to his group of friends at the far back end of the bar. Robert spared no time telling me about himself. He had worked all kinds of jobs, in all kinds of places. Most recently he had worked as a guide in Phuket. Among other things he had arranged rock climbing expeditions. I probably forgot to mention, I was big into rock climbing and generally all kinds of outdoor activities back then.
I already had quite the climbing experience despite my young age. As Robert talked about all the places he’d been, he made me feel like the novice I was. That was never his intention though, as I quickly learned. He wasn’t a bragger. He just knew what he was talking about and when he laughed, he did it with his entire face and in a way that made you laugh with him and feel comfortable.
Eventually the conversation naturally gravitated towards Australia. A place I had always wanted to visit. He looked at me for a second, as if to contemplate something. Then told me to watch out for locals trying to play pranks on me. I was naturally interested in hearing more and that’s when he told me about drop bears. Supposedly drop bears are carnivorous versions of Koalas residing in trees to then drop down on unsuspecting victims and viciously attack them. We laughed quite a lot, and I admitted I would probably have believed the stories as I was a fairly naive person and the idea of hostile subspecies of koalas didn’t seem that farfetched to me. It would be typical of past me to get punked around like that. Our conversation then shifted towards Australian wildlife and fauna and the horrors residing within its diverse and complicated eco system. He told me about a plant not uncommonly referred to as the suicide plant. Dendrocnide moroides or more commonly known as stinging tree, stinging bush or gympie gympie apparently has such a nasty and painful sting it made a man commit suicide simply to escape the pain. Another dangerous inhabitant was the box jellyfish he explained.
Their sting was about as deadly as it gets. A single sting to a human will cause necrosis of the skin, excruciating pain and, if the dose of venom is large enough, cardiac arrest and death within minutes. I have always found jellyfish equal parts fascinating and equal parts frightening. Beautiful but deadly creatures. In fact, the ocean, in all its grand wide-reaching glory had always horrified me to some extent. So much unexplored space. Who truly knows what could be lurking down there? Robert quickly assured me, that as long as you take your precaution the likelihood of getting stung by a box jellyfish was rather small. They had signs up warning people against them. Generally, do not ignore these signs. They are there for a good reason.
It was getting late and before we said our goodbyes Robert suggested I meet him in Phuket, more precisely in the Khao Lak area on the 28^th as that was the first day he would be able to. I thought why not? He seemed genuinely nice and knowledgeable. Just good company all around and he promised to show me the greatest climbing spots a bit away from the crowded tours. It was a start.
I would never meet Robert again. I don’t know what happened to him. Thinking back on those days leading up to the point the waves came crashing down always gives me an uneasy, sad, and melancholic feeling. The people I met in Bangkok talking about going south. Those I met in Phuket before it happened. I have no idea if they ended up as corpses floating through the murky brown waters or god forbid, victims of that unholy terror from the deep. I hope Robert wasn’t among those unfortunate souls who died or went… ‘’Missing’’. Although if I must pick one or the other. I would hope he died quickly.
Bangkok 24^th of December 2000. 3 days before the tsunami.
I woke up with a slight hangover. Christmas is commonly celebrated on this date in my country, so I was expecting some calls to go through on my brick sized Nokia at some point once all the good folks back home woke up. They were about 5 hours behind me and at 9 AM Bangkok time they would still be sleeping. I used the time to do some shopping before my trip to Phuket. I got plenty of rope, a couple of snap hooks and a harness. I knew they’d have all of this on the guided tours, but I liked to find my own spots to climb, and I had good sense and knowledge enough to not attempt anything too daring. By the way. For those uninitiated, snap hooks are used to make a quick, reversible connection on a system of ropes, or to connect a rope or cord to another component, like a lanyard medallion or barrier post. Essential if you want to go climbing. If you’ve ever gone ziplining it’s the thing that connects you safely to the zipline and lets you slight across.
After having done my shopping, I bought a bus ticket to Phuket intending on leaving that same night and went back to my hotel room. As exciting as Bangkok was, I felt it was more for people intend on partying and in all honesty, a bit too crowded for me. I was excited to move on and I could always come back if I wanted to. On my way into the reception area, I was stopped by a young hip looking dude looking for a cigarette. Now I don’t necessarily consider myself a perfect judge of character, but he had an easy-going way about him that immediately drew me in. Sometimes, you can just tell.
He had sort of a rugged look about him. Dirty blond half-long hair. His face I would best describe as boyish but something in his eyes betrayed him and revealed his age to be older than you would assume. His style was… Boheme I guess I would describe it as. Like something taken out of the 70s LA scene. I’m not a smoker. Never was. So, I couldn’t help him on that front. It didn’t matter he would find someone else he said. For a while we just casually talked. Apparently, he had come to Bangkok just a few days prior and seemed about as lost and without direction as I had been before deciding on taking my chances in Phuket. Alex was his name, and he would later save my life and help me understand what it means to forge a quick and unbreakable connection through shared trauma, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
He asked me if I wanted to go somewhere and get a beer. I thought why not? He was about my age and on his own as well. I told him I had to go make some calls and I’d be out in about an hour. Back the hotel room I quickly gathered all my stuff and packed it up, so it was ready to go. My climbing gear took up the most space. I figured if things went well with Alex, I might be able to persuade him in joining me at some point in Phuket. Even though I had set out for this trip to be about discovering myself and being on my own, I longed for some kind of company. Don’t we all? I called my parents up and we wished each other a happy Christmas. It was odd to think they were somewhere nearly half-way across the world celebrating Christmas while snow draped the landscapes there. Here I was, In hot and humid paradise. No, I did not miss the cold or the snow, but I did miss not being there to celebrate the holidays with my family. But it had been my choice to go during the holiday season and I did not regret it. I had saved up enough money and there was no point in waiting anymore. There would be many other holidays to celebrate in the future.
My 5-year-old nephew somehow got a hold of the phone. Not quite the conversationalist yet, it still felt good to hear his voice. Hearing his excitement over the prospect of celebrating Christmas brought me back to my own childhood. Decorating the Christmas tree, watching holiday cartoons and of course, opening presents. I finished my calls and went out to see if Alex was ready. He was already waiting for me and had apparently managed to score some cigarettes in the meantime. He had changed his outfit as well. Now wearing a faded black doors t-shirt. We talked a bit about Jim Morrison and the doors as we headed off down streets. We passed a myriad of small stands selling everything from electronics to colorful t-shirts and small bracelets with campy misspelled English catchphrases. We dodged the many intrusive offers and eventually found a small comfy looking bar with seats outside shaded by palm trees. We ordered a couple of beers and the conversation started flowing along quite nicely. Alex was 25 and from London It turned out. We also had a common interest in music. For a while he had busked as a street musician while working odd jobs here and there and had eventually decided to travel the world.
His first stop had been India where for a while he had lived on the rooftop of some abandoned building while attempting to learn the art of playing the sitar. I thought about that for a second. Living it rough on some rooftop in India. I don’t know why that idea intrigued me so much. Seemed like freedom to me, I guess. Sleeping under the wide-open skies. Looking down on the streets and watching people go about their lives. I guess I just liked the idea of doing something that seemed different from what I had ever done before. Living on a rooftop, if even just for a while, was definitely not something I had done before. There was the view as well, Alex reminded me. And it was free of course. We drifted off into long conversations about music I won’t bore you too much with, only to let you know we shared a passion for old school music like the doors and Jimi Hendrix as well as 90s shoegaze music like My Bloody Valentine, Ride and Slowdive. I had Slowdive’s Shine playing in my mind that day. All felt so dreamy at the time.
I eventually told Alex of my plans to go to Phuket and he was onboard almost immediately. I loved how easy it was here on the road. There was no ‘’well maybe’’, or ‘’let’s think about it.’’ In fact, Alex had been to Phuket before and knew of a place we could stay for free. Another rooftop of course, but he had already sold me on the idea. From there, we could plan our next step he said. ‘’our next step’’ I don’t remember vibing with someone that quickly before or since, but then I guess making friends is always easier when you’re young and easy going. I always seemed to attract good company without much effort back then. I chalk it down to my friendly and slightly shy demeanor. Seems it only becomes harder to make friends as the years pass though. At least for me it did.
We got a bus ticket for Alex and shopped a bit more. I got some first aid supplies. Bandages, plasters, that kind of stuff. Rock climbing is safe, mind you, but you can end up scraping yourself and I felt in general, being prepared for whatever might be a good idea if I was to live it rough on some rooftop. The bus-ride to Phuket took about 12 hours give or take. By going at night, we could sleep most of the way and be in Phuket early morning on the 25^th. The trip down was uneventful. We would take turns listening to music on Alex’s Walkman or talk about things we saw along the way. Like roadside bars and restaurants who were little more than a tin roof covering a few plastic chairs and brightly colored menu cards. Everything seemed simpler here, in the best ways possible.
No big flash, no fanfares or luxury. Nothing pretentious. Just a calm, laid back atmosphere and friendly smiles from the locals as we passed by. Alex told me he wanted to start a band blending elements of Shoegaze with classic rock and insisted I learn to play the drums as he had tried but found no luck. String instruments were more him he told me. I told him jokingly if he could come up with a good name, I might be down. He just nodded and looked out the window and started talking about how beef was a rare and more expensive ingredient in Thai cuisine, and I wondered about the sudden random change of subject. Although we had talked a lot during the short time we had known each other, Alex was still a mystery to me in many ways. Judging from all the things he told me he seemed like a person who dreamed big, but never really followed through
An unfinished education. Scribbles on pieces of paper that ended up gathering dust in his drawer instead of turning into a book. A band that never really took off because he lost interest or didn’t deem that it was good enough to get successful. He talked at length about leaving a legacy. It seemed to be something that concerned him. I guess he wanted to put his mark on the world. To be remembered. To live on in some small way. I had never really thought about it myself although I did have a fascination with historical people and the lives they lived. In fact, when I do read I mostly read biographies. I just never had any ambition like that myself. I don’t need the world to know my name, or sing my praises, or remember me. Good friends, family and a sense of freedom and adventure was enough. I had tried to ask Alex about his family and friends back home, but he seemed avoidant and always found a way to change the subject without really providing any meaningful information. At certain points, I sensed a carefully hidden sadness behind his otherwise optimistically youthful and bright blue gaze.
Phuket 25^th of December 2000. 2 days before the tsunami.
Alex woke me up. It was 9 AM and we had arrived at the Phuket bus terminal 1 near Phang Nga Road. We were here. Alex explained to me that the there were several derelict and abandoned buildings perfect for establishing a free of charge rooftop domicile in an area not too far from the resorts of Khao Lak. Phuket back then wasn’t exactly the overcrowded tourist spot it is today, but it was well on the way. I understood why. The scenery was beautiful. Long sandy beaches with small island dots in the horizon, begging to be explored. Giant limestone cliffs covered in green shrubs. It did seem like paradise to me, without being too far away from civilization. I guess despite my adventurous nature, I wasn’t quite ready at that point, to walk into the wild, which is why Khao Lak seemed perfect as a start for me.
We found the area Alex had talked about. Several derelict buildings were concentrated in a small area divided by a main street that if followed long enough, led to an area with shops and places to dine. We set our eyes on what looked like an abandoned apartment complex. It was derelict, rugged looking and it seemed clear at first that no one lived there. Its ghostly façade begged us inside to explore and we accepted the invitation. As we made our way in, through a busted window in the back, we quickly became aware that the place might not be as abandoned as we had initially thought. Several signs of squatters such as cooking utensils and sleeping mats lay scattered here and there. Alex quickly rationalized that it could just be other backpackers, or it could be the people had moved on. I shrugged and we decided to make our way to the roof. We made our way to the top floor and accessed a broken-down door that led directly out onto the roof. I must admit, besides excitement, I was somewhat hesitant. Any doubt I had disappeared when we first stepped onto the rooftop terrace. It was perfect. It seemed it had functioned as a balcony or space of sorts the inhabitants could make use of for gatherings.
The entire space was surrounded by a fence. Several palm trees shaded the northwest corner which was perfect for when things got too hot. In the middle a small shed or janitorial sort of building stood. We found some cleaning materials, brooms, some parasols in there as well as an old rusty grill. The view was great. We could see the large beachfront in the far distance surrounded by limestones. After inspecting the area and finding it to our liking we sat down, and Alex broke out a bottle of whiskey. Unaware of the horror that would later unfold here, we celebrated in the shade of the palm trees. We had found our place for a while. Our place.
After a while we decided to put some money in the local economy and shop for supplies.
Essentials: Water. Cigarettes. Booze. The devil’s lettuce. Cooking utensils. Although none of us was admittedly any much of a cook. But what the hell. Can’t be seen dining out every night when we were trying to live off the fat of the land so to speak. I know, ridiculous. We were squatters. Nothing more. But heck, we would move on if we became a problem for any one here. We weren’t trying to be a bother.
Optional but greatly wanted: A blow-up animal mascot. Maybe a dolphin if possible. Some new music for Alex’s walk-man. A guitar. Decorating artifacts of any kind to make our domicile more personal.
We more or less got everything we needed and started setting up base. Getting our hands on something funny to smoke proved the biggest challenge but Alex finally succeeded at a beachfront bar. Some friendly Norwegian dude who had connections apparently. He warned us against being too open about doing drugs, even if was ‘’just’’ marijuana. Thailand had a strict approach to drugs. We thanked him and he told us to just come back here at the bar if we needed more, he was usually around.
Afternoon was rolling around and there we were. Sitting atop Phuket. On our very own rooftop presidential suite. We decorated the place with a few things we found. Among them ‘’Arthur’’ our blow-up shark (they had no dolphins). Alex had come up with the name, I asked him why ‘’Arthur’’ but in what I had quickly come to know as typical Alex fashion he just shrugged it off. We just smoked a bit and drank some booze as the evening progressed and I told Alex about Robert and Australia and all the nasty things that could kill you there. I’m not sure why, but it had made an impression on me. Insects, rare poisonous creatures, stuff like that was nightmare fuel for me. Don’t even get me started on spiders. Alex was a bit more laid back on that front. He seemed most amused and interested in the suicide plant and wondered if some poor soul had ever mistakenly used it as toilet paper and we had a good hard chuckle over that idea. Poor soul indeed.
As night rolled on stars started popping up on a clear night the sky and I learned that Alex had a fascination with the universe. Particularly the idea of multiverses and infinite universes. What if somewhere out there we were looking back at ourselves. Slightly different but still us. Sometimes it seemed to me he longed to be anywhere else but where he was. Maybe trapped in the past he was so reluctant to share with me. Then we started talking about time. I don’t exactly remember why. I think he brought it up.
Anyway, Alex had a lot to say about time. Like how he believed our perception of time is tied to our experiences. For example, someone who spends their life not stepping up, not really taking risks or chances, just following along the stream, just following the routine, in essence, just killing time, might experience time as having moved fast when they look back, because there are simply less variety, less volume, less memories to look back on. We don’t remember routines, we remember breaking them, we remember doing new things, meeting new people, being in new places. It creates the illusion that gives time volume, that makes it seem fuller, longer. I liked that idea a lot. It made sense to me. Make sure you live life to the fullest and waste as little time as possible.
I told him about my 10^th grade math teacher and how he said something about time I will never forget. Our perception of time can be measured mathematically. For example, to a 4-year-old turning 5 the transition of a year will seem much longer than it will to a 24-year-old turning 25. Because 1 in 5 is a larger fraction than 1 in 25. It blew my mind. The longer you live, the faster time seem to pass. But I agreed with him, maybe the quality and variety of the life you live and the memories you make has an affect too. Alex made a ‘’boom’’ motion with his hands around his head and laughed. We were quite stoned at that point and well, some of you might know how being stoned sometimes throws you into these philosophical conversations. It was nice. I enjoyed the ease with which I could talk to Alex about all kinds of things.
At one point I asked him a hypothetical. If he could go back in time and change just one thing, what would he do. He fell silent. I once again sensed the sadness creeping behind his eyes. It was if he was about to answer, like he was sizing me up but then shot the idea down. Time travel is impossible, so why bother was his only response and I accepted that whatever troubled him in the past, was not for me to know even if my interest only grew stronger and stronger.
I told him about my family. My overprotective mother. My father and his desperate attempts to get me interested in cars. About my older sister and my nephew. Alex nodded and asked the usual polite questions. When the subject came to my little brother his interest seemed to spark significantly. How old was he? Was I good older brother? Did I look out for him? I didn’t think much about it at the time other than finding it curious how interested he seemed to be. When we finally settled in the for night, under the starry sky, I slipped into a nightmare. It was the same I had had years earlier when I was 16. Back then I was having a hard time adjusting to the new school I had started at and maybe because of that stress I was having nightmares coupled with sleep paralysis.
I would lie in my bed, paralyzed. On my side, facing the door to my room. I often had the light on outside of the room and it would shine in through the open door. This one time , I saw dark figure approaching. Optimistically I assumed it was my mom, coming to wake me up. Although as the dark figure approached, I quickly realized this wasn’t so. No words were uttered. The eerie figure just slowly came closer, until it was right by my bed side. It sat down and I realized it was an old woman or man. It was hard to tell, because its face was literally just a mish mash of wrinkled flesh. No eyes and no mouth either. But it mumbled through its mouthless face. Speaking in tongues.
I spent some considerable time afterwards wondering what it could have been trying to communicate to me. I know of course, this was all just my mind playing tricks on me. Yet, that experience was, I suppose, my first nudge towards believing there’s more between heaven and earth than we might know. It seemed aggressive in any case. My insides were screaming as I desperately tried to wiggle myself awake as I had sometimes successfully done during paralysis. I eventually woke up. Drenched in sweat. Back then though, I had actually been in my room, and in the dream the room had stood clearly for me as it actually looked in reality which only made it seem more real. This time, I woke up next to Alex, still drenched in sweat. Alex had woken up. I had screamed in my sleep apparently. He comforted me in an almost brotherly show of affection. It took me by surprise a bit. I appreciated it, though it only made me wonder about him even more. I would have to solve the mystery behind Alex I decided. I would have to truly gain his trust. Figure him out. And I did.
Phuket 26^th of December 2000. 1 day before the tsunami.
‘’Alex played the guitar a bit and I drummed up some beats. It needed some work, but not half bad. We came up with a name for our band to be as well. Subway sleepers. Based on Alex’s time sleeping in the subway of London. It was another hot perfect day on the rooftop. We talked about going climbing the next day and I can’t wait to show Alex the joys of rock climbing. Everything is peaceful here. No stress. Just living life. Smoking it up. Meeting new people. We talked some more with that Norwegian weed dude and invited him and a couple of his friends up to ‘’our’’ place for a party. Another near perfect day.’’
Looking at these diary scribbles is making me feel it all over again. The serenity of those calm worriless summer days (well it was winter back home but it felt like summer here. Strange that) leading up to disaster. Always calmest before the storm they say. This was our last day before everything changed. Before I got a lesson in humanity. In stress under crisis. Before everything I thought I knew changed forever in the meeting with something that surely shouldn’t exist in this world.

-My husband & I have been together for 8yr. Below is a timeline of my MIL issues starting when we first began dating, to now, several years married.
Before meeting my now-husbands mother, VERY early on in our relationship and before we were even official, his mother requested to follow me on all my social media accounts. I had not met her at the time and found it way too soon & creepy. Even at this point I got the initial feeling she was the type who forces levels of intimacy that she has not made the effort to genuinely attain.
-In the beginning I did make a concerted effort w/ his family. I quickly learned his Mother asks v. intrusive questions. It’s clear her questions aren’t genuine, but for the sole purpose of having ‘intel’. As if it’s ’information gathering’ for her benefit.
-The 2nd time meeting his mother she immediately asked me what year my parents got married. I told her I wasn’t sure & she began asking me if I knew what decade.. followed by questions re: my mom’s birthdate. Then she told me what she really wanted to know was my mom’s age (always an ulterior motive..). She was beyond giddy to discover she was younger than my mom. I told her my mom was slightly older than some of my peers mothers bc she had a daughter (my sister) before I was born who passed away and she had trouble conceiving afterwards. His mom didn’t react or respond to this as she was still so giddy to over the fact she was younger than my mom. Red flag..
-When my husband and I were first dating, he lived in a house w/ several guy friends. He was 26. Whenever we’d visit his family his mom would beg him to move back home so he could save money. I found this odd behavior for a mother wanting their son to grow & flourish as an adult.
-After a year & a half dating we decide to move in together. My future MIL pulls me to the side for a 1 on 1 conversation & tells me, “if things don’t work out, don't worry, there’s always a way to break a lease & get out of living together if things aren’t going well” (..why would things not go well…?). She continues on, quizzing me ab my prior relationships and how they ended. Before reverting back to the topic of me and her so moving in together, basically telling me she doesn’t approve.. conversation leaves me feeling unaccepted, awkward and gross. I immediately told my partner how uncomfortable this made me. He was upset and went to have a talk with her. In their conversation- she gaslights him, telling him she feels like she’s walking on eggshells w/ us & she did nothing wrong, we are so sensitive, how she doesn’t do anything right, etc.
-She begins incessantly planning get togethers with us, telling us she never gets to see us (when we visit 1-2x/month). We don’t even live in the same city. Not to mention we’re busy in our 20’s w/ friends & establishing our own lives. Every time she sees us she leads w/, ‘oh I’ve missed you sooo much. when did I see you last? Why has it been so long? I’m soooo happy to see you. (On & on, guilt trip behavior).
-Our first Christmas dating we spent w/ his family, the 2nd year w/ my family. When we told her we planned to spend the 2nd Christmas w/ my family, his mother had a huge outburst which I’d describe as frantic/triggered/unhinged. My husband and I were upset by her reaction and left shortly after. The following day I txted her we were upset she reacted to our plan that way, we spent the prior Christmas w/ them & it was our decision.. and that moving forward we’d be splitting holidays. She played it off, said: “I wasn’t upset at all if you thought that I really wasn’t! I don’t think I came off like that, sorry if you felt that way” then proceeded to change the subject. Once again gaslighting (this being the last time I confront her on my own. My husband handles from here on out).
-She begins asking where I buy all my clothes. Nonstop questions ab my material possessions. Then starts going out and buying the same items for herself.
-She starts constantly telling my husband on the phone how she never sees him, leaving him feeling guilty (he’s improved a lot on the guilt-front, since our early dating era). When we see his parents 1-2 times a month.. and live 2 hrs away.
-Around this time, If I stated an opinion ab something (as in I would bring a topic up on my own) she’d debate everything I’d say as if I wasn’t allowed to have my own opinion.
-Pulls me to the side of a party 1 on 1 & tells me in private ‘you’re so lucky to have my son, I just want you to know that you’re really lucky.. I hope you know it’ she wasn’t being nice when she said it.
-Around this time she tells us how my partners sister is so sad he has a gf (me), yet she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Triangulating her 2 children, w/ the goal of wanting her son to feel guilt for being happy and in a successful relationship.
-Husbands mom starts getting jealous when we go on family beach trips w/ my family. We go for a week every year. She makes disapproving comments to us/ is generally unhappy her son is enjoying vacations.
-She starts making comments to my partner ab how I’m so closed off and won’t open up to her (making me look bad while playing the victim) and crying to him about never seeing him and how he doesn’t make enough effort..
-Begins incessantly micromanaging my husband: texts him reminding him of this and that, tells him my (as in me…) birthday is X days away, to make sure to get me something, to get his sister something, reminding him he should ‘make plans with his dad soon or go see his dad soon’ or ‘have you called your sister recently? You need to call her it’s your job as a brother’
-Begins generally undermining how we live our lives, generally casting judgement on any and every decision we make.
-Around this time his sister who is only 2 years younger begins acting bratty- we give her furniture, tvs, clothing large items she says she wants and she is super ungrateful, complains about the items we give her, tells us they’re too heavy for her & that we need to carry it for her and put it In her house for her. Only calls or texts us when she needs something, wants advice, or wants to complain to us. Never any other times. It’s always all ab her.
-His sister then keeps our dog for us when we are out of town for a few days (which we were shocked her said yes). We stocked the fridge w/ 7 or so bottles of wine for her and made our home lovely/ special for her stay. Her new boyfriend even comes to stay with her (they both have roommates so this is a chance for the 2 of them to be alone). After our trip we were over the top grateful thanking her many times. She then pitches a fit to my now husband telling him we bought her cheap Trader Joe’s wine and that she can’t believe we didn’t bring her back a tshirt from our trip, complaining on and on yelling at him.
-My partner and I get engaged and his mom/sister begin trying to force get togethers, my husband sister starts asking me to go to workout classes with her, painting classes, massages, etc.. which is v. out of character for her. It continues & becomes apparent this is happening only bc I’m now engaged to her brother. It feels disgenuine as she never made these efforts in the 5 years before we were engaged…
-My bridesmaids are my closest, nearest dearest friends who I’ve known for 10+ years. My husband’s sister cried when she found out she wasn’t a bridesmaid and started calling my husband weekly crying / begging him to be a bridesmaid. Then my MIL starts calling, telling him how disappointed she is. He tells his mother, I’m not sure why she’d expect to be a bridesmaid, she’s never made an effort, they aren’t close, she gets to select her closest friends to stand by her side. This has nothing to do with not liking or leaving anyone out on purpose. His mom cries, repeats how deeply disappointed she is, how wrong this is, etc. My husband tells his mother he plans to ask his dad to be his best man. Disclaimer: neither of my brothers were by husbands groomsmen, they couldn’t have cared less…
-My husband asks his father to be his best man. His father declines and says ‘no, not unless your sister can be a bridesmaid’………………….
-My MIL creates her own wedding hotel block for her friends and family, sending out a mass email to them. This is outside of the 4 hotel blocks we already have on our wedding website.
-I start hearing my MIL is saying to friends/family, ‘As long as my son is happy that’s all I care about, I just really hope that he is. All I can do is hope’ and telling people how devastated she is that her daughter isn’t a bridesmaid and how messed up and wrong it is and how weddings are a family celebration for the family. No one ever confronts me once about the bridesmaid situation.
-My husband ends up telling his mother to never mention the bridesmaid topic again, how he won’t tolerate it and is done hearing about it.
-We ask my SIL to give a reading at our wedding. Her response: ‘if I have to’. She is a pill our entire wedding, in almost every photo she is scowling.
-When we receive our wedding photos & upload online, my SIL/MIL text and ask me where all the photos of them are (there were plenty…). I told them I uploaded every photo our photographer sent. They told me this wasn’t true, were extremely disrespectful to me, basically told me I was lying when I wasn’t. I uploaded every single one. I even reached out to my photographer to ask if she’s deleted any of the photos before sending…
-My husband & I got into a disagreement with my SIL where we had a huge argument resulting in a 6 month period of no contact. This arises after we confronted her, calmly & maturely about an issue we had to which she cussed us out and called me every terrible curse word you can imagine. My husband was livid- told her she would not talk to/ab me that way & how childish she was behaving, how we should be able to confront her when we are upset about something she’s done, etc. After several months of no contact w/ my SIL, my MIL begins calling my husband saying: you ‘will/must’ resolve things w/ your sister. He says no & it’s not her business. My husbands father then calls him, clearly deployed by MIL (as he’s very chill/no-drama). The situation becomes even more stressful due to my MIL pressuring my husband re: a topic that doesn’t involve her. I too become stressed, seeing my in laws trying to control him. My in laws then have my SIL’s bf text my Husband saying, ‘I really hate seeing this for the family I want everyone to be ok’ (although once has my SIL attempted to reach out & apologize for calling me a bit** cu**, etc). When his attempt doesn’t work on my husband, my MIL then sends my husband & me a joint text message ab How she wouldn’t be intervening if her daughter could handle this on her own & how we need to fix it. My husband responds & tells his mom off, essentially saying: This isn’t your business. My wife is owed an apology, you guys also have never apologized for how horribly you treated us during our wedding.. the happiest time of our lives, a day we get to have exactly how WE want. My sister can handle her own problems she’s an adult, shes never going to learn bc you meddle in every problem she has bc you want things your way. Then when you don’t get what you want, you get everyone to do your dirty work for you in hopes you can bulldoze & get your way. You make everything ab you, what you want, when & how you want it. Those days are over (this is a summary of his response).
(hmm wonder why my SIL doesn’t know how to handle adversity, bc you handle everything for her even though she is an adult)
-SIL reaches out to my husband and says she wants to talk. He says no, you treated my wife poorly. You will reach out and apologize to her, not me. You won’t disrespect my wife. And she does do this although it takes her a week or so. And it did seem genuine.
-I think this all stems from drama my MIL creates, and when things don’t go her way she pulls others in to manipulate them & do her dirty work for her.
-husband and I lived 2 hours from his parents. We end up moving 10 hours away to create distance from his family. They disapprove and generally disapprove of any and every decision we make, as they don’t act with love and support our decisions as loving parents would.
-In laws announce they are starting an annual family vacation…to the private beach MY family has vacationed at since I was born (it’s not a mainstream location…it’s rather obscure). My in laws have never even been there before. I tell my husband I absolutely refuse to go & will not enable the intrusive/copying behavior.
-My husband & I take a trip just 2 of us. We stay in an airbnb. 3 months later his parents tell us they planned a trip to the same location for the 2 of them & they’d also found & booked the exact same airbnb we stayed at so they could experience the same exact trip my husband & I went on….
-Additional overstepping, intrusive, creepy behavior like above persists. They start buying many of the same exact material items, or furniture we own (obscure antiques, designer items, etc….), essentially copying everything we do. We want our own unique & individual things that make us, US. & it seems as if demand to show us they won’t allow us to have that for ourselves under and circumstance. Almost as if they aren’t entitled full access to our lives, so they will bulldoze and access our lives in their own ways to make them feel in control. This is my take.
-There’s no major animosity now but we have majorly pulled away from them. My husband calls his parents once a month or so. We now see them 3-4 times a year.
-Things will be nice & relaxing for a month or 2 then out of the blue my MIL will blow up out of nowhere calling my husband 8x in a row telling him he will speak to his mother he will do this and that. Often he simply ignores her or waits several days to respond. She likes to tell him ‘you need to call your father and speak with him’ ‘hey it’s dads birthday make sure do this and that’ (obviously we know when their birthdays are… we are pretty on top of things, still she cannot stand not being in control).
-MIL just flipped out on my husband for not calling her on Mother’s Day, though we send a gift, card, and send multiple texts first thing in the morning. My husband received multiple messages from his dad : why have you not called your mother??? Did you forget? Call your mother now. We’re skeptical the texts were actually from his dad..
-Although we’ve distanced ourselves, the every 2 mnth outbursts are exhausting. I am now 6 weeks pregnant. So excited! BUT Dreading telling them as I envision MIL & SIL making it all about them, freaking out ab how we aren’t involving them enough.. I imagine my MIL starting to disgeuninely call/text me constantly, demand to be involved at the level she expects & believes she deserves, will probably buy high chairs, cribs, etc for her own home.. and make it about her In any way possible.
Any advice on how to deal with a woman like this? I feel like I have to constantly prepare for her actions, outbursts, or things she might say. She’s draining, the pressure she puts on my husband is absurd, her expectations are outrageous, she’s judgmental and controlling, everything is about her, and she is emotionally immature in every way. I feel protective over my husband and our marriage and can’t stand them constant trying to order him around with their high expectations and demands. Help!

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If you are looking to start a brand new business or rebrand and need a professional logo for your brand at a affordable cost or if you are looking for any Poster or anything related to Insta post or anything related to design!
So I m basically looking to add more work to my portfolio gig so I want few more work which I can put there,
I will also add this to my portfolio so please allow permission for that☺️
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• 3 revisions on the design
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I can also design "personalized/ customized t-shirt art" !
I do Image resizing, watermark removal, and other image related stuff as well.

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$Bid here in comments (mandatory) Either send me a chat or msg me if u have any work for me. ☺️

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🛑NO BID = NO RESPONSE FROM ME

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I Accept [PAYPAL] and [UPI] Not any other payment method.
Once the logo is completed and finalized I will send you a watermarked preview version. After the payment is sent (via PayPal or upi), I will send you the complete work via email in required file type.

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If u wanna see my portfolio or work u can dm me and I'll send u the link, or u can directly speak up ur ideas and we can start working asap!

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TLDR; I would suggest reading the whole thing for more clearity, but all the above mentioned services r provided starting @ 3-4$ /- usd rate (can increase depends on the complexity and time)

SSA is still processing the overpayments, maybe another 2-3 months to get the final number. Wife came to America on a K-1 visa, just got her green card. When I mentioned that we will have SSDI overpayments to pay back, she got a lawyer and they added an amendment in the divorce settlement (we haven’t signed it yet) that she will not be responsible for any overpayments. Entire overpayments occurred during marriage, so do I have a case if I decide to take this to court? Or I’m out of luck and I’ll be fully responsible for 100% of the overpayments? *We had to sell the house to satisfy the divorce requirements and got $50,000 profit out of it, so she does have money to help with overpayments if that comes down to it… but do I have a case for the court or best to just sign the settlement and take the loss?

When I was in junior high a transfer student arrived in the middle of the semester; a kid that was different from everyone else. Right away he had caught my eye, in fact he caught everyone's attention because he had a very unique disability; he couldn’t speak. I guess you could say he was deaf, though it was clear to me after getting to know him that he could in fact hear; every word spoken to him was understood with simple nods or gestures; facial expressions contorting into understood language; so I guess he was mute; yeah, that would describe him best. He was an oddity to most but to me he was a unicorn, something that sparkled in our dim monotonous lives and it wasn’t until he revealed who he was did I become terrified of him and his shine.
I was in 7th grade maneuvering my way through the jungle of middle school, avoiding trouble and premature violence. I was an undersized boy for my age, no more than 5ft tall; puberty had yet to visit me leaving me left out of the herd; the other students or the ‘sheep’ as I called them that infested my school. They were all the same, kids that were driven by hormones constantly talking about boys or girls, their deep voices riding on the coattails of the wind that breezed in and out of our hallways. I was a mere shadow, always walking a few paces behind the others not wanting to be seen or acknowledged; I saw what others that looked like me went through, they were tortured and abused for simply existing.
Once Bryce Ellis and his friends stuck Timmy Easton’s face in the shitter for over 10 flushes, I was in a stall over, hiding and waiting for the torment to be over. I slithered my feet up on to the stall caressing them to my chest as I sat in a fetal position horrified of how one human could treat another. Eventually the bullies had gotten bored, their short attention span driven minds directed them to another endeavor leaving Timmy to fester in his tears and possible filth.
He sobbed for minutes that felt like hours as I remained silent in the stall over, I placed my hand cautiously on the barrier wall trying to absorb a bit of his pain, my heart ached for him in that moment and I wanted to lend him a compassionate hand if only I had the courage to do so. So yeah, I did my best to stay hidden, unseen to all the dwellers that mindlessly walked in and out of our school on a daily basis, the boys that believed themselves to be men or the girls that pontificated to anyone that listened. I was lost into an enteral sea of vindictive young adults that searched for any reason to lash out at anyone that stood in their way.
So when ‘Tape boy’ — as they would eventually call him — came to my little middle school that stood still in the secluded hills of our small town I was enthralled almost immediately with his existence. He was introduced to my home room class, I sat in the back burying my head into my arms, occasionally lifting my head to listen on the days lecture. My day dreams entertaining me as the clock slowly ticked away at our lives and it wasn’t until my teacher promptly stopped talking did it trigger a primal emotion in me to sit up and pay attention. I postured myself up straight, pausing the internal movie that played in my mind to see what the interruption was about.
There he was, a new boy that no one had ever seen before, by middle school everyone knew each other; we had went to the same elementary school, the same holiday events and grocery stores. So getting a new student was like getting a new flavor at Baskin Robbins; a mystery taste simmering on the tip of your tongue as you digested every drop, his presence was intriguing. He wasn’t small like me, I would say average height for a 12 year old; about 5'4, slender body with unkempt dark black hair. He looked timid, his head tilted towards the ground not wanting to accidentally lock eyes with any of us as the teacher introduced him, my mind wandering with such intrigue because to all of our astonishment he was wearing a surgical face mask — mind you this was in the 90’s; eons before the Covid pandemic breached the windows of our thoughts.
Right away I could hear the murmurs, the questions erupting throughout the classroom as everyone pondered of why this boy sheltered his face. I stared on for what must of been minutes as the shy boy kept his gaze down, I could see him slightly squeezing the arm straps to his backpack nervously the longer he stood there on full display for all.
I had my fill and I relaxed my postured sinking back into my chair directing my stare out the window but then Billy Sherman asked the question we all had on our minds,
“Uhm, why is he wearing that mask?”.
Our teacher explained to us that it was because of some weaken immune system, something about how his ticker didn’t click like the rest of ours, she then also told us about him being mute. This drew my eyes right back to him, I think it did for all of us and for a moment the quiet kid raised his head and locked eyes with me. His dark black eyes glistened with despair, the deep purple bags that sagged under his eyes were more indicative of someone that hadn’t slept in days. I felt something for him in that moment, our third eye conversing in some cosmic dialogue and as quickly as he rose his head did it drop once again towards the ground. I could still hear all the the other kids snickering, questioning and some even giggling; it made me sick, if I was a braver boy I would of stood on top of my desk and verbally lashed out to all the sheep, instead I rose my hand asking something Mrs. Willis never said, what was the timid boys name?
“Oh I’m sorry, how rude of me, this is Gabriel”.
She sat Gabriel upfront next to her desk, wanting him close in case he needed to write or sign something to her and just like that everyone went back to their simple lives; including myself.
The next few weeks I saw little of Gabriel other than the back of his head during class, once the bell rang everyone that my eyes glimpsed at for the day disappeared or just maybe it was me who dissolved into the ambience of our school. Either way I saw little of the boy who wore a mask, the one that sheltered his true identity and my curiosity with the new flavor of the week gradually faded into the abyss of non-existence; well, that was until the day I saw the mask slip.
It was end of the day, I spent most of the time turning corners anytime Bryce Ellis approached; evading the wrath of him and his band of merry men who were the pinnacle of human torture; finding any opportunity to demean those who crossed their path. I remember leaving Chemistry class, my mind all to occupied with leaving the hell hole of every kids dread and that’s when I saw Gabriel walking down the hall towards the cafeteria; his head still tilted down; his gaze tracking every step he took; face mask still tightly fitted around his face.
This time I saw someone was following him, it was Tom Ingram one of Bryce’s guys, a kid that tried to be the “alpha male” of the group numerous times, doing his best to dethrone the reign of Bryce. He was a big boy for his age, probably about 5'9 and easily weighed 200 pounds, he was a wild card alright; he got caught pouring sugar down Mr. Whitakers old Pontiac gas tank for giving him a poor grade. So when I saw him berating poor Gabriel; taunting him as grotesque laughter followed every insult, I felt like I had to do something and my consistent stealth veneer of camouflage morphed into into a full on sprint towards the two. I saw Tom was closing in on him, other kids looking on with bewilderment on their faces — not knowing if they should laugh out of fear or grimace from disgust. For the first time in a long while did a burning sensation of courage ignite in my soul, I was tired of seeing monsters preying on the sheep and I was going to stop it somehow.
Finally Gabriel had stopped walking and stood still, his head hanging even lower than before, the strands of his long hair covered the remainder of his face. Tom began slapping the top side of the poor kids head, yelling out obscenities, angered that he didn’t stop sooner. I was close, I was gonna stop this since all anyone else could do is cower in fear while looking on and then it happened causing me to stop dead in my tracks, my eyes widening with befuddlement. Tom had torn away the mask from Gabriel's face, awes with groans came from everyone then silence blanketed the entire school and for those few seconds our existence had been swallowed up by the earth itself.
“What the hell” Tom yelped out breaking the still but heavy disquietude.
I wanted to say something, but no words could be manifested only gurgles as I choked on my own disbelief. The timid boy under the mask of intrigue had a strip of black duct tape covering his mouth, it stretching from the side of his face to the other almost resembling what would be some hideous smile. The timid boy then collapsed his hands over his face as faint muffles of sobbing protruded from him, he ran into the nearest restroom only for Tom to pursue. Finally my thoughts had been gathered while my body came back to life, I brushed off the bizarre occurrence of that grizzly smile and I reminded myself of what was about to happen. Tom was going to punish Gabriel for simply existing as he and his gang have been doing for years and like some old factory machine the cogs of my body set into motion as I ran towards the restroom.
Before I could open the door the most horrid scream exploded outwards into the hallway, the sound sending a cold shiver down my spine and Tom came running out of the restroom gripping at his face crying. He was hysterical running and bumping into the walls until finally crumbling onto the floor only to continue sobbing. My mind was clouded with a whirl wind of confusion, I no longer knew what to do, I mean I was going to run in there and stop the assault but now the assaulter was on the floor destroyed. Then Gabriel calmly came out of the restroom, his mask firmly back on and he turned to look at me, his dark eyes burning an image of anguish into my mind. I asked if he was okay of course he said nothing though, he didn’t need to I could just sense his response and it was one of gratitude. I almost could see him smiling at me from underneath the mask and I reminded myself of what was under it; that abysmal duct tape that looked like a sinister grin.
From that day on most of the kids were afraid of Gabriel, I could see the look of terror in their eyes anytime he passed by them even though his headed was still shifted downwards but that’s the day whenever someone mentioned him they referred to him as “Tape boy”. I had heard through the whispers of our school that Tom had suffered some mental breakdown, that the doctors couldn’t find anything psychically wrong with him, it was as if his mind had shattered. He remained in some mental hospital, memories of him gradually fading and the sheep went on with living their mundane lives. Bryce even slowed his bullying, I think he knew that their were now more eyes watching everyone after the altercation and he didn’t want to get caught in some bad situation, though I could see he was itching to get at Gabriel. I went back to being a shadow, avoiding all the others still not too confident that the days of torture were over.
Even though Gabriel was regarded as some magical or perhaps malevolent being by most; not sure which one; he still appeared to be sad; lonely, his head always dragging with despondency. I made an effort in getting to know him, I wasn’t afraid like the rest of them something about the day we locked eyes gave me the resolve to understand he wouldn’t hurt me. I approached him during lunch break, he was outside sitting underneath a tree, the shade showering him a gloom of haze. I think I surprised him or maybe it was just my stealth nature but I saw him jump when I sat next to him. I began talking about the origins of Darth Vader, of how he was originally a hero using his force power for good only to eventually turn to the dark side.
Gabriel just looked at me confounded of why I was even talking to him, his stare looking on with indifference. I told him that he was like a super hero, doing whatever he did to Tom was just like a super power, that I was thankful. His gazed then returned back to the floor almost out of shame, I guess whatever he did that day he didn’t see it as something special, or something to praise. I then told him that I still envied his ability to defend himself, that having such an ability was better than winning the school lottery — which was a week supply of free cafeteria food. I kept blabbering on for the remainder of the break while he still postured his stare towards the floor until the bell had finally rung. Before getting up I told him that if I could have a super power mine would be invisibility that’s when he turned to me pulling out a small spiral from his back pack writing something down, he then showed me.
“Why?” it read.
I told him that I didn’t like being seen, that if I could I would melt away into the noise, then life would be better he just stared at me with what I could assume was disbelief. He didn’t write anything back, he just remain seated while I stood to my feet. I asked if he was coming back to class but he ignored me and just stared out into space presumably lost in his own thoughts.
For the next several months I would catch Gabriel in the hallways, talk to him about the latest edition of whatever comic I was reading, Superman being my favorite and I would go on and on about how his true super power wasn’t strength but hope. I think he became more comfortable with me, pulling out his spiral notebook to write down his thoughts; his questions and answers — a new gateway of communication had formed between us. Most times I could tell what he was going to write by looking at his eyes, those dark haunting eyes, he was a mysterious book slowly being revealed to me and I was completely beguiled by his friendship. Bryce and his little posse slowly went back to bullying the sheep, though they kept their distance from Gabriel and me.
I guess I had a new protector one that wouldn’t be crossed and something about that protection left me feeling proud. I knew in my heart that the timid kid that now went by “Tape boy” wouldn’t hurt a fly that maybe the day of Tom going crazy was all by chance, perhaps his rage snapped his mind. I tried asking him about that day numerous times but he never explained what happened he would redirect the conversation back to super hero’s. I would walk home with him on certain days, well, more like he would walk me home I never got to see where he lived, he was too reserved to give up that kind of information but the days we would walk together was always fun. I finally felt like I belonged, the longing emotion of needing acceptance was found by his friendship.
One day when I was walking home by myself I decided to stop in at the gas station to pick up a drink and scour the latest edition of comic books in the small rack of magazines. Before entering the store I could hear arguing voices engaging in combative dialogue and it became vividly clear that it was more of a yelling match than conversation. It was coming from the side of the building, most times I would just ignore it but one of the voices sounded all too familiar and I crept slowly to the edge of the building poking my head out to get a glimpse of the disturbance. It was Bryce, his back was up against the wall while someone who I presumed was his father berated him with such a vicious snarl on his face. The angry man kept slapping Bryce across the face anytime he tried to say something and soon tears began drizzling off the face of the mighty bully only for the man to laugh.
I didn’t know why the older man was treating Bryce the way he was, information cut out of my understanding, for all I know it could of been because of something the bully did at school. I found it to be poetic justice that the boy that caused so much heart ache suffered the same amount only at home. It felt like a cliche, the angry kid was angry because of the angry father; a cruel loop of never ending proportions. Eventually the man or father walked away getting back into his car leaving the bully to brush away the tears from his face. I cautiously retreated my head away deciding to ditch the store completely when that same broken voice only minutes ago shouted out to me with a hefty dominance.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bryce howled out.
I didn’t bother turning around, I just ran home, dodging into alley ways trying my best to not been seen. It didn’t appear as if he was following, but seeing him in such a vulnerable state was bemusing. We were a small town how could I not know who the man was, we all knew each other since we were small and then it hit me; Bryce’s dad had left when he was little. This man must of been his step dad or perhaps mom’s boyfriend, it didn’t matter I was going to mind my own business, I was going to slither back into the shadows; but my attempts would only fall on defeated shoulders.
I didn’t want to tell anyone of what I saw, I hoped that keeping my mouth shut would of been enough for the bully to leave me be. Unfortunately there is no reasoning when it comes to human beings, we base our actions on emotions, our anger and Bryce confronted me the next morning in front of Gabriel.
“Hey fairy, did you enjoy the show?” the angry kid spouted out at me.
I tried explaining to him that I wasn’t trying to intrude, that the arguing concerned me, that I didn’t like seeing him being mistreated and then he punched me right in the gut. I fell to the floor gripping at my stomach, the pain slicing through every fiber of my body. I tried catching my breath but inhaling was too painful and I sheltered my face expecting another punch but the bully walked off leaving me to sweat. Gabriel kneel down to me taking out his spiral notebook writing the obvious question, I gestured to him to give me a moment and I honestly felt like crying. I had spent years doing my best to blend into the background, the invisibility power I was so desperate to have amongst the sheep was now gone; I was on Bryce’s radar.
For the remainder of the school year I tried avoiding the bullies, the monsters that preyed on the sheep but their leader would actively search for me, he was no longer intimidated by Gabriel; his once menacing allure had dwindled and now we both were sitting ducks. Luckily there was only a few weeks left until summer break and I only had hoped that the time off would be enough for the monster of monsters to cool off.
Entering summer was a relief much needed for my sanity, I took a few thrashings but it was over, me and Gabriel had big plans on spending time together. He wasn’t an out door kind of kid, he usually would just come over my place and we would read my comic books. He quickly grew enchanted with the idea of super hero's, their powers restoring balance to the nature of our world. I enjoyed every minute of it, my parents on the other hand looked less jovial to our friendship, they didn’t like the mask; it worried them. They thought that whatever illness he had could be passed on to me, but they didn’t do anything to stop us from seeing each other, they only silently protested.
So after awhile we decided to meet somewhere outdoors, away from my parents judgmental stares, there was a creek close to my house, the trees giving us enough shade to stay cool on those long summer days. The small stream that flowed through the trenches of the creek enriched our view as we would find the perfect rock to perch on while reading our comics. We didn’t see much of any of the other classmates that summer, the sheep kept their distance or maybe it was just us, but the days seem to pass quickly and before we knew it summer was coming to an end. I couldn’t remember how many volumes we must of read but Gabriel was now a fan of almost every super hero. He tend to raise out his arms while walking, mimicking the premise of flying like Superman; his ponderous eyes cutting through the brush as we escaped our secluded summer spot.
It was on the final day of our summer break did I pressure the shy timid boy to explain to me what had happen that day, the day Tom lost his marbles, I needed to know. Gabriel as always tried redirecting the conversation, holding up a comic of Batman, pointing at some dialogue. I got upset, I raised my voice telling him that if we were friends then he should tell me, that there wasn’t secrets between us. His heavy eyes collapsing to the ground, shifting his posture on the rock that we both sat on.
“Look, I just need to know, you’re my best friend” I told him with genuine longing.
The school year was about to start up again and I could already envision a future of slithering through the hallways how I have always done, but with Gabriel maybe that could change. I needed to know and I was done guessing, fantasizing that he was some super hero or at least my hero; my protector. I stood up off the rock walking over to the stream, the sound of water colliding unto the small stones that infested the trench triggered something awful in my gut. I took a deep breath and made my final stand with my best friend.
“If you don’t want to tell me then I’m going home, see ya” I said with impatience dripping off of my words.
Gabriel ignored my warning and continued pointing at the comic book, that’s when I noticed what he was pointing at, it wasn’t dialogue it was one of Batman's villains — he was pointing at Clayface. This made me stop, my minding halting after speeding at 100 miles per hour; it crashing my thoughts.
“Yeah, what about Clayface?” I curiously asked with a withered and tired voice.
That’s when his pointer finger was no longer on the page but rather it was pointed towards his mouth; the mouth that was hidden behind his mask. He could see my face drop with sadness, whatever disfigurement he had underneath that horrid black duct tape must of been something like the villain from the comic and my heart broke for him. Gabriel’s eyes gleaming with absolute sorrow, the boy that only wanted to be left alone, the person all the others feared just wanted solitude and here I was badgering him to no end about something so insignificant. We stared at each other for several seconds, our eyes meeting in some altered state and I reached my hand up to his face tenderly taking off his mask. There it was, the black duct tape that resembled a grin, a nightmarish one that could only been seen in some horror movie. I then placed my fingers on the edge of the tape, my cold grip causing him to shiver and I slowly began to remove it.
“What the hell are you fairy’s doing?” a voice called out from the brush, one that sank my heart into my stomach.
I turned trying to locate the voice and sure enough there he was, the bully that had tortured so many for so many years — it was Bryce. His body slowly revealing itself from the brush like some despicable ooze frothing from the depths of hell. Though, something about him was different, his cold stare no longer fictitious but more intimidating and as his body fully emerged did I see the blood trickling down his soaked stain shirt. He was covered in the crimson fluid, there was even some on his cheeks almost as he had some open wound and smeared the remnants of it on his face. The devilish grin that bestowed his bruised and beaten face quickly led me to a conclusion; one that I wish I didn’t conclude. A purplish black infested the out layer of his left eye, it practically closed shut and his nose had been bent to a unsightly angle. I started to whimper as my lips trembled from fright because this Bryce was not the same one that had given us wedgies or swirlies this one was a true monster, a beast that devoured souls. His gaze was enough to display a vacancy of any humanity and my eyes crawled down his arm into his hand to see the black pistol that he firmly gripped.
“Uh, Bryce what happened? Are you okay?” I groaned out while sniffling.
He didn’t answer, he just kept grinning at me, the ghastly smile that stretched ear from ear plagued my vision and I knew that he had done it, that he had hurt someone badly. I was terrified and in the moment I had completely forgotten about Gabriel, my tunnel vision only focused on that firearm.
“Where the hell did the other one go?” the monster asked, I turned and realized Gabriel in fact had run away leaving me behind.
I wanted to run, I wanted to flee while screaming but horror kept me in place and I felt like some dear trapped in headlights contemplating my entire life in mere seconds.
“Everyone always messes with me!” Bryce yelled out with such ferociousness.
There was no talking my way out of this one, no pleading, I knew in that moment he was going to kill me; his rage over flowing to the point of lunacy. He quickly pounced dropping me to the floor, screaming with madness and he repeatedly hit me over the head with the but of the gun causing me to see stars. His words became incoherent sounding like muffled tones that slushed it’s way into my hearing, I shook my head trying to collect myself, just maybe I could figure a way out of this but as soon as my vision corrected itself Bryce would strike me another time causing it to blur once again. I fell into a darkness, my world collapsing into an eternal void of loneliness as my body began to float effortlessly but as soon as I thought this was my final moments flashes of Gabriel flooded into my mind awakening me out of whatever slumber I found myself in. That’s when I realized Bryce was no longer hitting me, instead he was talking to someone and as I grabbed at my head trying to steady my balance I saw it was Gabriel standing still head as always tilted downwards.
Bryce confronted him pointing his 9mm directly at his head yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs but my best friend remained unmoved, just quiet and then he slowly removed his mask. This caused Bryce to pause, his tone weaken and I think for the first time he digested if he should proceed doing what he was doing.
“What are you doing freak?” the bully yelped out.
Gabriel remained quiet, eyes still directed towards the floor, his breathing escalating; I could see his chest pump more vigorously with each passing second. With the mask off me and Bryce could see the bewildering black duct tape strapped to his face, Gabriel’s face began to tremble violently as if he was trying to yell through the bondage. He then finally began to peel of the thick layer of black duct tape and it came off with a wicked screech as I could see my friends eyes squint with pain.
Bryce was no longer pointing the gun at Gabriel, no longer was he even saying a word his arm lowered to his side and both him and I stared on with amazement. What was under the tape was layers of skin, twisting and binding to each other like some thriving organism living it’s own life on Gabriel's face. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t say anything I was in shock and my head still throb from pain. Then Gabriel's mouth — if you want to call it that — began to stretch open, he tilted his head backwards while the mountain of dead flesh started to drip down his face allowing some endless void to open up inside of him. I could hear the cracking of bones breaking, his jaw shifting to accommodate the massive hole that was now his mouth and then horrid dwindling fingers began to protrude from the darkness.
My mouth gaped open with trepidation and if I had the ability to adjust my head I would think Bryce had the same facial expression. Then a grotesque head forced it’s way out of my friends mouth revealing a face that could only exist in the realms of the dead, this new creature having two large almond shape eyes; eyes that looked very similar to the ones that were attached to my friend. This ‘thing’ then stared at Bryce, that’s all it did, no words were spoken no violence was created it just stared at him and soon the bully grasped at his face and began to yell. He ran frantically in different directions, his gun firing out into the tree line, I jumped for cover; falling to the floor sheltering my head with my arms. Bryce’s terrified screams caused my stomach to turn and soon those dire cries stopped along with the gunshots.
I must of stayed on the floor for what felt like hours, too scared to rise to my feet and through my peripheral did I see the sun begin to set plunging the small creak into darkness. I eventually mustered up enough courage to get up and I looked around, Bryce was mere feet away from me, he lay still on the floor blood spewing out of his head; it appeared as if had shot himself. I walked over to his body befuddled of what to do I then remembered Gabriel, I turned to look for him but he was gone it was only me and Bryce's dead corpse. I ran home telling my parents about everything, of the encounter I experienced, at first it seemed as if they didn’t believe me but they still phoned for the police.
I led them to the creek to the bullies dead body, I initially thought perhaps they would blame me, connect me to his death but the police believed me; well the believed me about Bryce but not about Gabriel. They told me that Bryce had killed his step father, apparently they had gotten into some altercation and afterwards he went into his mothers bedroom and shot her to death. They told me that the once bully was a disturbed individual, suffering abuse for many years; that I was lucky to escape from his wrath. I told them that they needed to find my friend I wanted to know if he was okay, but all the officers could do was pat my back with sympathy trying to relax me.
It has almost been 30 years since the event, I still have nightmares of what had happened, I see the dead stare Bryce had while pointing his pistol at me, I see him repeatedly hitting me over the head again and again. Though, what still haunts me more is Gabriel's mouth contorting into that horrid shape revealing the creature that lived inside of him. He was never found, I’m pretty sure he moved on to another city, another place where bullies like Bryce tormented their schools and I could only imagine Gabriel was there to balance the wrongs of the world. I am scared of my best friend, but I know at the same time he is my protector; my super hero, he is out there doing good, I can feel it and I hope he can sense my love for him. Maybe we will never meet again, perhaps it’s not written in the stars for us to reunite but one thing is for sure, I get comic books mailed to me randomly every month; most are of Superman and I know exactly who they are from.

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The materials I use in my spell work are: (When I start the spell, I will let you know all the herbs, spices, oils, candles, etc I use)
°cauldron °candles °herbs °spices °my own energy for manifesting your desires
Intentions are very important when it comes to spell work, and my intentions are always of the light as I do not work with Darkness or any negative forces. I also work with deities to help along with the process of whatever we're exactly trying to manifest for you. Not only are my intentions important, but your intentions are even more important. Be sure that you are only wanting the positivity of outcomes of any party involved. We do not wish any negativity upon anyone, and I will not work on any spell work that is intentionally inflicting pain or emotional damage.
As mentioned, above, it tells you what I use. When I start the spell, I will send you the healing trick, affirmation, and ingredients used. While I'm going through the spell, I'll send you a picture of it and then we will wait for the candles to burn out. It takes a couple hours, but once they do, that signifies the energies settling into the air.
What I would need from you is:
°First & Last name Of yourself & any person involved °Picture of yourself & any person involved together or separate pictures °Any words or Phrases that have a powerful impact for you & coincides with this spell work

I (f 30) am the youngest of two. My older sister (f 36) lives in the same state but a few hours away. She never came home after college because she was in a relationship. When we were younger she was a total mother's girlie girl and I was a daddy's girl. With that dynamic you can conclude that me and mom (f 55) weren't very close back then. When my sister went to college and it was just me and mom, we clashed all the time. I couldn't wait to go to college and be free. Unlike my sister, when i graduated from college I went back home and lived with my mom. While in school she found out she had cancer and I realized how important she was to me, during the summer I would take care of her. I became super protective because my dad (m 60) had died the second part of my freshman year. I guess realizing you only get one dad and mom did something to me and our relationship changed. Strangely, while in college I transformed into a girlie girl with all female roommates that treated me like a toy by dressing me up and taking me to parties. So, when I came home I started working right away. Had some messy relationships and crappy jobs, but my mom always supported me. From what I seen my mom and sister were still close, even with the distance. When Shawn would come home her and mom hung out, sometimes she would stay with us, sometimes not but they talked often. Note, I don't know if it was the age difference or what but me and my sister never got along. Somewhere in my 20's I realized that we were never going to be "those sisters" and called it for what it was. We are blood, but not friends, and I know if we weren't related we would never befriends on purpose. Don't get me wrong, I love her and if Shawn was hurt or in trouble I would help her but for now, for my mom's sake I talk to her on major holiday's and important family matters, but not to just catch up or anything. I honestly don't care. Sadly, if other family member didn't ask "how is your sister", I could probably go years without thinking about her. Anyways, it started off slow, like Shawn would come to town not stay with us, then she would come to town and not reach out until she was leaving, and then we wouldn't know she was in town at all unless she called my grandmother or posted something on social media in a familiar place. It was weird because they would always link up. Shawn loves mom's cooking and would come home just for that. Mom would go visit her and go to work events with Shawn, at the last one mom said they got into an argument because she was tired from driving 5 hours, going to the event without a nap and being on her feet all night. After the event mom just wanted to go back to Shawn's apartment and rest, but there was an after party she wanted to go to. Not wanted to go to the after party mom just wanted her to walk her back to the apartment and then Shawn could go. Shawn wanted mom to go with her and said they wouldn't be there long, but mom was tired. She was trying to convince her that she would only stay for 30 minutes, but we both know when Shawn is in a room she will talk to everyone and 30 minutes could turn into 3 hours real quick. When mom put her foot down and asked her to take her home Shawn got upset and started yelling "this is mom's side of the story", you never want to do anything, ugh, why can't you just have fun, ugh..... She said Shawn was just yelling her on the corner of the street while people were walking. Shawn stays in town where a lot of people walk and everything is close by. Then she agreed to walk mom back but walked super fast and mom couldn't keep up. She is shorter than me and my sister. When they got back, she let mom in, changed her shoes and went back out. When mom came home and told me what happened I was so confused. It isn't like them to argue. I guess you can say this was the beginning of the end. Shawn stopped calling her as often, went out of the country and said nothing about it until the day of. There were just a lot of things she was doing without communicating with mom, it came to a head when our phone plan bill went up 100's of dollars. See, the bill is in Shawn's name but mom pays the bill, well she use to until Shawn got an iPhone and added the cost of the phone to the bill. Mom and I have Samsung's. She did this without telling mom and because the bill was automated it took mom while to notice. When she did, she told Shawn to start paying the bill for the portion of the phone itself. She agreed but wouldn't pay it on times, there were times that my phone was off but didn't notice because I was always near wifi. Somewhere in the middle of this she got another iPhone and the bill went again. Shawn didn't know that just because she got another phone didn't mean she wouldn't have to pay off the other one. They went back and forth on the phone one day arguing, Shawn claiming she paid and mom asking her to go through the payment history and tell her where...... the arguing ended when she started yelling at mom, saying "you're triggering me, you're triggering me" my mom just stared into the phone in disbelief... We're black and raised in a very much black household so for those who know, know those are words that we just don't say..... Well that was last week and this past weekend was mothers day and Shawn didn't call mom.... We have a family group chat of about 23 people and she said it there but not directly to mom or sent a card or anything.... I asked her the Thursday before if she would be sending mom something on mother's because we usually work together to get her something or she send me money and I get her something and Shawn will send a card. But nothing. She didn't even call our grandmother.... I went to my boyfriends house after then mother's day dinner at my grandmother's house, where I stay most weekends and while there she called me. Mom calls when she says things are too much to text. bet she went home and found a package with a 15 pound weight in it and a note saying "I hope your mother's day brought you some joy",.... Um what??? I want someone to tell me why she picked this as a mother's day gift.... and just one ... one 15 pound weight, not a set. Mom works out but already has a set for 5,10,15, and 20 pounds weight that I know Shawn knows she has. Mom was really sad and she isn't the super emotional one of us 3, the emotional one is me. If there is one thing I hate is my mom feeling bad, but then for it to be caused by her own child was different. Shawn NEVER answers the phone like NEVER, I had to tell her our dad passed away via text after calling almost 100 times. Mom sounded like she wanted to cry and just kept asking me " Brit, what did I do wrong, I don't know what I did wrong". Dang, that broke me. Now I'm the bigger of the two of us, and my sister knows me well enough that she don't want these problems so instead for even calling I sent a long text, basically saying I was disappointed to call her my sister and she should be ashamed of how she is treating our mother because when she got fired and unemployment wasn't paying enough to cover her bill's mom paid. Shawn never paid her back. Over all she is one of the most selfish people I know. I just asked her how hard is it to say happy mother's day or send a card. I didn't expect a response, but she did, in only 15 minutes. She said " I appreciate your concern and believe me, this runs much deeper than a phone bill. I don't have the same relationship with mom as you. You only know what you experienced and what happened to you. So, I'm not going to try and explain the various dynamics between mom and I that led to where we are now. It maybe hard for you to understand today. Pls don't blame it all on me. I love you. " I don't even know what that means. I responded something like other than physical, emotional, or mental harm i don't know what could have happened so bad that she couldn't call and say happy mothers day though. I can't imagine my mom doing any of those things. but again she gave some therapy like response and asked me to give her time to heal.... Mom has no clue what various dynamics she is talking about. I'm asking for advice because I feel like she is going down the same path she did with our dad. After our parents marriage ended and we were living with dad, mom still came over 3 times a week and cooked, had us on weekends. It was like she never left the only difference was she didn't sleep at home. When the arrangement changed, dad came 2 weekends in a row. then every other weekend, then once a month, then we were lucky if we saw him at all. It broke my heart in high school when a boy in my class told me to tell my dad that he would be late for practice. I was confused and bugged him all day to explain what he meant. I found out that my dad was coaching baseball across the street from our subdivision about 3 times a week with games on the weekend. So, he could see random boys at my school almost everyday for at least 3 hours and couldn't come over before or after to see his own kids? I actual walked over to the park one day because I refused to believe it, but there he was. We never talked about it. I just started walking there and sitting in the dugout to be near him and he would drive me the 2 minutes back home. All of the players lived in our neighborhood and dad had a flat bed so he would drop them off too. When Shawn graduated high school she never talked to our dad again after that day. She never told me why. He also developed cancer while I was in college and was very sick, when he got better he tried to get back in our lives and I let him in mine, called him on holidays but he did some messed up stuff to me my first year of college so I pushed back a little between that dad would call me and tell me to call my sister on 3 way, if she answered she was forced to talk to him. She wouldn't say much and would always say she was busy or had to do something to do and promise she would call him back and never would. So, now .... as part of my trying to figure out what my mom did, I reminded her how she cried when she found out our dad passed and she just kept saying she thought she had more time and who would walk her down the ail when she gets married and never got a chance to fix things. I would hate for that to happen with our mom too. I know because of our relationship once mom passes away we will most likely not talk or see each other ever again. So, I asking what did my mom do to her? What can I do to help fix this or should I even try? Anyone have any suggestions or ideas, also sorry for the typos or misspelled words or if its hard to follow, but I ask for anyone's input if they have experience this type of situation? Side note, idk if this helps but when Shawn came to town the last few times she stayed with our Aunt Carla. She has baby of the family syndrome, where she thinks she had hard but was actually spoiled rotten and believes all her sisters and brother and their wives are jealous of her. It's total BS but once when mom and I weren't getting along and I stayed with her, she told me some crazy stories about mom sleeping around, getting drunk, trying to fight her and someone else and some other stuff. This was when I was in college and I believed what she said mom and I continued to be on the outs for awhile before I found out about her cancer and became her protector and caregiver for a while. I don't believe those stories so much now be her and mom had issues before, Carla has actually had issues with all her siblings at one point and finds the need to the the main character of her own story and everyone else's. Simply she's a "One Upper". Aunt Carla getting in Shawn's ear is one idea I believe, also Shawn's friend have ummmmm "other people problems" like mellow dramatic soap opera drama and she maybe internalizing their issues. But yeah help, where do I go from here?

PC Sepcs:
CPU: Celeron(R) G4930
MOBO: Z390-A PRO
PSU: 1200W Be Quiet Platinum rated
RAM: 8GB DDR4
I am currently mining on an rx580 8GB and an RTX 3070 without any issues. My friend gave me a GTX 1080, GTX 1080 TI and an RTX 2080 for a good price. I have read here: https://www.reddit.com/buildapc/comments/quvvya/can_i_run_a_3070_and_1080_to_use_separately_on/
that it should be possible to run them together for mining without a problem.
I have all the cards on PCIe riser. 4 of the risers are connected to a small PCIe slot, and one is installed in a normal PCIe slot.
I installed them and manually installed the drivers for each card from the official Nvidia site. Somehow, none of the 3 newly installed cards showed up in the device manager. The RX 580 and RTX 3070 still run fine. The other cards also turn on, the fans spin, the riser has a green light etc, so everything should work.
I have tried the things from here (Not using any splitters like OP in post):
https://www.reddit.com/minerstat/comments/qjftev/multiple_gpus_not_detected/
Somehow, when i want to boot into BIOS, the video doesnt get transmitted. Tried connectng to MOBO or GPU with 2 monitors.
I have tried to put the riser with the working 3070 into the main PCIe slot, but that didnt change a thing.
I dont understand what he meant exactly with: "msOS not responsible for detecting your GPUs, drivers doing that doing POST boot.". So i didn't try that.
Thanks for your help.

PC Sepcs:
CPU: Celeron(R) G4930
MOBO: Z390-A PRO
PSU: 1200W Be Quiet Platinum rated
RAM: 8GB DDR4
I am currently mining on an rx580 8GB and an RTX 3070 without any issues. My friend gave me a GTX 1080, GTX 1080 TI and a RTX 2080 for a good price. I have read here: https://www.reddit.com/buildapc/comments/quvvya/can_i_run_a_3070_and_1080_to_use_separately_on/
that it should be possible to run them together for mining without a problem.
I have all the cards on PCIe riser. 4 of the risers are connected to a small PCIe slot, and one is installed in a normal PCIe slot.
I installed them and manually installed the drivers for each card from the official Nvidia site. Somehow, none of the 3 newly installed cards showed up in the device manager. The RX 580 and RTX 3070 still run fine. The other cards also turn on, the fans spin, the riser has a green light etc, so everything should work.
I have tried the things from here (Not using any splitters like OP in post):
https://www.reddit.com/minerstat/comments/qjftev/multiple_gpus_not_detected/
Somehow, when i want to boot into BIOS, the video doesnt get transmitted. Tried connectng to MOBO or GPU with 2 monitors.
I have tried to put the riser with the working 3070 into the main PCIe slot, but that didnt change a thing.
I dont understand what he meant exactly with: "msOS not responsible for detecting your GPUs, drivers doing that doing POST boot.". So i didn't try that.
Thanks for your help.

Oh, boy, Charlotte, do I have a doozy for you. It’s such a doozy that it comes in 2 parts. I guess it would qualify as petty revenge, since that’s the only flair that fit, but it’s more of an entitled Karen story.
For the sake of telling the story a little smoother, I'm going to explain some things up front. I (female, early 30s; let's call me Molly) am the manager in the accounting office of a very small loan company. Like, really small. We have less than 30 offices with only 2 employees at each office. For this reason, we are kind of low-tech, old-fashioned. I'm talking paper timesheets that get faxed to our office (we're also the corporate office that handles the payroll). Our office hours are 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. with a half-hour lunch. Me & my employee (who we'll call Sally) work this shift. Our boss (who we'll call Greg) is the owner & CEO. He works in the office starting at 9:00 a.m. till whenever he leaves for the day. Most of the time, that's around the time we leave, sometimes it's earlier due to errands he needs to run.
So, in Oct 2022, Sally (female, early 30s) gave us a note that her doctor wants to have daily appointments with her indefinitely. She let us know she would need to leave at 3:30 every day. Greg granted that request & even gave her the opportunity to come in early so she didn't miss any of her 8 hours each day. So, she began coming to work between 6:45 & 7:00 & would take however long of a lunch she needed to so she would have an 8-hour day.
Due to a combination of our fiscal year-end work in Oct & Nov 2022, playing catch-up from Dec 2022 to Feb 2023, & the other coworker (who we'll call Irene) leaving the company in Feb 2023 so we had to play catch-up again for several months before we got used to the bigger workload, I hadn't been able to pay too close attention to Sally's work. But in the middle of Aug 2023, I began to suspect her. I realized that the tasks Sally had in the morning would usually take me an hour & a half to do, which meant I would be relatively finished by the time I would arrive at 8:30. Sally, on the other hand, would only have stuff halfway done. Now, I knew Sally worked slower than me since I knew the job better than she did, but this still seemed very slow. I began to suspect Sally was either not arriving as early as she said she was (she was the only one in the office before 8:30) or she was arriving on time but wasn't working.
On Aug 21 (Monday), I decided to come in early to the office since I had to make up time due to a doctor appointment later in the week. So, I arrived at work at 6:40. 6:45 rolled around...no Sally. 6:50...no Sally. 7:00...same thing. Sally arrived at 7:20. Now, ok, maybe she ran into traffic. However, that's a bit of a coincidence that the one day I show up early unannounced is also the day she happens to be late. But I waited to see what time Sally would write down on the timesheet. However, she didn't write down her time until Tuesday right before she left. She had written down that she had arrived at 7:05. I asked her about it, and her response was "I must have copied it down wrong from my spreadsheet." That's strange, 'cause you hadn't arrived at 7:05 any other day that week. Just where did you copy it down from?
Now, I am curious as to what time Sally puts down when she believes no one has seen what time she arrives. So, for Sept 4-15, I would arrive in the parking lot across the street & read a book & eat breakfast while I wait to see what time Sally would arrive. Every single day, she would arrive around 7:15 or 7:20, but would write down 6:45 or 6:50, a half hour discrepancy every single day. & we have no way of knowing how long she's been stealing a half hour every day. She could have been doing this for the past year since her schedule changed.
On Sept 18, I write down Sally's actual times from these 2 weeks on a paper & tell her to correct all the times I indicated. Sally says that she will use the office clock to write down her times from now on. Wait a minute, you're saying that your phone is a half hour earlier than the rest of the world? But only when you arrive at work. When you go to lunch & leave work, it matches the rest of the clocks. & then switches during the night so your arrival time can be wrong again the next day? Wow, that's a pretty glitchy phone you got there.
On Sept 20 after Sally left, I installed a camera that connects to an app in my phone. I put the camera in a place where it wouldn't be able to see any computers/paperwork & turned off the microphone (I didn't want to risk any company info being seen/heard). I only needed to see when Sally arrived. Where I ended up placing it, I was able to see Sally where she sat at her desk.
On three of the following days, Sally would arrive 10 to 15 minutes after the time she would write down. I speak with Greg about this, & we decide to write her up. By the way, usually when an employee is caught forging the timesheet like this, it's an immediate termination. At any other office, she would have gotten fired in the beginning of Sept after I first discovered the half hour forgery. I am deciding to give her a chance to make this whole thing right.
On Sept 26 (Tuesday), I give Sally the write up when she arrives.
Sally: I'll sign it, but I don't know why. I mean, I get here at 7:00. (Ok, there's a sign right there. Who signs an official write up when their employer is lying or setting them up?)
Me: I've observed you arriving between 7:10 & 7:15.
Sally reads the write up & then keeps it at her desk for a bit after signing it. After plenty of time, I ask for it back. She grabs it, so I lean forward & hold my hand out (our desks are right next to each other), but Sally flings it at my desk. The whole thing is made better by the fact that Greg is out of town Tuesday thru Thursday. So, Sally proceeds to be angry & have an attitude all the way through Thursday. She refuses to talk or answer the phones. She does that tossing/flicking-papers-around, aggressive-typing, heavily-setting-things-down thing people do when they're frustrated or angry (which she did all...day...long). She sped out of the parking lot & down the street so fast that I could hear her engine rev & tires squeal from inside the building.
On Sept 27 (Wednesday), Sally is still doing that slamming things thing. I enjoy not responding to her whatsoever. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she would slam something down & look at me. I wouldn't give any kind of reaction, wouldn't look at her, & it would piss her off. Sally would then start slamming things around again. I admit, that was fun.
On Sept 28 (Thursday), I see on the camera that Sally arrives at 7:00, but then I watch her sit on her phone for 45 minutes! She is still having attitude issues, &—unbelievably—is still slamming things. After she leaves for the day, I then see the calendar that Sally keeps on her desk as I was passing by. On the box for Sept 26 (the day she was written up), she had written the words "F***ING JOKE!". The audacity of her to write that in plain view of everyone in the office & think she wouldn't get in trouble for it.
On Sept 29 (Friday), Sally arrives at 7:00 but sits on her phone for 30 minutes WHILE VAPING! (Not sure about other cities or states, but it's illegal to smoke or vape inside a building in the city where our office is.) But Greg is back this day, & I had been texting him what's been going on. He had texted back he wanted to do a meeting on Friday. So, the 3 of us go into the breakroom for a meeting.
Greg: So, Sally, what's been going on with this timesheet thing?
Sally: I just, I forget to write down the time when I arrive.
Greg: Ok, well, whether it's done on purpose or through negligence, we can't have wrong times on the timesheet. So, from now on, you won't be able to come to work before Molly gets here at 8:30. Now, are there any other problems you'd like to discuss with us?
Sally: (begins getting worked up) I just, I feel like I can't talk to her. She creates such a hostile work environment.
Now, I am blown away. Me? Hostile? I'm autistic, so I'm naturally shy & hate socializing, so I usually don't talk to anyone very much. Everyone I tell this story to, their eyes widen when I mention this, 'cause there's no way anyone would ever describe me as hostile.
Luckily, Greg interrupts her to defend me: This isn't a hostile work environment.
Sally: (backpedaling) Well, I mean, she gets mad at her printer & bangs on it, & that just flashes me back to stuff. I mean, I'm trying to work on myself & the anxiety, & she just sends me back.
Oh, so now, we're claiming we have PTSD & that my "violent" actions are giving her flashbacks? Um, who is it laughing right along with me every time my printer jams? (By the way, I know she's lying about the PTSD, 'cause I have a couple friends with PTSD & recognize the signs. Sally doesn't show any sign of fear or panic or shrinking away from things, nothing like that. There are no signs whatsoever of her being alarmed by anything I do.) Oh, not to mention the double standards. You're allowed to slam things around (for 3 straight days, by the way), but I'm not?
Anyway, we wrap up the meeting after Greg underlines (for Sally's benefit) that everyone in the office needs to get along.
On Oct 2 (the next Monday), I had a good drive & happened to get there at 8:20. Sally arrives at 8:25 & comes in, stopping at my desk.
Sally: (annoyed) Are you gonna be early all week?
Me: (frowning & caught off-guard) Um, I don't know. It just depends how long my drive takes.
Sally: (with a snarky attitude) 'Cause I had to keep driving around waiting for you, so if you're gonna be early, I'd like to know.
Ok, first of all, no one is forcing you to drive around. You can park your car in the parking lot. Do you really think we're gonna fire you for sitting in the parking lot while you wait for me? We only said you couldn't come in & work before I do. & second, it's none of your business when I get to work. My shift starts at 8:30, therefore, you should aim for 8:30, just like Greg told you to do. How am I supposed to predict the exact minute I get to work? & you're gonna get angry at me 'cause I didn't show up before my shift starts? Since when is it a requirement of mine to come into work before I start working?
Well, a bit of malicious compliance in this entitled story: if I can see I'm going to arrive at work more than 5 minutes early, I stop at the store just down the road & shop until 8:30. 'Cause guess what? Sally gets there who knows how early & sits in the gas station across the street, waiting for me. Fine, you wanna be that way? I can be petty, too.
By the way, Sally has a radio talk show she listens to from before I get to work until it ends at 10:00. I'm not into talk shows, but it wasn't too annoying (most of the time), so I didn't say anything about it. The reason why I started having a problem listening to it was that they would get into inappropriate things (s** toy review, for example). It made me super uncomfortable when they did segments like this. From the moment Sally was written up, she started only listening to the show on her headphones, thinking she was punishing me by me not getting to hear the show. Joke's on her. Sally did me a favor by not having to listen to that thing.
Sally was also told that she is no longer allowed to take smoke breaks on the clock. As no one else in the office takes breaks but chooses to work through them, this change would be made so all employees were equal now. But here’s the interesting thing: Sally suddenly stopped taking smoke breaks at all, but her bathroom breaks grew more numerous & longer. When she had been taking smoke breaks, the alarm on her phone would go off at specific times, such as 2:00. She would then go outside to take her smoke break. After the on-the-clock-smoke-break privilege was taken away, the same alarms would go off, such as 2:00. She would then disappear to the bathroom for 15 minutes. & I even smelled smoke in there when I went in there right after one of these long bathroom breaks.
Ever since the write up, there’s been attitude every once in a while. Most of the time, I have no idea what it is I did that could possibly have set her off that day. All I know is that Sally’s suddenly slamming things around again (hmm, PTSD cured now, is it?). & she’s still constantly making mistakes (like she’s always done).
On Nov 27, Sally is working on the Funding (loan proceeds funded onto a customer’s debit card). What we do is get the list of customers, determine how much the office funded that customer, transfer the money from the office’s bank account to the holding account, & then transfer the total from the holding account to the account that directly funds the debit cards to replenish the money. We had two customers with similar names (say, John Smith & Jack Smith). Sally hadn’t paid attention to the whole name & had applied John’s $0 funding to Jack. However, Jack had been funded $250. So, that money was missed, & I had to make a separate transfer for it.
On Dec 4, Sally is working on the Funding & writes down $0 for a customer. But the report from the office says he actually got $96.
On Dec 8 & 9, we discovered 2 checks that were supposed to be sent to our office (one from Oct, one from Sept). Neither had been cashed, & neither had ever reached us, even though we had the rest of the paperwork that would have come with those checks. Due to the dots I had connected, I had a pretty strong hunch that Sally wasn’t thoroughly checking the mail envelopes to make sure they’d been completely emptied before they got thrown away. I believed these checks were still in some envelopes that were then thrown away by Sally.
On Dec 11, on the bank reconciliation sheets we work at the end of the month (like balancing a checkbook), one of Sally’s offices was out of balance by $68, & she couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find it, either. I pulled out the one done for the month before. I couldn’t find it there, either. But I did notice one thing. The checks that hadn’t cleared the bank yet didn’t add up to the total amount of outstanding checks Sally had written down. By $68. I go back to the month before that one. There were a total of $68 in old checks that never got cashed & therefore should have gotten written off on the fiscal year-end at the end of Oct. But she hadn’t transferred them to the new month’s sheet. So, now, we have to hold onto them for a whole year to write off next Oct.
The same day, I went through all the offices to double check the GL codes that we post the expense checks to (GL codes determine where an expense gets coded, e.g., post an electricity payment to the GL code for utilities). The day previously, Sally had gotten several GL codes incorrect in the Miller office. She had forgotten to change the codes from the one for the Checkbook to the ones for the expense account. She had caught those ones since it affected the balance of the Checkbook, so I had helped her fix those properly. However, there were expense checks sent to a GL code that wasn’t the right one that Sally hadn’t caught.
I talk with Greg, as I feel that every time I turn around, I am either retraining Sally on stuff I’ve trained her on multiple times, I’m correcting mistakes on stuff Sally should know how to do by now (‘cause again, I’ve trained her multiple times), or I’m disciplining Sally about stuff she’s doing wrong. Greg asks how many mistakes due to carelessness she’s made in the last 2 weeks. I check my notes & tell him 4. He says that’s too excessive for an accounting office. We need to write her up.
So, I made the write up, but I just know I’m going to be dealing with the same attitude as the last time I had to write her up. & guess what? Greg’s out of town till Thursday again. I used my phone this time to record the audio of the interaction. That way, if Sally has attitude towards me again, I’m able to play the recording to Greg so he can hear what Sally’s like when he’s not here (which is why the following conversation is pretty much word for word).
On Dec 12 (Tuesday), I sat her down first thing.
Me: So, in the past couple weeks, I’ve noticed some errors happening due to carelessness, & they’ve become a bit excessive for an accounting office. The most important thing in an accounting office is accuracy. That’s why we focus so much on thoroughness & attention to detail. So, whatever needs to happen to lessen those errors, whether it’s slowing the pace of the work itself or double & triple-checking the work before it’s finished, it needs to happen. For example, when I work the payroll, after I get the total for all the offices, I then subtract each person’s individual hours to double check my entries. That way, if there is an error, at least I know it wasn’t ‘cause I was going too fast or not paying attention or something. So, whatever you need to do to decrease the mistakes, please—
Sally: What errors are we talking about?
Me: I have a page here with the items from the last couple weeks. (hand her the write up)
Sally: (reads the pages for a minute) Ok…
Me: So, whatever you need to do to—
Sally: (talking quickly ‘cause she’s pissed now) I’m gonna need more time & focus strictly on Funding. I don’t wanna touch mail, I don’t wanna touch anything else. I wanna focus strictly on that. ‘Cause I’m getting 80 plus a day (which was a lie, we never get nearly that much), & now, I’m gonna start getting in trouble if it’s not 110%. I am human. I will make mistakes. So, if that’s not allowed, then…(shrugs) let me know, I guess. I’ll talk to Greg & I guess figure something out. I am human, & I am gonna make mistakes, A. B, I feel like crap. He (Greg) has been in here sick the last week. I caught whatever he has. I’ve been hacking. I’ve been sicker than sh** the last week. I am trying. You guys usually have until the 12th to close the month. Since I’ve worked here, I’ve closed before the 8th. Yeah, I made mistakes. I told you I made a mistake on the Miller office. I knew what happened. So, to throw it in my face again that I already made that mistake is kinda rude, but…(shrugs) I’m actually kinda shocked to see that on there.
Me: Well, you did catch the errors involving the Checkbook, but there were other mistakes on that office that you didn’t catch, & that’s the reason that was listed on there.
Sally goes back to her work, & I decide to not ask her to sign the write up I had given her right away since she was diving right into the Funding. She had expressed she wanted to focus solely on it to minimize mistakes. I wanted to use positive reinforcement to convey that this was good behavior & good thinking, so I decided to wait for her to finish before asking her to sign & return the write up.
Now, here’s the issues with her little outburst above.

1. Sally is complaining that she’s human & makes mistakes & we’re not allowing mistakes. We’re not saying that she can’t make mistakes, ‘cause she’s right. Everyone makes mistakes; I make mistakes. What we’re saying is that she’s making mistakes much too often.
   
2. Sally says the reason for these mistakes the last 2 weeks is ‘cause she’s been sick the last week or so ‘cause she caught what Greg had (do you see the timing problem there?). Also, these kinds of mistakes have been happening for months & months. I only brought these examples up ‘cause they were recent.
   
3. Sally pointed out the fact that she closes each month really quick. We don’t care how fast things get done. Our goal isn’t to get things done quickly but to get things done accurately. If we happen to get it done quickly, that’s just a bonus. We would rather things go slow than to have errors causing problems or costing us money ‘cause we didn’t take the time to make sure it was correct.
   
4. Sally states it’s rude that I’m throwing her error back in her face (you already know my reaction to that). She obviously doesn’t know how a job works. Just ‘cause we discussed this error already doesn’t mean it can’t go on the write up. This is just one of the examples that required us to do a write up. We’re not doing this ‘cause we want to write you up or that we’re looking for excuses to get you in trouble. We’re doing our job. If a situation needs correcting, we have to correct it. We can’t just ignore it. & obviously, me talking about your errors all these months hasn’t helped. You’re still making the same mistakes. So, now, we’ve had to escalate to a write up on paper.
   

Sally doesn’t say another word. She, as expected, starts doing her tossing-things-‘cause-I’m-pissed-off thing. I just go back to my work. I’ve said my piece, now we can put it behind us & move on.
Now, we have until 10:30 to make the transfers for this Funding program in order to get the money back to the account the same day. We are still missing the paperwork for 2 customers from an office. (FYI, when we’re missing paperwork, we call the office & ask them to fax it. If we still don’t get it when it gets close to the transfer deadline, we call again & just ask for the amount to get it done.) So, at 10:20, Sally turns to me.
Sally: What do I do for these 2 customers? Do I just skip them?
Me: (frowning) Do what you usually do when you don’t have the paperwork in time. Call the office—
Sally: (in a sharp tone) I did. (she’s assuming I mean call the office to tell them to fax it)
Me: (ignoring her attitude outburst) Call up the office & ask for the dollar amounts.
Sally: But I don’t want to write down the amount without seeing the actual paperwork. If I’m gonna get in trouble for errors now, I don’t want to take down what could be the wrong dollar amount over the phone. I mean, I think that’s only fair to me.
Me: In the instances that were mentioned, they weren’t cases of taking down an amount over the phone. They were instances where we had paperwork or a report to see the amount. We would never write you up if there was a possibility that the office gave you the wrong amount over the phone.
Sally stares at me for a second & turns back to her desk. I turn back to my own work as Sally then calls up the office. I had to deal with her attitude the rest of the day: throwing mail into the mailbox, throwing open the letter folding machine so it made a big bang on the table. I was trying to still be the usual friendly, professional person I am at work; I told her “See you tomorrow” & everything. Sally wouldn’t talk to me unless she had to.
This is when I discovered that Sally has a habit of lashing out at me when she gets in trouble. The first write up involved her trying to drag me under the bus by claiming I’m hostile. This time, it was more personal. See, we do a Christmas gift exchange at the office; we each buy each other a gift. I had searched over & over trying to find something Sally would like. I finally found this desk calendar with gnomes on it (she likes both of these things), so I got it & a couple small items. I open my gift from Sally, & among a few cheap little things, I found…Sally’s own nearly empty bottle of nail polish remover. Wow, this is the thanks I get for not firing you back in Sept with the whole timesheet forgery thing?
& this is where I leave you until Part 2, the conclusion.

I recently made some tweaks to improve video performance according to this page:
https://exputer.com/guides/settings/amd/
However, my Lockpicking frame rate is in overdrive again, which is a PITA. It shows on the upper right of the screen and oscillates between the 70's and the 120's, but when I go into the Lockpicking screen it rockets up 320 fps!
I had a much more detailed list bookmarked on a site called SlothyTech, but sadly, that page has been taken down, perhaps because of the recent update.
In Adrenaline, My Performance Report shows as Optimal, with an Average FPS of 313.2. The game looks great, but one or more of my new settings is affecting the Lockpicking, and I cannot find any specific information online about which Adrenaline setting or settings would affect this screen in the game.
There doesn't seem to be a mod to fix this, and I'm stymied by my scant knowledge and experience with Adrenaline as well as my limited knowledge of the wide array of video card settings.
I've read on Steam that I could try setting vsync to Application Default, but "vsync" doesn't appear anywhere in the Gaming Settings screen for Fallout 4.
I tried turning off AMD FreeSync and Radeon Enhanced Sync one by one, and then both at the same time, but after launching the game after those three changes, it either stayed the same or the frame rate spiked even higher.
Are there settings outside the Gaming tab for Fallout 4 that I need adjust? If so, I don't know where to look or what to adjust.
FYI, my monitor is a GIGABYTE G27Q 27" 144Hz 1440P Gaming Monitor, 2560 x 1440 IPS Display, 1ms (MPRT) Response Time, 92% DCI-P3, VESA Display HDR400, FreeSync Premium.
I just saw that there's a mod called High FPS Physics Fix on nexusmods. Would that work for my issue?
I'd really appreciate some tips!

I recently made some tweaks to improve video performance according to this page:
https://exputer.com/guides/settings/amd/
However, my Lockpicking frame rate is in overdrive again, which is a PITA. It shows on the upper right of the screen and oscillates between the 70's and the 120's, but when I go into the Lockpicking screen it rockets up 320 fps!
I had a much more detailed list bookmarked on a site called SlothyTech, but sadly, that page has been taken down, perhaps because of the recent update.
In Adrenaline, My Performance Report shows as Optimal, with an Average FPS of 313.2. The game looks great, but one or more of my new settings is affecting the Lockpicking, and I cannot find any specific information online about which Adrenaline setting or settings would affect this screen in the game.
There doesn't seem to be a mod to fix this, and I'm stymied by my scant knowledge and experience with Adrenaline as well as my limited knowledge of the wide array of video card settings.
I've read on Steam that I could try setting vsync to Application Default, but "vsync" doesn't appear anywhere in the Gaming Settings screen for Fallout 4.
I tried turning off AMD FreeSync and Radeon Enhanced Sync one by one, and then both at the same time, but after launching the game after those three changes, it either stayed the same or the frame rate spiked even higher.
Are there settings outside the Gaming tab for Fallout 4 that I need adjust? If so, I don't know where to look or what to adjust.
FYI, my monitor is a GIGABYTE G27Q 27" 144Hz 1440P Gaming Monitor, 2560 x 1440 IPS Display, 1ms (MPRT) Response Time, 92% DCI-P3, VESA Display HDR400, FreeSync Premium.
I'd really appreciate some tips!

I never thought I would have a story to share in one of these threads, but it finally happened. I apologize for the length (so long it has to be split into 2 parts), but this one is a doozy.
For the sake of telling the story a little smoother, I'm going to explain some things up front. I (female, early 30s; let's call me Molly) am the manager in the accounting office of a very small loan company. Like, really small. We have less than 30 offices with only 2 employees at each office. For this reason, we are kind of low-tech, old-fashioned. I'm talking paper timesheets that get faxed to our office (we're also the corporate office that handles the payroll). Our office hours are 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. with a half-hour lunch. Me & my employee (who we'll call Sally) work this shift. Our boss (who we'll call Greg) is the owner & CEO. He works in the office starting at 9:00 a.m. till whenever he leaves for the day. Most of the time, that's around the time we leave, sometimes it's earlier due to errands he needs to run.
So, in Oct 2022, Sally (female, early 30s) gave us a note that her doctor wants to have daily appointments with her indefinitely. She let us know she would need to leave at 3:30 every day. Greg granted that request & even gave her the opportunity to come in early so she didn't miss any of her 8 hours each day. So, she began coming to work between 6:45 & 7:00 & would take however long of a lunch she needed to so she would have an 8-hour day.
Due to a combination of our fiscal year-end work in Oct & Nov 2022, playing catch-up from Dec 2022 to Feb 2023, & the other coworker (who we'll call Irene) leaving the company in Feb 2023 so we had to play catch-up again for several months before we got used to the bigger workload, I hadn't been able to pay too close attention to Sally's work. But in the middle of Aug 2023, I began to suspect her. I realized that the tasks Sally had in the morning would usually take me an hour & a half to do, which meant I would be relatively finished by the time I would arrive at 8:30. Sally, on the other hand, would only have stuff halfway done. Now, I knew Sally worked slower than me since I knew the job better than she did, but this still seemed very slow. I began to suspect Sally was either not arriving as early as she said she was (she was the only one in the office before 8:30) or she was arriving on time but wasn't working.
On Aug 21 (Monday), I decided to come in early to the office since I had to make up time due to a doctor appointment later in the week. So, I arrived at work at 6:40. 6:45 rolled around...no Sally. 6:50...no Sally. 7:00...same thing. Sally arrived at 7:20. Now, ok, maybe she ran into traffic. However, that's a bit of a coincidence that the one day I show up early unannounced is also the day she happens to be late. But I waited to see what time Sally would write down on the timesheet. However, she didn't write down her time until Tuesday right before she left. She had written down that she had arrived at 7:05. I asked her about it, and her response was "I must have copied it down wrong from my spreadsheet." That's strange, 'cause you hadn't arrived at 7:05 any other day that week. Just where did you copy it down from?
Now, I am curious as to what time Sally puts down when she believes no one has seen what time she arrives. So, for Sept 4-15, I would arrive in the parking lot across the street & read a book & eat breakfast while I wait to see what time Sally would arrive. Every single day, she would arrive around 7:15 or 7:20, but would write down 6:45 or 6:50, a half hour discrepancy every single day. & we have no way of knowing how long she's been stealing a half hour every day. She could have been doing this for the past year since her schedule changed.
On Sept 18, I write down Sally's actual times from these 2 weeks on a paper & tell her to correct all the times I indicated. Sally says that she will use the office clock to write down her times from now on. Wait a minute, you're saying that your phone is a half hour earlier than the rest of the world? But only when you arrive at work. When you go to lunch & leave work, it matches the rest of the clocks. & then switches during the night so your arrival time can be wrong again the next day? Wow, that's a pretty glitchy phone you got there.
On Sept 20 after Sally left, I installed a camera that connects to an app in my phone. I put the camera in a place where it wouldn't be able to see any computers/paperwork & turned off the microphone (I didn't want to risk any company info being seen/heard). I only needed to see when Sally arrived. Where I ended up placing it, I was able to see Sally where she sat at her desk.
On three of the following days, Sally would arrive 10 to 15 minutes after the time she would write down. I speak with Greg about this, & we decide to write her up. By the way, usually when an employee is caught forging the timesheet like this, it's an immediate termination. At any other office, she would have gotten fired in the beginning of Sept after I first discovered the half hour forgery. I am deciding to give her a chance to make this whole thing right.
On Sept 26 (Tuesday), I give Sally the write up when she arrives.
Sally: I'll sign it, but I don't know why. I mean, I get here at 7:00. (Ok, there's a sign right there. Who signs an official write up when their employer is lying or setting them up?)
Me: I've observed you arriving between 7:10 & 7:15.
Sally reads the write up & then keeps it at her desk for a bit after signing it. After plenty of time, I ask for it back. She grabs it, so I lean forward & hold my hand out (our desks are right next to each other), but Sally flings it at my desk. The whole thing is made better by the fact that Greg is out of town Tuesday thru Thursday. So, Sally proceeds to be angry & have an attitude all the way through Thursday. She refuses to talk or answer the phones. She does that tossing/flicking-papers-around, aggressive-typing, heavily-setting-things-down thing people do when they're frustrated or angry (which she did all...day...long). She sped out of the parking lot & down the street so fast that I could hear her engine rev & tires squeal from inside the building.
On Sept 27 (Wednesday), Sally is still doing that slamming things thing. I enjoy not responding to her whatsoever. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she would slam something down & look at me. I wouldn't give any kind of reaction, wouldn't look at her, & it would piss her off. Sally would then start slamming things around again. I admit, that was fun.
On Sept 28 (Thursday), I see on the camera that Sally arrives at 7:00, but then I watch her sit on her phone for 45 minutes! She is still having attitude issues, &—unbelievably—is still slamming things. After she leaves for the day, I then see the calendar that Sally keeps on her desk as I was passing by. On the box for Sept 26 (the day she was written up), she had written the words "F***ING JOKE!". The audacity of her to write that in plain view of everyone in the office & think she wouldn't get in trouble for it.
On Sept 29 (Friday), Sally arrives at 7:00 but sits on her phone for 30 minutes WHILE VAPING! (Not sure about other cities or states, but it's illegal to smoke or vape inside a building in the city where our office is.) But Greg is back this day, & I had been texting him what's been going on. He had texted back he wanted to do a meeting on Friday. So, the 3 of us go into the breakroom for a meeting.
Greg: So, Sally, what's been going on with this timesheet thing?
Sally: I just, I forget to write down the time when I arrive.
Greg: Ok, well, whether it's done on purpose or through negligence, we can't have wrong times on the timesheet. So, from now on, you won't be able to come to work before Molly gets here at 8:30. Now, are there any other problems you'd like to discuss with us?
Sally: (begins getting worked up) I just, I feel like I can't talk to her. She creates such a hostile work environment.
Now, I am blown away. Me? Hostile? I'm autistic, so I'm naturally shy & hate socializing, so I usually don't talk to anyone very much. Everyone I tell this story to, their eyes widen when I mention this, 'cause there's no way anyone would ever describe me as hostile.
Luckily, Greg interrupts her to defend me: This isn't a hostile work environment.
Sally: (backpedaling) Well, I mean, she gets mad at her printer & bangs on it, & that just flashes me back to stuff. I mean, I'm trying to work on myself & the anxiety, & she just sends me back.
Oh, so now, we're claiming we have PTSD & that my "violent" actions are giving her flashbacks? Um, who is it laughing right along with me every time my printer jams? (By the way, I know she's lying about the PTSD, 'cause I have a couple friends with PTSD & recognize the signs. Sally doesn't show any sign of fear or panic or shrinking away from things, nothing like that. There are no signs whatsoever of her being alarmed by anything I do.) Oh, not to mention the double standards. You're allowed to slam things around (for 3 straight days, by the way), but I'm not?
Anyway, we wrap up the meeting after Greg underlines (for Sally's benefit) that everyone in the office needs to get along.
On Oct 2 (the next Monday), I had a good drive & happened to get there at 8:20. Sally arrives at 8:25 & comes in, stopping at my desk.
Sally: (annoyed) Are you gonna be early all week?
Me: (frowning & caught off-guard) Um, I don't know. It just depends how long my drive takes.
Sally: (with a snarky attitude) 'Cause I had to keep driving around waiting for you, so if you're gonna be early, I'd like to know.
Ok, first of all, no one is forcing you to drive around. You can park your car in the parking lot. Do you really think we're gonna fire you for sitting in the parking lot while you wait for me? We only said you couldn't come in & work before I do. & second, it's none of your business when I get to work. My shift starts at 8:30, therefore, you should aim for 8:30, just like Greg told you to do. How am I supposed to predict the exact minute I get to work? & you're gonna get angry at me 'cause I didn't show up before my shift starts? Since when is it a requirement of mine to come into work before I start working?
Well, a bit of malicious compliance in this entitled story: if I can see I'm going to arrive at work more than 5 minutes early, I stop at the store just down the road & shop until 8:30. 'Cause guess what? Sally gets there who knows how early & sits in the gas station across the street, waiting for me. Fine, you wanna be that way? I can be petty, too.
By the way, Sally has a radio talk show she listens to from before I get to work until it ends at 10:00. I'm not into talk shows, but it wasn't too annoying (most of the time), so I didn't say anything about it. The reason why I started having a problem listening to it was that they would get into inappropriate things (s** toy review, for example). It made me super uncomfortable when they did segments like this. From the moment Sally was written up, she started only listening to the show on her headphones, thinking she was punishing me by me not getting to hear the show. Joke's on her. Sally did me a favor by not having to listen to that thing.
Sally was also told that she is no longer allowed to take smoke breaks on the clock. As no one else in the office takes breaks but chooses to work through them, this change would be made so all employees were equal now. But here’s the interesting thing: Sally suddenly stopped taking smoke breaks at all, but her bathroom breaks grew more numerous & longer. When she had been taking smoke breaks, the alarm on her phone would go off at specific times, such as 2:00. She would then go outside to take her smoke break. After the on-the-clock-smoke-break privilege was taken away, the same alarms would go off, such as 2:00. She would then disappear to the bathroom for 15 minutes. & I even smelled smoke in there when I went in there right after one of these long bathroom breaks.
Ever since the write up, there’s been attitude every once in a while. Most of the time, I have no idea what it is I did that could possibly have set her off that day. All I know is that Sally’s suddenly slamming things around again (hmm, PTSD cured now, is it?). & she’s still constantly making mistakes (like she’s always done).
On Nov 27, Sally is working on the Funding (loan proceeds funded onto a customer’s debit card). What we do is get the list of customers, determine how much the office funded that customer, transfer the money from the office’s bank account to the holding account, & then transfer the total from the holding account to the account that directly funds the debit cards to replenish the money. We had two customers with similar names (say, John Smith & Jack Smith). Sally hadn’t paid attention to the whole name & had applied John’s $0 funding to Jack. However, Jack had been funded $250. So, that money was missed, & I had to make a separate transfer for it.
On Dec 4, Sally is working on the Funding & writes down $0 for a customer. But the report from the office says he actually got $96.
On Dec 8 & 9, we discovered 2 checks that were supposed to be sent to our office (one from Oct, one from Sept). Neither had been cashed, & neither had ever reached us, even though we had the rest of the paperwork that would have come with those checks. Due to the dots I had connected, I had a pretty strong hunch that Sally wasn’t thoroughly checking the mail envelopes to make sure they’d been completely emptied before they got thrown away. I believed these checks were still in some envelopes that were then thrown away by Sally.
On Dec 11, on the bank reconciliation sheets we work at the end of the month (like balancing a checkbook), one of Sally’s offices was out of balance by $68, & she couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find it, either. I pulled out the one done for the month before. I couldn’t find it there, either. But I did notice one thing. The checks that hadn’t cleared the bank yet didn’t add up to the total amount of outstanding checks Sally had written down. By $68. I go back to the month before that one. There were a total of $68 in old checks that never got cashed & therefore should have gotten written off on the fiscal year-end at the end of Oct. But she hadn’t transferred them to the new month’s sheet. So, now, we have to hold onto them for a whole year to write off next Oct.
The same day, I went through all the offices to double check the GL codes that we post the expense checks to (GL codes determine where an expense gets coded, e.g., post an electricity payment to the GL code for utilities). The day previously, Sally had gotten several GL codes incorrect in the Miller office. She had forgotten to change the codes from the one for the Checkbook to the ones for the expense account. She had caught those ones since it affected the balance of the Checkbook, so I had helped her fix those properly. However, there were expense checks sent to a GL code that wasn’t the right one that Sally hadn’t caught.
I talk with Greg, as I feel that every time I turn around, I am either retraining Sally on stuff I’ve trained her on multiple times, I’m correcting mistakes on stuff Sally should know how to do by now (‘cause again, I’ve trained her multiple times), or I’m disciplining Sally about stuff she’s doing wrong. Greg asks how many mistakes due to carelessness she’s made in the last 2 weeks. I check my notes & tell him 4. He says that’s too excessive for an accounting office. We need to write her up.
So, I made the write up, but I just know I’m going to be dealing with the same attitude as the last time I had to write her up. & guess what? Greg’s out of town till Thursday again. I used my phone this time to record the audio of the interaction. That way, if Sally has attitude towards me again, I’m able to play the recording to Greg so he can hear what Sally’s like when he’s not here (which is why the following conversation is pretty much word for word).
On Dec 12 (Tuesday), I sat her down first thing.
Me: So, in the past couple weeks, I’ve noticed some errors happening due to carelessness, & they’ve become a bit excessive for an accounting office. The most important thing in an accounting office is accuracy. That’s why we focus so much on thoroughness & attention to detail. So, whatever needs to happen to lessen those errors, whether it’s slowing the pace of the work itself or double & triple-checking the work before it’s finished, it needs to happen. For example, when I work the payroll, after I get the total for all the offices, I then subtract each person’s individual hours to double check my entries. That way, if there is an error, at least I know it wasn’t ‘cause I was going too fast or not paying attention or something. So, whatever you need to do to decrease the mistakes, please—
Sally: What errors are we talking about?
Me: I have a page here with the items from the last couple weeks. (hand her the write up)
Sally: (reads the pages for a minute) Ok…
Me: So, whatever you need to do to—
Sally: (talking quickly ‘cause she’s pissed now) I’m gonna need more time & focus strictly on Funding. I don’t wanna touch mail, I don’t wanna touch anything else. I wanna focus strictly on that. ‘Cause I’m getting 80 plus a day (which was a lie, we never get nearly that much), & now, I’m gonna start getting in trouble if it’s not 110%. I am human. I will make mistakes. So, if that’s not allowed, then…(shrugs) let me know, I guess. I’ll talk to Greg & I guess figure something out. I am human, & I am gonna make mistakes, A. B, I feel like crap. He (Greg) has been in here sick the last week. I caught whatever he has. I’ve been hacking. I’ve been sicker than sh** the last week. I am trying. You guys usually have until the 12th to close the month. Since I’ve worked here, I’ve closed before the 8th. Yeah, I made mistakes. I told you I made a mistake on the Miller office. I knew what happened. So, to throw it in my face again that I already made that mistake is kinda rude, but…(shrugs) I’m actually kinda shocked to see that on there.
Me: Well, you did catch the errors involving the Checkbook, but there were other mistakes on that office that you didn’t catch, & that’s the reason that was listed on there.
Sally goes back to her work, & I decide to not ask her to sign the write up I had given her right away since she was diving right into the Funding. She had expressed she wanted to focus solely on it to minimize mistakes. I wanted to use positive reinforcement to convey that this was good behavior & good thinking, so I decided to wait for her to finish before asking her to sign & return the write up.
Now, here’s the issues with her little outburst above.

1. Sally is complaining that she’s human & makes mistakes & we’re not allowing mistakes. We’re not saying that she can’t make mistakes, ‘cause she’s right. Everyone makes mistakes; I make mistakes. What we’re saying is that she’s making mistakes much too often.
   
2. Sally says the reason for these mistakes the last 2 weeks is ‘cause she’s been sick the last week or so ‘cause she caught what Greg had (do you see the timing problem there?). Also, these kinds of mistakes have been happening for months & months. I only brought these examples up ‘cause they were recent.
   
3. Sally pointed out the fact that she closes each month really quick. We don’t care how fast things get done. Our goal isn’t to get things done quickly but to get things done accurately. If we happen to get it done quickly, that’s just a bonus. We would rather things go slow than to have errors causing problems or costing us money ‘cause we didn’t take the time to make sure it was correct.
   
4. Sally states it’s rude that I’m throwing her error back in her face (you already know my reaction to that). She obviously doesn’t know how a job works. Just ‘cause we discussed this error already doesn’t mean it can’t go on the write up. This is just one of the examples that required us to do a write up. We’re not doing this ‘cause we want to write you up or that we’re looking for excuses to get you in trouble. We’re doing our job. If a situation needs correcting, we have to correct it. We can’t just ignore it. & obviously, me talking about your errors all these months hasn’t helped. You’re still making the same mistakes. So, now, we’ve had to escalate to a write up on paper.
   

Sally doesn’t say another word. She, as expected, starts doing her tossing-things-‘cause-I’m-pissed-off thing. I just go back to my work. I’ve said my piece, now we can put it behind us & move on.
Now, we have until 10:30 to make the transfers for this Funding program in order to get the money back to the account the same day. We are still missing the paperwork for 2 customers from an office. (FYI, when we’re missing paperwork, we call the office & ask them to fax it. If we still don’t get it when it gets close to the transfer deadline, we call again & just ask for the amount to get it done.) So, at 10:20, Sally turns to me.
Sally: What do I do for these 2 customers? Do I just skip them?
Me: (frowning) Do what you usually do when you don’t have the paperwork in time. Call the office—
Sally: (in a sharp tone) I did. (she’s assuming I mean call the office to tell them to fax it)
Me: (ignoring her attitude outburst) Call up the office & ask for the dollar amounts.
Sally: But I don’t want to write down the amount without seeing the actual paperwork. If I’m gonna get in trouble for errors now, I don’t want to take down what could be the wrong dollar amount over the phone. I mean, I think that’s only fair to me.
Me: In the instances that were mentioned, they weren’t cases of taking down an amount over the phone. They were instances where we had paperwork or a report to see the amount. We would never write you up if there was a possibility that the office gave you the wrong amount over the phone.
Sally stares at me for a second & turns back to her desk. I turn back to my own work as Sally then calls up the office. I had to deal with her attitude the rest of the day: throwing mail into the mailbox, throwing open the letter folding machine so it made a big bang on the table. I was trying to still be the usual friendly, professional person I am at work; I told her “See you tomorrow” & everything. Sally wouldn’t talk to me unless she had to.
This is when I discovered that Sally has a habit of lashing out at me when she gets in trouble. The first write up involved her trying to drag me under the bus by claiming I’m hostile. This time, it was more personal. See, we do a Christmas gift exchange at the office; we each buy each other a gift. I had searched over & over trying to find something Sally would like. I finally found this desk calendar with gnomes on it (she likes both of these things), so I got it & a couple small items. I open my gift from Sally, & among a few cheap little things, I found…Sally’s own nearly empty bottle of nail polish remover. Wow, this is the thanks I get for not firing you back in Sept with the whole timesheet forgery thing?
& this is where I leave you until Part 2, the conclusion.

it includes play ins
Top: Blind pick bruisers of spring such as Renekton and Aatrox got nuked meanwhile K'Sante and Zac emerged as the best top lane tanks. Urgot was picked as answer to these tanks but TF, Camile and Vayne cemented themselves as the better responses as MSI progressed. Rumble retained some priority as he is the best AP top laner in pro while Jax retained prio as a good answer to ranged top laners
Jungle: Entire MSI was dominated by two classes: Fighters: Vi, Xin, Lee Sin, Viego, Wukong, Jarvan and tanks [Sejuani, Maokai and Poppy]
but as we went deeper into MSI, AP jungle Nidalee had so much prio in drafts, GenG showed that power farm carry junglers could actually work like Karthus while G2 showed that at the other side of the spectrum, an enchanter jungler: Ivern could also function although that only seemed feasible if Tristana was open
Mid: Scaling control mages + Tristana
later in the tournament, less scaling mages found some play like Neeko and Annie. If there was an angle for an AP Assasin, Akali and Leblanc would suffice. In a bit of a twist, AD melee mids such as Yone and Jayce made their very first appearance in the finals
Bot: Kalista, Varus, Senna and Lucian
Kalista and Varus had the versatility to go Lethality or On hit [Varus was 60-40 on hit vs Lethality while Kalista was 50-50]. Senna was heavily prioritized as she could do well even when behind in XP while her support can run TP and that would change the whole dynamic of the lane swaps. Only Crit ADC that found success was Lucian, Zeri could have probably contested the ADC pool but she was targetted with nerfs in the MSI patch. Draven is a good bully if you were feeling lucky
Support: Lane bully Marksmen: Ashe had the highest presence due to being the #1 lane bully, Kalista support was in the cards if you are Keria
Engage supports: Nautilius was the go to engage support then maybe Alistar, Rell turned out to be a fraud, Poppy if it is a G2 series, Rakan if you were in play ins and didn't figure out that Xayah and Rakan fell off a cliff.
Enchanters: Nami [if Lucian is open] and Renata
Senna supports: Tahm Kench and Ornn but GenG prioritized Maokai in the Grand finals
How effective was the MSI patch in introducing new champions to pro play meta?
Draven, Leblanc, Hwei, J4 and Akali all had some sizeable presence in MSI so the buffs had good effect meanwhile Ryze, Galio, Kai'sa, Jhin and Thresh didn't really get picked up despite good buffs.
Personally I liked the MSI meta, lane swaps weren't as boring as many predicted them to be as there were different takes on it and cheese strats were fun to watch. It's not like much happened in the first four levels of the game when there were no lane swaps
Top laners still had agency at least more than last MSI. Mid could have used more variety as it was only scaling mages but GenG series showed that picks such as Yone and Jayce were all perfectly fine. We saw different types of junglers work so it confirms that its just pros playing comfort rather than these different junglers being bad in pro play
ADC could have used more crit ADCs other than Lucian. I wish that Zeri didn't get nerf, she would still have lower prio than the other lethality/on hit adcs but would at least open more angles for crit ADC in draft. Support meta was good although I also wish they didn't delay the ranged HoB nerfs to 14.10 as it would have severely weakened these lane bully ADCs and specifically Ashe support

It really doesn’t matter, but I’m just curious. I’m a very recent Indiana transplant.
I currently live a few blocks from the Central Library. I stopped in for a library card yesterday. (By the way, awesome library you have here; I’m super impressed).
I just put an offer in on a house (awaiting response from seller) and it’s just over the county line in Hendricks County. But it has an Indianapolis address and zip code.
Let’s say I move there or to a similar home that is right on the line. Do I switch to a Hendricks County library card or does it go by zip code?
I’ve been in this situation before in another state and I lucked out and qualified for cards in both counties because the county I lived in went by street address and the neighboring county went strictly by zip code. Then the post office changed their route a few years later and my zip code changed, and I lost access to the other library for a couple years until the two systems enacted a reciprocal agreement.
I do know I’ll be able to purchase a library card if I lose eligibility, so that’s an option if it makes sense; but I am just randomly curious about it. I’ll still be working downtown so the Central Library would continue to be my most convenient one.