Bombay house chicken tikka masala

Using a throwaway because this gets real personal and I don't want anything linking back to me or my ex.
So, as the title says, I just got dumped. We were celebrating her birthday with a nice dinner at her house. I enjoy cooking for her, so I made a nice chicken pasta that she requested which I had made for her previously. She had some work to do foe Uni, so we didn't talk much beforehand, but when we sat down to eat, she said she had something to tell me.
For context, we haven't been intimate in around six months. I have a fairly high libido, and every time I would try to initiate, she would say she wasn't in the mood. Honestly, this was never that big of a deal for me, although it did kind of suck. She told me a change in her meds had affected her sex drive, and I understood and never pressured her to do anything sexual. The only time it really bothered me was during a rough patch for me mentally where I felt like she didn't find me attractive anymore. She assured me that she did and that was the end of it.
It was not the end of it. She laid everything out for me:

• She loves and and still cares deeply about me.
• She isn't attracted to me and hasn't been for a while.
• She's interested in another guy.
• She no longer considers us exclusive.

I was shocked. I always thought we had a good relationship, and for the first several years of it, we were very sexually active. I didn't know how to process it at all. So I told her I was going to sit in my car for a bit, and after a while I came back in to grab my stuff to leave. I didn't really want to interact with her anymore, so I just briefly said bye to her and her cats and left.
Later, when I wasn't texting her back because I'd just been dumped and then drove for 45 minutes to get home, she said something along the lines of "glad to know how much of our affection was based on sex".
It's been a few days since all that and I just... I don't know how to process any of this. I've never been super happy with my appearance, and this has dug up a lot of feelings I thought I had moved past related to that. I'm obviously sad that the woman I loved dropped me, but I'm also just so frustrated and angry about how it all happened. And the insinuation that the only reason I gave a shit about our life together was to try and bed her, despite being entirely OK with a dead bedroom for a while due to things she was just blatantly lying to me about.
I haven't gotten any more details from my I guess now ex. Obviously, there's no reconciling here. I can't talk someone into thinking I'm attractive. But I want to just get some closure from all this so I can sit down and figure out how I can manage my feelings. We're still on speaking terms now, if it matters.
Any suggestions for how to try and navigate this minefield? It feels like this is going to eat me alive if I don't do something to mitigate this gnawing in my chest.

All values in USD.
Assets and Debt
Retirement Balance: nope because I'm planning on leaving the US (for my bf) after finishing school. Not sure how retirement balance works across countries.
Equity: nope but almost bit and bought a house in the middle of the insane housing price crisis? windfall?? in 2021. Boy would my life be different rn
Savings account balance: zip but 90k in bonds
Checking account balance: 60k
Credit card debt: nada, and using a debit card in Europe
Student loan debt: nothing, because my parents (bless them) paid for my (subsidized, bless FAFSA + need based scholarships) college tuition, and I got a free masters (thanks to my advisor + TAships) and am currently doing a free (aka on my advisor's bill again lmao + TAships) phd
Income
Income Progression: a string of tech internships (every single summer except freshman and masters and first year of phd) with pay from between 5500/month to 11000/month (pre-tax, adjusted for bonus and currency exchange rate) That high end was from a fancy startup and pre-brexit lmaoooo. Low end was gov work. And my current phd income is 2500/month, so this is actually an income regression lol
Main Job Monthly Take Home: Current internship is 5000/month but my overall taxes are low because I'm not here long enough for it to bump up my income taxes more than one rung. So keep in mind I make like 1700/month the rest of the year
Side Gig Monthly Take Home: I wish! Once I get my big girl job I'm going remote and setting up a ceramics studio, a grocery store, and then volunteering and making games. Work can go stuff itself. Honestly the more and more I work the more and more I feel like I want to turn stage left exit society, tyvm. People meme academia as being abstract and useless (and sometimes toxic...that one's deserved maybe) but unless you are at a specific type of company, corporate research can be equally "useless" but by way of having insanely short (as in, to production by year's end) deadlines so you're kind of forced to "fit a square peg into a round hole" eg work on a business problem that you (or your higher up) did not spend enough time defining and then somehow make it look like research when maybe the most cost-effective solution was something else entirely...sorry for rant
Do your parents pitch in monthly? Been financially independent since last year...to my great surprise. I used to be financially independent since undergrad graduation but apparently my mom started sneakily paying off my CC debt again in my phd so I had to change the linked bank account back. My mom thinks I'm poor lmao...I'm not
Expenses
Rent (includes utilities): 2000 ouch (Europe) + 500 (US) monthly
Transport: bike (free after fixed costs, yay!) and bus (free with school)
Renters insurance: none. Getting renter's insurance is like wearing my retainer...everyone tells me to do it (including myself) but I make up a million excuses as to not
Savings contribution: whatever's left in the month. Usually 400+-100
Investment contribution: is the stock market even real? I'm just kidding. But I don't really understand my finances, and I feel embarrassed about that, but at the same time I feel like after factoring in all my personal considerations, I'm better off not doing anything other than guaranteed bonds.
Debt payments: no. college is done, no house, no car
Cellphone: Prepaid in Europe, like 5 a month. But my US phone is actually on my parent's family plan. So I guess I'm still not financially independent...
Subscriptions: Occasional magazines 50 annually, school union 100 annually
Regular therapy: None. Therapy has been a hit and miss for me
Paid hobbies: Art supplies like 100 a year, books like 300 annually, audio like 100, bike stuff 100, kitchen stuff...400, fancy specialty ingredients...800, clothes 400 but my mom gifts me a lot over the holidays like 500-1000 worth, and gifts for f&f I budget around 800 a year
[Money Diary]
[Tuesday]
7am: wake. super groggy. Drink two gulps of fanta to actually wake and immediately regret it
8am: on the bus to work. Today is going to be a slow day which is nice.
8:30am: grab a rhubarb and rose yogurt for breakfast ($2). Delicious. Have to order this somehow when I'm back in the states.
12pm: Brought eggplant and bolognese for lunch. Eat with another intern and talk random stuff about our phds.
4:30pm: leaving early cuz today is my bf's last night in the country. I head to a bakery and grab a croissant and pretzel and baguette ($7) for him as an apology for an argument we had yesterday. I also head to a grocery to grab a pumpkin ($10) for curry later. I race to the bus! Almost miss it. Everyone is looking at me because I'm panting and I feel that strange awkwardness you get from being caught running without gym clothes.
6pm: Back home. We heat up leftovers (ramen for me and bolognese for him) and watch a chill video about balancing in gaming. It was either this or a math video and the math video was too long.
7pm: I ask him about when he's coming back to see me so I can let my mom know if my schedule fits my family's June paris trip or not (my mom's extremely hyped about this so I would like to come.) Because he's been dragging his feet figuring out his schedule we get into another argument, which then carries back into our argument from yesterday.
9pm: Answer some emails and book a flight for my return trip because my sister is going to her dream college and I want to be with her on visit week ($156)
10pm: I'm trying to read my paper for tomorrow's meeting but it's not going well because we are still talking about our problems
12pm: We cuddle and sleep. Argument's not resolved because neither wants to give
Total: 19 (Food) + 156 (Plane)
[Wednesday]
6am: wake. notice that it's 6am and go back to sleep
7am: wake and wake up bf. He's leaving today and so we cuddle, but like sadly (LDR, whats new.) Eventually I get hungry so I go and munch on plums. I am a bit distracted because I have a lot of meetings that I'm not well prepared for.
8:30am: catch bus. We joke a bit about yesterday's argument. Eventually, say goodbye when I transfer trams. I watch a video to prepare for my first meeting on the tram. Then I have a meeting, read to prepare for next meeting, rinse, repeat. Go out to eat with coworkers ($18)--conversations are so awkward (because of me. I don't have the extra mental capacity to try socializing with overworked dudes 4 years older than me and I've lost a concerning amount of EQ over the course of my phd.)
2:00pm: After a particularly stressful meeting (went well, thanks to my clutch skills) I decide I need to take a walk outside as a break. I go to the bakery to buy a chocolatine and apple danish ($5). I am not even hungry. I am just retail theraping and desserts look cute and smell good. Head back and have string of meetings until the end of the day. Very angry about my schedule
5:30pm: say fuck it cuz my brain is shot and go home. Why am I the only one who leaves before 6? Isn't this supposed to be Europe? I hate working a 9-6.
6pm: eat dinner (ramen), shower with rice on the stove (no rice cooker), rice burns omg now the bottom of the pan is burnt. I soak the pan overnight and leave my personal pan out for people to use.
7pm: reddit as revenge procrastination. I make a note to buy steel wool for the burnt pan
9pm: start writing money diary. Have wayy too much fun writing money diary while snacking on Comte and aloe vera water
11pm: realize its late and I have to finish reading a paper for Friday. I read a bit of the paper
1am: sleep
Total: 23 (Food)
[Thursday]
6am: Wake and look at random stuff on reddit for an hour and a half. I don't feel that hungry so I head out to work.
8:30am: I am very sleepy for some reason. I don't have a lot of meetings today, so I check emails, slack, and find a manageable task for the day. I end up getting distracted dealing with administrivia (ugh visa work!) I see that I have a seminar I want to attend the night and mark that down too.
10am: I decide I should try doing something productive so I start brainstorming. It doesn't really get anywhere, but I've realized that I probably need to read another paper to get a better idea of what I should do.
12pm: Head out to eat with other interns. I get shawarama ($16.) Delicious. Head back for more meetings. I try to read a bit but my focus is pretty shot so I start doing a more chill writeup instead.
7pm: We are having drinks at a bar tonight, and it takes time for people to get ready so I work late. We head out to the bar, which is crowded. I order a burger and soda because I don't want to make my sickness worse ($20.) We have a good time chatting and I get closer with some coworkers I didn't know well.
7:45pm: I say goodbye and leave early. As I'm scrolling through my phone on the late night bus, I realize that I've missed the seminar. I'm legitimiately devastated. I was thinking this seminar would help a lot with me pushing through a huge bottleneck in my thesis that's been stressing me out for the last year. I panic message my labmate to ask if the seminar was recorded, and thank the fucking lord, buddha, allah, hayao miyazaki, yes. It was recorded. My pants on fire are doused, my soul is saved. I cannot wait to fucking graduate.
9pm: I get back and notice the cleaning lady's cleaned the burnt pan. I feel a bad but grateful. After showering I am tired as hell. I really can't work today, but I stubbornly stay awake thinking that if I lay in bed scrolling through eBay long enough I might recharge. It doesn't work but I find some really nice stuff (cool architectural glass vase from a designer whose stuff I usually hate, secondhand clothes from one of my fav designers, suitcase from a brand with a style that I love but quality that is absolute trash for its price, and a gift for my college friend for her next bday) that I want to bid on.
11pm: Sleep
Total: 36 (Food)
[Friday]
6am: Wake and look at videos but now with zen. I have come to terms with my laziness. I get out of bed at 7:30 instead of 7:45 (progress!) and I snack on the chocolatine from two days ago. I finally find the time and motivation to deal with some administrivia and I head to work. On my morning bus trips, I like to press my forehead against the cool window glass and zone out to stripes of greenery but today I'm thinking about eBay and how I might travel to go visit my favorite eBay stores in person lol. A quick google search shows that a roundtrip ticket is $200. Interesting.
12am: Nice lunch with coworkers at a bakery. I get a croissant sandwich ($6) and a gift for one of my coworker friends ($14).
4pm: I wrap up writing a draft and go chat and review some stuff for school and then catch up with my coworker friend to give her the gift. 6pm: Head to the grocery for a dinner salad, plums, and some orange-mango juice ($13). Look for steel wool but there is none???
6:30pm: shower because I feel a little under the weather.
8pm: call my bf and tell him some juicy gossip at work. He gets bored around the 1 hour mark.
11pm: I start working on my writeup for school. I message the dude who is receiving the writeup that it's gonna be late. He is really nice about it but I feel like I'm taking advantage of his kindness because I am always late. Disappointed in myself but not sure how to change.
1am: sleep
Total: 33 (Food)
[Saturday]
6am: wake. Seriously not motivated to continue the writeup. I waste time on eBay and youtube for 5 hours.
11am: get dressed, brush teeth, and look alive. I've been planning out my day a bit so I call my bf while I clean my room and check up on my fridge. I toss out a quarter kg of ground beef that I forgot to finish, it is two days past expiry. I take stock of what I need for meal prep this week (carrot, onion, meat, steel wool) and load up my laundry before heading to the grocery. I end up also getting a lightweight aluminum bowl (it says stainless steel though??) for washing, blueberries, dried mangos, mushroom medley ($35.) I make curry with rice for next week and rice balls to add to miso soup later.
4pm: Eat curry. I call my bf after and try to write my writeup but I get very frustrated over trying to understand a paper and complain to my bf
7pm: I head over to my friend's place for a going-away party. I feel a bit ambivalent about attending because I still have my writeup but I had already agreed to come and I will miss these people when they leave. I want to aim to leave around 9pm. The host's house is lovely and we have some great food.
9:40pm: I head back home, shower, and work on my writeup.
11pm: sleep
Total: 35 (Food)
[Sunday]
7am: wake. My wakeup time is off from normal but then I remember that today is daylight savings in Europe. I still feel tired so I end up watching some dumb videos on youtube. I bid on two items on eBay ($70...tentatively). My friend from uni messages me about meeting up to chat tonight. Hyped.
11:45am: I remember my clothes are still in the dryer. The landlord wants the laundry room free between 11am and 3pm for airbnb reasons. I rush down to grab them. I got there right on time because the landlord has 3 minutes on the washer left.
12pm: Heat up curry and eat it with an apple, some Comte, and a plum. I take a supplement with water. I've been forgetting to do that.
12:30pm: Start working on writeup. I am determined to finish it before there is no sun left so I can enjoy the outdoors a little this weekend. Have my bf on vc.
4pm: One of my bfs jokes lands the wrong way and we have to talk about it. I'm fuming mad because I'm wasting time here.
6pm: Facetime with my friend from college! It's been awhile so we catch up for a long time. 9pm: Heat dinner (curry) and eat. Then I go and read a bit more.
11pm: I have a bit of a mental breakdown because I can't finish the writeup by the weekend, and it's not because I don't have time, but because I have bad mental health around it. I have a long heart to heart with my bf over the phone. I cry a little. Life is sometimes hard and everyone's life is really hard at some point. At some point I just start rambling about nothing. I fall asleep at 1:30am.
Total: 70 (eBay)
[Monday]
4am: wake. I have a bit of a shitty morning because my eyes are still swollen. I woke up early to work on this writeup but tbh I'm barely awake and not in the mood. This was a bad idea. I intermittenly wake and sleep between 4am and 6am, of which at tail end I realize that I'm just playing myself for a fool and then I actually sleep for a good hour or so.
7:15am: Wake for real and get ready.
8:30am: Arrive at work. I buy yogurt ($2) and eat a banana while checking emails. I decide to use company time to work on my writeup because I'm blocked at work by someone else right now anyways (this is about as far as my lukewarm ass will r antiwork.)
12am: Lunch with coworkers. I have a sandwich I really don't care for ($10.) I'm a bit woozy from lack of sleep so I don't remember much. Also, I got my period.
1pm: Meetings, meetings, meetings. So many meetings.
6:30pm: Meetings end. Catch up with my intern friend before she leaves. Will miss her. I go the grocery to buy a baguette ($1) and then go to the fancy, overpriced but also conveniently-located-right-next-to-my-bus-stop bakery to get a croissant and chocolates for my period ($25.)
7:30pm: I grab Mickey D's because I want to. Fish filet sandwich, fries, chicken nuggets, and a soft drink ($18.)
8:00pm: zone out in bed and chat with my bf
11:00pm: Work on the writeup
1am: sleep
Total: 56 (Food)
[Reflections]
Weekly total:
Food + Drink: 207
Home + Clothes + Beauty (aka eBay): 70
Transport: 156
Honestly, this was the first time in a long time that I had done such a detailed review of my week. I was honestly a bit impressed by how often I wound up on eBay (ngl the times I'm on reddit, I'm oftentimes searching for new brands and designers I like, so that I can go find them...on eBay. It kind of feels a little like I may have a bit of a shopping addiction?) I use it wayy too often to cope. The nice thing about it is that I always find great deals on eBay, but I think it's probably time to switch hobbies.
Also, I need better work hygiene. Like sleep hygiene but for work. I might start going into the office weekends just so that I can wrap up stuff early, leave, and then actually have a weekend.
This week was a bit pricier than usual because I ate out for dinner and bought a plane ticket, but tbh it's not that ooc for me. Food is almost exactly the same as what I spend a week in the US and usually I budget 400/m for misc stuff so it seems like my habits haven't changed much even after moving lol. I know some people might balk at the idea of 800/m for food and 400/m discretionary spending on a 2k/m income but being no car + having the school pay for my insurance (& offering a lot of free things in general) + most importantly, no debt makes it less of a dangerous risk and more of a poor choice lmao. In Europe, I think I will end up spending more on misc things here than back in the US because Europe offers a higher density of concerts, entertainment, and designers that I like within a 30 euros train distance (and 200 euros plane distance for the ones I really like.) My personal preference is to spend <2 hours a month total thinking abt finances (so basically budgeting if I have a major life change + just going thru my CC statement and updating my tracker) so I am happy with how I spend and prefer to overspend a bit rather than think about it too much.
For those who are curious, my monthly budget here:
food (weekly): 70 for groceries + unavoidable 50 for eating with coworkers 3x a week
overall (monthly): 3700 (income) - 2500 (rents) = 1200 - 300 (food after sodexo) = 900 - 600 (misc spending) = 300 (base savings) + 1000 (relocation) = 1300 (total savings) + a bit more after tax return
​
Hope you enjoyed reading! I'm curious to see people's reactions.

Hey Everyone!
These are some of a collection buy out I did recently. Looking to trade for pokemon cards. Old, new, I am interested in looking! The worst I can say is no :)
Consoles Black gamecube Ps1 x2 Snes x2 N64 Games Beetle Adventure Racing N64 Beetle Adventure Racing N64 Perfect Dark Nascar 2000 N64 Beast Wars N64(Damaged Label) Army Men Sarge's Heroes N64 Armorines N64 Nascar 95 N64 Off Road Challenge N64 Turok Rage Wars N64 Turok 2 (Black) N64 Turok 2 (Gray) N64 Waialae Country Club N64 Vigilante 8 N64 Wave Race N64 Top Gear Rally N64 Knockout Kings 2000 N64 Boss Hunter 64 N64 Nightmare Creatures N64 Supercross 2000 N64 Command & Conquer N64 Roadsters N64 Gameboy Games Final Fantasy Legend III 3DS Games Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time PS3 Games PS3 Uncharted 3 PS3 Gran Turismo 5 Ps3 Batman Arkham Asylum PS3 Assassin's Creed PS3 Uncharted 2 PS3 Skyrim PS3 Red Dead Redemption PS3 Madden 07 PS3 Little Big Planet 2 PS3 Little Big Planet PS3 Infamous 2 Disc Only PS3 Grand Theft Auto 5 PS3 Infamous PS3 Modern Warfare 2 PS3 Call of Duty 4 PS3 Black Ops PS3 Arkham City Xbox 360 Games Xbox 360 Halo Reach Disc Only Xbox 360 Bioshock Xbox 360 Bioshock 2 Xbox 360 Sleeping Dogs Xbox 360 Modern Warfare 3 Xbox 360 Modern Warfare 2 Xbox 360 Modern Warfare Xbox 360 Dragon Ball Z Ultimate Tenkaichi Xbox 360 Sonic Sega All Stars Racing Xbox Original Games Xbox Grand Theft Auto The Trilogy(Complete) PS1 Games PS1 Team Rocket Rescue Disc Only PS1 Gran Turismo Disc Only PS1 Twisted Metal 2 Disc Only PS1 Activision Classic Games Wii Games Wii Think Smart Family Wii Secret Saturdays Wii NBA Live 08 Wii WWII Aces Wii Ghostbusters Wii Ice Age 2 Wii Chicken Shoot Wii Endless Ocean Wii Avatar The Game Wii The Simpsons Game Wii Goldeneye 007 Wii Cabalas Dangerous Hunts 2011 Wii Red Steel 2 Wii Super Mario All Stars Limited Edition SNES Games SNES Animaniacs SNES Krusty's Super Fun House SNES Indiana Jones SNES Donkey Kong Country Snes Donkey Kong Country 3 SNES Super Mario All Stars SNES Super Mario World SNES Super Mario World N64/SNES Manuals/Posters N64 Banjo Kazooie Manual N64 Super Mario 64 Manual SNES Michael Andretti's Manual SNES Indiana Jones Manual SNES Super Mario Kart Manual SNES Console Instruction Manual SNES Super Mario All Stars Manual SNES Super Mario World Manual SNES Nigel Mansell's World Racing Manual SNES Wheel of Fortune Manual SNES Home Alone Manual SNES Indiana Jones Poster

I used to think success was driving down a beach-front highway having to choose between breathing in the new car smell from your convertible, or putting the top down for some salt air.
1 week ago, I had neither of those choices and today the very thought of beach air and new car smell makes me fucking sick.
Before I get into this, let me be clear: this is not a confession of guilt for anything I’ve done. I never wanted all this shit. From the very start it was only about one thing: Getting my son, James a birthday present.
I wasn’t even trying to get him the BEST or the BIGGEST or the most EXPENSIVE birthday present. Just
A present. The present I set out to get.
But instead...
I went to the 7/11 on Santa Monica and bought a MegaMillions lotto ticket.
My name is Daniel Baxter, and this is the day I thought I won the lottery.
​
April 8, 2022 – 2:03AM
It’s 2 o’clock in the morning and I’m at the Hollywood Casino. I’ve got every penny to my name spread across the craps table and some dickhead on his bachelor party holds the dice of fate in his clammy little hands.
My last 3 meals have been from discarded room service trays at LAX Hilton, my truck doesn’t start without a prayer and the tires have been leaking air for the last month which is fine because now I know the location of every free air filling station in LA County.
If I’d paid my phone bill, it’d be buzzing a crater in my leg from my ex, Lenora, asking if I’d picked up our son’s birthday gift with the $200 she gave me.
“Gave me” isn’t quite the right term. She handed it to me with a scowl then told me “if you gamble this shit you’ll never fucking see him again.” Things had been tense lately.
But none of that matters because this guy’s been hot and it’s with his help that I’ve turned that 200 hundred into almost 3 grand. The only question is; are the rhythms with me or not?
Maybe you call it God. Maybe you call it Karma or the natural vibe of the earth or mercury or whatever. When the rhythms are on, everything goes your way. You crush your yearly review at work and get the raise you’re after or you’re at some party and you’ve got everyone eating outta the palm of your hand.
Most things are math. Craps is math. Poker is math. Phone bills are math. Divorce rates are math and if I keep having to eat off of room service trays, the likelihood of me waking up with diarrhea is math.
It’s all just probability. But when the rhythms are on, the probability doesn’t matter. You could take a 1 and a million shot back-to-back and hit it twice. That’s what the rhythm can do for you.
Summer of 2018 I was up over 2 million. I couldn’t lose a hand of blackjack, I couldn’t crap out if I tried, I couldn’t say the wrong thing to Lenora and every time I walked into the room my son, James, would light up like a fucking lantern.
It used to be me and Lenora at the tables. The place was always open, the food is fine and the drinks are free. If we weren’t at the tables we were in the lounge talking Black Jack strategy or in the bar talking game theory or hanging out at the slots like a couple’a mice pressing a button and waiting for the cheese to pop out.
Sometimes it’s nice to be a mouse. I’ve got rats in my house. They don’t pay rent or go food shopping. All they have to do is avoid eating a piece of death cheese or poison and honestly that’s not too far off from how I live anyways.
When we had James, things changed though. As Lenora put it “risking your son’s dinner isn’t chasing something it’s chasing nothing.” And I guess the 45-minute commute to the Hollywood wasn’t a valuable use of her time. Lots of people commute to work even longer. When I was working at Goldman, I commuted an hour and a half each way from Connecticut. Granted I was on a train but the point is we all commute to work.
It was nice having her here. It was nice seeing James with a smile. It was nice to check my bank account and feel a life raft around me, rather than a black hole forming in my bellybutton.
But the rhythms shifted.
Now it’s just me here next to Lenny with the beard, Jackie with the cigar and Jonie who’s been serving drinks here so long her face should be on the highway billboards. After Lenora broke it off with me she got together with Kelton who works for a hedge fund which (for the record) is still gambling. He’s just doing it with other people’s money.
James’ 9th birthday is three days away. He wants an iPad and soon as I cash out, I’ll be able to pick one up, maybe kick some back to Lenora and spread some cash around to the litany of people I’m on the hook to.
I’m one big night away from wiping it all out. I just need one hit. One night of pure rhythm... and I’ll be back.
The shooter shakes the dice in his hand then tosses ‘em. I watch them clack on the table walls below me, but before they even settle on the pass line, I can already feel the star implode in my stomach.
In a flash, my hard work is raked away by some new guy named Carl with a moustache and not a single ounce of sympathy.
The party’s at Lenora (and Kelton’s) which was fine because honestly, I didn’t just have rats.
The rats came in chasing the cockroaches but when a bunch of them got into my Cadbury Mini Egg stash and died under the living room floor, a pack of fleas picked the carcass clean before making their way into the carpet above. So, yeah...at the moment I have fleas, cockroaches and rats. I had a bug bomb guy coming in a couple days but things were gonna be a little itchy until then.
It's three days until the party. I’ve got no gift and if I show up without that 200 bucks I may never see my kid again.
​
April 8, 2022 – 6:32AM
There’s only so much you can do on a security guard’s salary and being paid $12 an hour to guard millions of dollars in Mercedes automobiles is hilarious. What am I supposed to do if some guy comes in to steal a car? Lay my life on the line and hope my out-of-pocket HMO covers bullet wounds?
I don’t even have dental. I got a root canal that needed to be recapped 10 minutes after it was put in.
I’ve been on Mr. Jenkins about a raise but he keeps telling me “we gotta sell more cars, Davey,” as if I’m the one selling cars. I’m a fucking security guard what the hell’s that gotta do with me? Last I checked it was my job to keep cars on the lot and getting them off was yours.
Jenkins owns every car dealer on Van Nuys. Maybe you’ve seen his ads on TV where he slides into frame wearing a suit while riding a surfboard just to say “COME ON DOWN!” He can afford to buy a surfboard for tv ad that has no mention of surfing or aquatic sports of any kind but he can’t pay me an extra $3 an hour so I can re-introduce cold foods to my diet.
I spend most of my shift eyeing the mint green on onyx black SLS convertible they keep in the lobby. It’s flashy but it’s got a nut sack under the hood so you know you could back it up if you went toe-to-toe with some clown at a red light. Sometimes I just stare at it but I never touch it. I only wanna touch it when it’s mine. Which it would be...
Maybe I could steal it and sell it to get the iPad and some other shit. I know all the codes but then again I wouldn’t need the whole car. The thing costs half a mill. Maybe I could lift a rear-view mirror. Who would notice? Then again with the way the rhythm’s set I’d probably bump into the fucking FBI on the way out.
I’ve been doing my best to get things together but the cards aren’t falling my way and there’s not much you can really do about that. I’ve been going to the Hollywood for 15 years so I know I’m due for a run.
Me and Lenny talking about this all the time at the lounge. Sometimes you’re on the downbeat and sometimes you’re on the upbeat. Lately I feel like it’s been all downs but the thing about being a father though, is that you’re not the only one on that ride.
It used to be that I could take a few down weeks or months even. Sleep in the car, call the landlord and talk them out of breaking down the door but when you got a kid everything changes. You suffer, he suffers. Lately Lenora’s been paying for that but you see she keeps a tally. She says she doesn’t but she does.
Every time she has to pay for something she looks at me like I’m the biggest piece of shit then says “It’s ok, David.” Which it really isn’t.
The fees and stuff aren’t the real problem. It’s being able to take James out and take care of him. She wants to take that away from me and honestly I don’t blame her.
Last week my card got declined trying to pay for ice cream. James had already eaten half of his and the lady made us give it back. He didn’t talk to me the whole way home then 2 days later Lenora told me James didn’t really like spending time with me anymore. A week after that she filed for sole custody and told me they were thinking about moving to Chicago. Who the fuck would want to live there? It’s cold as fuck and the people are assholes.
​
April 8, 2022 – 12:20PM
I do pickups for a porta-john company on the side. It’s just temporary. I don’t clean the shit I just spray down the units and suck out cans and shit with a wet-vac before this guy named Pete sticks a hose in the back and drains the whole thing out.
I’m always surprised by what people put on the walls of a john. Usually it’s just drawings like hearts and shit but sometimes the rhythm finds you there too. One time I spotted a phone number Sharpied on a toilet seat but it was missing 1 number. 8 digits. Kinda like 4 roulette numbers right?
I took em to the Hollywood and won 5 grand on one roll! Hasn’t worked again for me yet... but that’s the thing about it man.
But today I’m cleaning out a row of johns after some music festival which by the way is far and away the worst clean ups to get. Sure you see these kids all cleaned up online in some tweed outfit or some shit but you should see the shit that comes out of these kids. It’s like paving tar with glitter and red bull cans.
I look down in the last john I’m hosing down and I see something. Peaking out of the mounds I see: a $20 bill.
I stared at it for a second but I could hear Pete coming down the line about to suck it into oblivion. I never seen cash in the john before. Sometimes you hear a coin clank through the hose but a 20 bill just staring you right in the face?
I did what any man would do. I grabbed it and when I pulled my hand out I was half expecting it to be missing a layer of skin.
Later I’m sitting in the truck staring at this 20 bucks thinking “why would this come to me?” There had to be a reason. It wasn’t just on the floor of some john. It was in the last john after the nastiest event at a time when all I needed was one shot.
It was the rhythm.
But having to do that for just $20 didn’t add up. There had to have been a greater purpose and you know what they say about money. You don’t let it sleep. You wanna get that money out and get it working.
Craps kicked my teeth in this morning and you can’t do shit with 20 bucks on a blackjack table. I had to think bigger.
Then I’m driving home from work and I see the 7/11. Powerball was at 2.11 BILLION. The biggest in history. If you got all 6 numbers right you got the whole chicken. If you got 5 you got just shy of 8 million bucks. Boom.
I had my usual numbers but this wasn’t a usual day. I told the cashier to give me “all randoms today.” 10 slips at $2 each.
That night I sat down on my couch waiting for the Powerball to come on tv... then I blacked out.
The next thing I knew I was staring at 6 numbers lit up on my tv screen: 08, 07, 14, 29, 40, 16
And on my slip: 08, 07, 14, 29, 40, 22
I had 5 out of 6 numbers. I’d just won 8 million dollars
​
April 9, 2022 – 9:01AM
I’m standing in line at the California Lottery Offices. It’s not some huge expansive place. It’s a shitty little line up of people with various ailments trying to dispute their $5 winning ticket.
My mind is racing. Who do I pay back first? Do they give me the cash here? Is it in a duffel bag? When do I have to hold that big ass check? Do I wear a mask? I saw a guy do it in a scream mask once to maintain his anonymity. Honestly it might be nice to be seen. Not only has everyone seen me as a piece of shit forever but also I haven’t exactly kept a detailed list of everyone I owe money to.
It’d be good for people to just hit me up, I can cut a check and tell them “thanks for your patience.” Maybe I’d even give them a little off the top as a tip.
The guy a the counter basically spat in my face; “It’s gotta be reviewed. Takes 2-5 days. We’ll email you a link to collect any winnings.” It was like I just accused him of something. No congratulations or anything which at first, I was pissed about but then I realized that clearly I wasn’t the first asshole who thought they won the lottery.
Except I really did. 2-5 days was nothing. I’d been living in the shit for years I could do another few days.
Stepping outside, everything looked the same. The air wasn’t purer or the sunlight any more sunlightier and I still had to fill up my tires at the Shell on Cahuenga. There’s something about being rich without actually having any appearance of being rich.
That secret alone is like having a bomb in your pocket. People treat you regular, they smile and make conversation but deep down you think...if I pulled this out I could kill you with it.
But when people do think you have money, the more of it they give you.
I rolled in the doors of the Hollywood like I always did. Lenny called me a bullshitter, Jackie barely even put her cigarette down and Jonie didn’t even bring me a drink because I didn’t actually have any money on the table. I didn’t even have money in my pocket. I’d spent it all on the Megamillions and I hadn’t eaten since perusing the halls for leftover room service the night before.
Then news hit. My face was on every TV in the place. “Local man wins 8 million dollar jackpot.”
I checked my phone to see if it was blowing up, then remembered I still hadn’t paid the bill in months. So I was good there.
​
April 9, 2022 – 11:11AM
If you’ve ever been on a casino floor you know that it’s never silent. But I swear to God if you were on the floor when that news hit, you could’ve heard the rats eating my Mini Eggs 20 miles away. Everyone’s eyes were trained on me. For a second I even felt all the security cams shift over in my direction.
I couldn’t stand being on the floor with nothing to play with so Lenny set me up with his guy who got me a little walking around money. Japanese guy who I met in a Burger King across the street. Weird dude. Not sure what his name was.
I didn’t wanna go too nuts so I just took out a small loan. 50k at 20 points. I thought about it for a second then realized I didn’t really give a shit about the interest. 10 grand to me in a week doesn’t mean nearly as much as 50 does now. It’s just value proposition. It would have been stupid NOT to take out the loan honestly.
Walking into the casino with 50 grand in my pocket and slamming it down on the table feels a lot like taking out your dick at an orgy only when your dick comes out it’s a 60 foot cigarette boat with flames painted on the side.
But then I learned what I remembered years ago. Losing money and gaining money at that point meant almost nothing.
So losing 2 grand a hand wasn’t such a big deal because I could be making 5 on the next. That’s why I needed a little more when I lost the full 50.
Another 100k or so at another 20 points should do the trick.
It didn’t take long to realize that both winning and losing money meant almost nothing to me. So I ventured out.
A tailored suit for me (ready in 2-3 days on a rush).
An iPad for James with all the bells and whistles.
6 dozen roses sent to Lenora’s house signed “your secret admirer.” just to fuck with Kelton.
A watch for me, Lenny and Jodie.
Some special cigar Jackie had always been eyeing.
New pairs of Nikes for all of us.
And a limousine to my dentist’s office.
I paid in cash for the cap replacement, they gave me some pills and told me not to mix them with alcohol but honestly I was a little distracted by the old molar cap sitting on the table. I had an idea.
“Are you gonna just throw that away?” I asked her.
By now I realized I didn’t have a phone to receive my winnings via email. So, I stopped a guy in the lobby and paid him 2 grand cash for his before popping a few pills and slugging some champagne in the limo.
There was barely enough time to sit back and relax. I had a lifetime of debt and yearning for shit to burn through.
We made it to the Mercedes dealership but the pain killers kicked in and I could barely feel my hands as they ran across the SLS’s mint green paint. Bummer.
Jenkins sauntered over asking if I was working today and all I remember saying was “I want it.” He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, so I put the remaining cash I had down on the table and said it again. “I WANT IT.”
They ran my credit (which was dog shit. Didn’t matter) and I looked Jenkins in his fat little face again and said “I don’t give a fuck.” He sold it to me, financed at 25 percent interest. Then when he went to fetch my paperwork and keys I took a shit on his desk, shoved the molar cap and a $20 bill in it before using his jacket to wipe my ass. Felt right. Don’t really know why.
I had walked into the CA lottery offices at 9am to start the review process on my ticket’s authenticity.
By 11am, I was watching news break from the Hollywood Casino.
By 10pm I had accrued more debt than a small country.
I hadn’t received a dime from the lotto.
And I needed more walking around money.
​
April 10, 11, 12 – who the fuck knows what time
The next few days were a blur but there are a few things I’ll never forget.
Quitting my job.
Hiring the limo for the week.
Trying to shit after 3 days of having nothing but fast food, champagne and pain killers.
Fielding questions at the party from Kelton’s asshole friends who told me “lotto rich isn’t real rich.”
And the heat of my house burning to the ground as James and I stood there watching with a can of gas in our hands.
He didn’t even want the iPad.
The rhythms were sliding back. James had that smile plastered back in his face and even Lenora was happy to see me.
​
April 16, 7:35AM
“Dear Mr. Baxter. Congratulations! You’ve successfully matched FOUR of six winning numbers. Below please find a link to collect your winnings of $10,000.”
I read it over and over again. Over and over and over.
When I called the offices an nice woman on the phone informed me that due to a printing malfunction the ticket had appeared to show the number 8 when in fact it was a 6.
They even managed to maintain a sense of excitement. I mean why wouldn’t they? They think I just won $10,000. They had no idea I’d bought a car I couldn’t afford, burned my house down, taken a shit on my boss’ desk, maxed out 3 new credit cards and borrowed a inordinate amount of money from people at a borderline illegal interest rate.
The limo company took my ride away and with no home I’ve spent the last 2 days parked on the Pacific Coast Highway, sleeping in the brand new Mercedes I can’t afford, in a suit I shouldn’t have bought, showering in the YMCA down the street, and eating 2-day-old coconut shrimp.
All of a sudden I’m fucked again. But as I stare out at the Pacific, my phone dings. It’s an alert from the Chase banking app. My lotto winnings of $10,000 have just hit my account and the only question is...
Are the rhythms with me or not?

This author appreciates that it has been many a year, antecedent to the advent of the digital age, that this author has had to admonish the youngsters to keep their distance from this author and this author's demense. No pleasure is imported upon this author in submitting this correspondence using the Hypertext Transfer Protocol; however, this author would be grateful if the prior generations (who know from reading this author's works, housed in the "old" Library) would advise the teenyboppers of this author's cloistered and misanthropic nature. A recent unfortunate occurrence concerned a number of juveniles chasing small chickens about this author's estate. This author also surmises to have observed an exorcism on this author's lands. Furthermore, the townsfolk wandering this author's woodlands have become legion. It is this author's sincere entreaty that these activities cease forthwith.
Nongermane to the above, this author seeks to solicit the services of a mobile purveyor of comestibles and household goods to supplant the Spheniscedae which have conveyed to this author said necessities lo these past years. This author has tired of purifying these grounds of the vast quantities of guano strewn about by these mis-hemisphered scoundrels. This author was formerly enamored by these bantam butlers. Alas, their untidy nature and insufficiency of opposable digits has become intolerable. This author admits that the orthodoxy of penguins should be apparent to the most common of individuals; thereby this author was remiss in appropriating their services beyond the novelty.
-FitzHume

So I have a couple coops off in the Archway (Or Gully, whichever is to the west and by itself), one houses Rock Ringtails with a solar shield and one houses Boom Crystals. And I've noticed that plort production for the crystals isn't really happening. On this particular trip there were none in the collector and 16 of each on the ground. I'm free feeding them by having Briar Hens hand out in the coop with them, which wasn't an issue for my Tabby Cottons nor my Angler Flutters.
And my ringtails produce plenty of plorts, which you'd expect to have lower production given the unique feeding habits of those critters and the fact I have them on a slow auto feeder.
My best guess is that between all the crystals and chickens on the floor of the pen the plorts can't make it to the feeder when I'm not there and they despawn?

I bought skinless, cut up leg quartqers about 4 lb. I used Indian Tikka masala seasoning a little over 1 full packet and some yogurt. It's 10:00 pm right now, I was going to grill it tommorow at 8 for the whole family. Now Im realizing I got too excited and over marinated it and the marination time is too long also.
I've fuvked it up haven't I? What can be done?

First, background. I'm 19 years old as of writing this, and it's hard to give a clear timeline, but I'd say my mother has been an alcoholic with varying severity my whole life. I was neglected, especially in my teen years, and was never told much about my parents' lives or families. I'm now realizing that I don't actually know my mother much at all. My father wants to be in my life but my mom and I left him when I was 14 and I don't think I ever want to speak to him again. I've been close to no contact since we left five years ago. I do worry about how hard it's going to be when I have no family support whatsoever at a very young age, but he was abusive so I think it's better to struggle than to drink poison. I'm still living at home and about to graduate high school. My mom's boyfriend/partner also lives with us, which I am very grateful for now because he's the only adult that I feel I can usually rely on.
When the pandemic hit, I was barely 16, and I basically stayed in my room for months, then stayed at my mentally ill (ex)gf's mother's house most of the time for months, which was not great but it got me through it, then was on my own again, then went back to school. During those times, my mom's drinking got the worst it's ever been. It wasn't uncommon for me to come home to her passed out on the couch with food literally trailing from the kitchen to the living room and all over her. I fucking hate the smell of air fried chicken strips and fries. The couch napping started when I was around 9 or 10, and I saw it as a kind of game and would force her to go to bed because I figured that's what I was supposed to do. It stopped being fun as I got older. Point being, she's been drinking a lot for a long time. Around when I was 16 or 17, I started having a lot of worry that she was gonna die. That was before she started declining, and I actually voiced some of my concerns, which she sort of laughed off and reassured me that she was fine. Her boyfriend is the only one she really listens to, and he is an enabler but also is semi reasonable enough to be counted on. Without him things would be much worse. She won't get help. Ever. You know how it is.
For a year or so I would sob every night and have constant terror of my mother's death. I would stay up late deep cleaning the house in an effort to take some of the burden away. I tried in vain to foster a closer relationship with her, but it only made her visibly uncomfortable around me. I think part of it was me panicking because I was not quite an adult yet and my caretaker was declining. I have a job now, and I'm not not scared, but I feel a lot less incapacitated by dread of losing her. I still cry sometimes but I don't feel like I'm going to rot in the street when she's gone like I used to. I've taught myself a lot about cptsd which has given me insight into and power over myself. But yea, I'm still scared. Maybe I don't realize how bad it will be, but part of me feels like I don't actually need to be. I've already seen horror and learned to heal from it, so I guess I'm wondering if I need to prepare for completely losing myself in grief again, or if I'm somewhat more prepared than I realize? Emotionally speaking. So I thought I'd share my story and ask a group of people who may have experienced something similar. Am I okay? Her health is getting worse fast, she refuses to acknowledge it, her eyes seem unfocused and she's forgetting things more and more often. I think it's dementia, but that's not a new fear. I'm mostly worried about housing when she can't work anymore. It's gonna be hard. Idk.

I recall during the pandemic there was a waffle house near where I used to live that was selling their chicken breast they use for their sandwiches and biscuits in bulk. Like you could purchase the entire bag for $35 if I remember correctly. Is this still a thing, or is it a thing outside of situations like the pandemic?

i ordered some chicken strips from bojangles, right? my order and someone else’s was picked up and was on the way. she dropped off the order at the other house, then said my order was done. after thinking it was just a misclick, i waited patiently to see if she’d roll up, she never did lol. after 5 mins i texted, and she said it was a glitch..??? even if so… why could you not drop my stuff off? i’ve never heard of this happening and i’m just trying to understand, but it just seems like i got my stuff stolen lmfao. am i justified? has this ever happened to anyone else? i’ve never had this experience before and it’s pretty annoying
update: 30 mins later and i still haven’t gotten my things. i got a refund.
chat with her part 2

I'd like to move my sim's family, but they do have several chickens, and I'm wondering what I have to do to keep them with me when I move. Their future house has a coop there, but do I have to put their current coop in storage and take it with me?