Kids these days are giving me hope that the millennial cynicism had lost. I know the bullies we zoomers too, but overall I see a lot of positive change coming from this generation and I hope we have their back.
That is a chicken.
That is my brain on drugs.
My brain on drugs is a chicken.
Weed makes me paranoid.
Q.E.D.
These folks seem to have a different understanding than you.
Specifically:
Since as many as 10 percent of the lowest-wage workers leave or start jobs every month, any decrease in the number of full-time equivalent jobs will mean that some workers will take more time finding a new job, or will work fewer hours. But many of these workers may still see their annual earnings rise because of their wage increase.
Summer Glau: Am I a joke to you?
Ah, the majestic gas giant…
(It’s not, it’s an ice giant, but juvenile humor ftw)
I’ll second CBT, it helped me a lot. My therapist started with identifying my “core beliefs” like “worrying* helps me avoid bad things” and “worrying makes me better at my job” and then through some structured routines helped me change or event disregard them. I’m very analytical and she really helped show the illogical nature of all the time I spent worrying.
That said I first needed a low dose zoloft prescription to even be willing to book the therapy, but I’ve since weened off it.
*specifically hypothetical worries, i.e. “what if”
Maybe the Orca’s should have pulled themselves up by their finstraps. (/s)
Everything’s all right then?
Honestly, that sounds amazing, and illustrates why, “can you explain this gap on your resume” is such a bull shit interview question.
Why does there even need to be a COP every year?
COP is just theatre.
Asked and answered.
Ok, I tilted my phone and shoved it up my butt… now what? I never get these memes, I must be getting old.
Edit: hold on someone’s calling me…
My wife has a notably tiny nose, like can’t wear sunglasses without the pads that stick out or they fall off, and she can still see some of the bottom of her nose. So someone seeing nothing at all would have an incredibly small nose.
Carl: Alright, well…I was upstairs…
Paul: Okay…
Carl: I was uh…I was sitting in my room…
Paul: Yes?
Carl: reading a book…
Paul: Go on…
Carl: And, uh, well this guy walked in…
Paul: Okay…
Carl: So, I went up to him…
Paul: Yes…
Carl: And I…I stabbed him 37 times in the chest.
Paul: Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarl, that KILLS people!
Carl: Oh! Well, I didn’t know that!!
Not sad, just sick of this shit.
Same Zero, same.
Ok, I had to know, so:
I still have questions, but at least I’ll be able to sleep tonight.
And waste that prescious stock meat, no thank you!
Look at Mr/Ms Moneybags here, able to afford toast AND beans. With the current inflation, most of us are just eating sadness for breakfast.
Too bad… sashay, sashay, turn, turn, drop!
Keep up honey!
It’s almost like someone is trying to tell you to STFU.