Mariangel. Argentina. Med student, currently on mental health break. She/Her pronouns, but will respond to "dude"I'm playing Sailor Moon Drops (because I'm a child with no self-control) Add me! ID: ba6dbe5.
Behold my gloriously retro inaccurate Tyrannosaurus music box, playing “Yesterday” by the Beatles. When fully wound the song will play for a surprisingly long time, becoming ever slower and sadder.
It’s always the “it’ll only take a moment” argument.
So this thing and keep your vegetables fresh longer. It’s only 5 minutes work.
Do this every day to keep your house clean, only 15 minutes each day.
Do this little thing every day to improve your energy, it’s 10 minutes every morning.
Want to lose weight? Just a 30 minute work out every day.
But all that shit adds up, you know?
Suddenly it’s an hour each day. And the “5 minutes” is bullshit. They don’t tell you it’s 10 minutes preparing and 5 minute cleanup. Yeah, 30 minute work-out. But I’ve got to change into something else and I’ve got to shower afterwards.
And then you lose 2 hours a day. On top of all the other things you have to do. So when do you relax? When do you sit down and watch TV? Read a book? Take a bath?
And if doing that workout is relaxing to you? Awesome. But you’re lucky, bc for a lot of people it isn’t. And I’m tired of people telling me it is. I could manage that 30 minute work out, tbh. I could. But the changing outfit, the shower after, and/or the getting up earlier to do it. I can’t do that. I just can’t. Stop telling me it’s “easy”. It fucking isn’t.
This post isn’t about depression. it’s executive functioning disorder. I know a lot of people with depression relate to this. Aparantly adhd and depression are frequently misdiagnosed as one another.
But this isn’t a case of “just get up, you can do it. You’ll feel better”. I’m not feeling bad. I just can’t time manage to pull it of successfully. Doesn’t mean I don’t try.
i just remembered one of the best moments of my childhood so imma share with the class
picture this: 2004. i was a wee 8-year-old spending some time with my grandma in the small countryside city where my mom is from.
now i don’t want you to picture this as a quaint little town full of trees or what not. my family has always been poor, and even in the context of this already poor little town. the city is fucking hideous. i’m talking exposed brick self-made houses. i’m talking bathrooms with slightly caved in floors threatening to let you fall in the septic tank while you’re showering. i’m talking a thin coating of red earth on pretty much everything. i’m talking about a sun that burns everything it touches.
i, however, was none the wiser. my grandma was very stern, but had a soft spot for me, and was more than eager to let me play in the street, something i would never EVER be able to do back at home. I’d play in the street from morning to sundown, grandma would literally throw me in the shower, i’d collapse almost immediately on the bed and rinse and repeat.
this town specifically is in a very dry area of my state. it honest to god borders a desert. so it’s very hot and doesn’t rain much, but when it does, the town has absolutely NO FUCKING CLUE how to deal with the rain.
on that specific day, it had been raining quite a lot. i was p bummed i couldn’t go out to play so my grandma, knowing the granddaughter she had, had me help around the house to keep me busy. I was sorting different scraps of fabric grandma was sewing into a quilt when we heard a loud BOOM-
and my grandma’s house at the time was at the foot of a hill. on top of this hill was a cemetery built in the 1940′s, in between the two there was (still is) a slum where most of my grandma’s friends lived. Grandma looked up from her sewing machine, raised an eyebrow, and went back to her sewing. Gunfight, what about it? We were used to it at the time.
then there was another BOOM-
and then grandma was like aight this is weird. is way louder than a gun. what the fuck.
so she opened the front door just in time for one of her friends to BARGE into the home. I’m saying the SWAT team had NOTHING on this woman. this seventy year-old lil’ old lady BURST into the house and i was like Tia Eurita what in the actual fuck-
and this woman, honest to god, simply BELLOWS
“DONA DELFINA. THE DEAD ARE COMING DOWN THE HILL. THEY HAVE SONIA IN HER HOUSE”
the cemetery wall had caved in because of the rain and all of the corpses came sliding down the hill, trapping people in their houses. Grandma took one look at her friend, picked up her rosary beads, and sat down to pray (but she couldn’t because she was laughing too hard)
anyways i thought this had been a product of my imagination until the other day i needed to look up court decisions about something unrelated and i came across this decision where the court condemned the city to pay 40k to the woman in compensation for being trapped inside her house by a corpse after the cemetery wall fell down and i was like
I recently started working in hospitality, and I’ll tell you guys right now, the trope of “there was only one bed” is not as rare as you’d think in real life. A few times a week, at least, I have guys come in who are working together on projects in town or passing through who have to literally book the last room I have available for the night and lo and behold — there is only one bed, and guess what, they give each other a side-eyed look and begrudgingly take it. So write it up, it happens all the time!!!
Never let your There Was Only One Bed dreams die. I was secretly in love with my best friend for over a year when she graduated and moved to Oklahoma (like 1000 miles away) for grad school. Between that travel restrictions, we were so scared we’d never see eachother again.
At the end of summer, when Covid numbers were at a lower point, I took the risk to visit her in her new apartment and I quickly realized that, unlike when I’d spent the night at her house before, the couch wasn’t made up like a bed. She explained that since her new couch was so fancy and pink, I couldn’t possibly sleep on it, and so I needed to sleep in the bed with her. You know, out of necessity. I woke up with her snuggled around me in the middle of the night.
We’re dating now, and I genuinely think I’m going to marry her. Just the other day, though, I mentioned that if she hadn’t been weird about her fancy couch, I probably never would have like confessed my feelings. AND THEN she stood up, took the cushions off the fancy couch, UNFOLDED IT INTO A HIDE-A-BED, and said “I KNOW.”
THIS GIRL. ORCHESTRATED. BED SCARCITY. JUST SO SHE COULD MAKE THE “ONLY ONE BED” EXCUSE. Y’all when I said I just about lost my goddamn mind, I just about lost my goddamn mind. I love this sneaky bitch so much and the moral of this story is BE THE ONE BED YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE WORLD.
Fanfic imitates life, and life imitates fanfic. It’s full circle really.
Camouflage Portraits Peruvian artist Cecilia Paredes in her self portraits disguises herself by painting her skin and wrapping herself in pattern clothes that match their backdrops.
