I'm doing a lot of work on our house... repairing & refinishing the hardwood floors, repairing wall plaster, putting in better doors and fixtures, installing curtains and shelving, etc. The idiots who flipped the place just coated everything in this horrible white latex paint and then put down brown carpet everywhere. I've been doing a lot of scraping and sanding to bring back the original trim and window casings. It's very satisfying. I feel good thinking about my little family being in a house I've done so much work on. — b3W3kiUiYWGK That's the dream man. TBH, I'll prolly be dead before I'm 35 though. If I don't have some kind of artistic success by 30, I'll call it quits, otherwise we'll see.
Brutal day of meetings. And I'm sick. Hopefully it's just a cold.
What about the people who own the cars? What about the people who make their living selling them? Or the people who make their livings making them? Those are people's livelihoods man, those are their families who won't be able to eat or have a roof over their heads. — zOMTUea0qvTH People need jobs (at least in our current economic system). They don't need jobs making things that are killing us all. Cars are not the only industry that we'd eliminate, if we were seriously interested in surviving as a race. And we'd figure out a way to keep everyone eating, too. Not that I have any faith in such changes actually happening. Hell, we can't even give up football, though it's basically "let's kill young men for entertainment."
Still having small "oh shit, maybe I'm a gay guy, not a bi woman" epiphanies. Today's is pretty unpleasant. Thinking back, I realize I've been a real shit to the women I've dated, compared to the men. Not horrible, but I guess what you'd expect from someone who didn't care that much about the people they were dating. Going through the motions of romantic gestures even though I know I'm getting bored with them. Ghosting a couple months in. Not bothering to answer the "I had a nice time" text after first date. Whereas I'm so good at making men feel loved that I've had real problems with them getting too serious about me too quickly. God, I feel like a shithead. I need to find all those women and send them a nice apology card with flowers or something. "I'm so sorry I used you as a weird gender beard, please let me know if you want me to drop by so you can slap me"
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