worked out for an hour!


Now that I have your attention, just letting you know I’m going on vacation starting from Thursday night until Sunday or Monday! I will have no wifi or signal so don’t be concerned that I’m suddenly dropping off the face of the planet for 5 days. All is well, I’m gonna go chop down trees all manly and hot and go canoeing in a lake and get eaten by mosquitoes✌️


Worked out for half an hour (just walking on the treadmill) before breakfast.
Having a Chobani flip Yogurt for breakfast (150 calories)
Planning on a muscle milk for lunch (100 calories), and I’ve got an extra one at work so hopefully I’ll have that for a snack if I get hungry. I’ve also got some stupid candy bars so it could go either way.
Not sure what to do about dinner, too depressed to think that far ahead right now, I just want to get through the day.

I’ll be ok, I always am. I just have to not royally fuck up my life in the mean time. I have to not listen to the thoughts that I’m worthless or that my boyfriend doesn’t love me or that he’s bored of me or anything.

Sorry for the depressing rant. It helps sometimes.

Wednesday Night Hotel Club

I have been sitting in my hotel room for the last two hours, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, and a succession of news websites in search of something - anything - to peak my interest. All the while I am resisting the temptation to bust out a code editor and carry on working into the early hours on the commercial project I am here for. They haven’t paid me to do it, but I can see what their project could be if I put just a little more work into it.

Every so often the Amazon tablet I bought myself for Christmas a couple of years ago chirps in the corner of the room - notifications of some sort or another. I should really switch it to silent, or aeroplane mode to shut it up.

My feet ache. I should have taken my shoes off when I got in from the restaurant earlier, but for some reason have not. The shoes are right there - on the end of my legs, but somehow I haven’t managed to get around to unlacing them and kicking them across the floor yet.

Ah, the restaurant. I went out for a hot meal tonight, on account of the persistently miserable weather. It’s worth noting that the rain and wind destroyed the umbrella I bought yesterday morning. It put up a good fight, but a freak gust of wind on a busy road intersection didn’t so much turn it inside out, as munch it up like a tangled spaghetti of coat-hangers. I swore. Lots. And got wet.

If you’ve been reading this blog for some time, you will know there is a pizza restaurant around the corner from the hotel. It’s part of a very large chain of pizza restaurants that crop up in most big towns and cities here, selling fake Italian sounding food that’s probably sold to franchisees from an industrial unit near London somewhere. I somehow managed to buy a main, a drink, and a pudding and pay just under the allowance given by the company I work for while working away.

I still hate sitting alone in restaurants - especially when they are busy. Two pretty girls sat just across from me, deep in conversation about whichever Netflix shows they happened to be watching at the moment. Behind me a group of fifty-somethings chatted about how funny it was that one of them had arrived late. It really was that boring. I ate my food, drank my drink, paid the waitress, and wandered back.

I travel home tomorrow afternoon. I have tickets for a train a little after 4pm. Friday morning will be filled with paperwork and email. The weekend will be filled with chores. Next week will be filled with continued headbutting of the laptop - but at least I’ll be able to make a sandwich in the kitchen, pour myself a coffee when I want, and sit in the lounge talking absolute rubbish with my children. It’s surprising how quickly you miss the rubbish.

anonymous asked:

can you give me a matcchup? i'm 5'8" with red hair and grey eyes, and i generally work out 12-18 hours a week. I'm a gemini and really outgoing and I love to meet new people about as muchas I love food. I really like astrology and fashion, and i do a lot of art singing and writing poetry.

Yeah baby of course!! Okay but like boo lowkey you sound so so cute hmu?? 😉 lol😂😂 But!! I’m super duper sorry this took SOOO long to come out!

I match you with…Nishinoya Yuu!

Originally posted by odd-ballduo

You and noya hit it off so quickly! You guys are so alike in many ways. Especially how outgoing you both are! That’s actually how you met in the first place. You coincidentally bumped into him one day when you were cutting through the gym and he complimented you on how cute you are. From that day on you both grew on each other and started hanging out. Most of the time you both are busy doing other things in your life especially yuu given volleyball takes up most of his time but he always finds time for you no matter what.  Both you and yuu spend time either going out to eat or to the gym. Though when not doing that he loves to go out with you and go stargazing, its actually his favorite thing to do with you! Yuu was definitely attracted to your height. He’s always been attracted to tall girls! Not only that he finds your red hair and grey eyes so attractive, its not everyday for him to see a girl with red hair!


some unlucky kiddos :’)


26 october 2016 - glendale, az

ice ice paladin‧₊˚

Why Commenting On FanFiction Is Important

Alright kids, Boo here with a hopefully non-arrogant PSA.

I’m a writer of FanFiction because I like it and it’s my preferred genre (also a great way to receive feedback on writing that I can use on originals, bref). But like with most artistic work posted online, I have very little feedback.

When I was in a slightly writing rut, I cranked one shots left and right, nothing out of the ordinary. But instead of people commenting with their thoughts and good feedback, they just gave me requests.

I don’t think I could ever put into words what that felt like, but I’ll try (the irony of being a writer). It suddenly felt tiring, being a writer, and very quickly I stopped writing altogether. I only ever showed my friend what I wrote and left it at that. I haven’t published anything for a while after. It felt like people were treating me like a mule wanting me to do work for them, and I just wasn’t up for that. I lost my will to write, and then I began to think, “If I post something else other than what was requested, will people even read it?”

Then you get the infamous comments, “You haven’t forgotten about my request right??? Here’s another.”

That just adds anxiety and guilt. I’m purposely ignoring the comments to save my own uncreative ass, at least that’s what it feels like.

After weeks of convincing myself that my stories are worth sharing no matter how many people read them, I started writing and publishing again while working on some longer pieces. Slowly it got better.

Now this week, I remembered I joined another fanfiction platform, and realized I had never published anything on it. I had an idea, and so I started writing. It didn’t come out as I imagined it would, but I was so proud? Like, I started feeling happy about what I created again. Like genuine happiness that I haven’t felt in months since my last published work.

A few hours later, I get this comment:

I cranked out three 3k stories after reading this.

In four days.

It never happened before, and I don’t know how many times it will happen again. It was one comment, but it gave me so much fighting spirit that I think I’m on my way to regaining my initial writer mindset.

Fanfiction writers depend on feedback as a validation that their stories matter to people. If you’re wondering why your favourite author hasn’t updated/posted in a while, ask yourself, “Did I do everything that would convince them to continue writing this?”



From the Waxing Table

harry stripped in the behind the album vid and i… got some feels about it… so enjoy harry’s pain kink mixed with a bit of waxing :)

Keep reading

My new manager fired me. I fired his store.

This happened about 6 years ago.

I worked at (store that sells donuts that you may or may not dunk) that was in a somewhat far off location from the rest of the city in a relatively new shopping center. I was there when the store opened, and we never really got much traffic, but there was two large car clubs that came out twice a week to meet, and chat, and generally bring our store a lot of traffic. We were told that the clubs pretty much keeps the store afloat.

I worked there for a long while, and my manager was awesome. She did a great job of keeping everything stocked, gave out hours to people who actually worked their ass off instead of playing favorites, and she was never unfair about warnings or suspensions.

One day, she got seriously ill and had to quit. I never knew the details, but it was serious enough for her to quit her job. Then comes Swagger McA**hole, our new manager. Now, Swagger McA**hole had all the charm and wit of a rabid chihuahua. He was a generally angry man, and thought himself to be above everyone else in the store. He popped the collars of his button up shirt like he was going to bring that trend back from the dead. Needless to say, Swagger McA**hole wasn’t well liked.

He fired and replaced people left and right for usually petty or outright wrong reasons, and I was the last one standing, because for some reason, I was always asked to make the regular’s coffee, because I would remember their names, what they wanted, and how they liked it, and I usually had it in the process of being made as soon as I saw them walking up to the door. The car clubs knew me by name.

Enter Hannah Handjob. She started hanging around the store. A lot. Swagger McA**hole and Hannah Handjob would often hang out in the Manager’s office, sometimes with the door closed. Like we didn’t know what the fuck they were doing. A short while later, I find myself fired for some bullshit reason. I think what was written on my exit paperwork (which I refused to sign) was “wasting inventory”, whatever the fuck that meant.

Sorry for the long backstory. Here comes the revenge part. Remember those car clubs I talked about? I found their website and message boards, and told them my story. They told me how incredibly shitty they thought it all was, and always thought Swagger McA**hole was a poor replacement for our old manager. Both the clubs agreed to find a different venue for their morning to late afternoon meetups.

That was the death knell for that location. Three months later, I go back to turn in my uniforms, because I’m sick of looking at them in my closet, and they’re all closed up. I don’t know for sure that I had anything to do with their closing, but I’m at least 80% sure the car clubs were keeping them afloat.