If you currently work and might not be able to help them yourselves my freelance work has gone completely cold (the TV/film industry isn't very conducive to stay at home work ;) ).
So please let me know if there's any shopping or what not I can do.
Stay safe y'all.
Some background, we live in the US, I was ten on 9/11, so I only have vague memories. Noting this because it’s not out of the realm of possibility that I’d ask him about it.
However.
My wife and I are huge fans of the TV show 9-1-1, which is about first responders. The title of the show is formatted with dashes between the numbers, quite specifically. I’m a writer, especially of fanfic, and today I wrote a silly story about two of the characters based of the season three finale. I like sharing my writing with my family, like my dad, but I was pretty sure he didn’t watch the show, and it didn’t make much sense without the background, so I wanted to check with him if he watched it. I sent an innocent text asking if he did, and he replied with what I felt was a confusing answer, saying it was a long story and he was busy but he’d talk to me later. I told him it was just a yes or no answer but sure.
Several minutes pass, and I get a super long text from him. At this point I was getting more and more confused, because it’s just a show, either he’s seen it or he hasn’t. His text starts with him saying he was on the phone with his best friend, and as I read more I finally understand:
My dad thought I was asking if he’d watched 9/11.
He told me the whole story of how yes, he did watch it, the world ended, and it was terrifying. In text. While he was out doing stuff. Because he thought I needed to know right now and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I apologized so many times but I still feel horrible. He doesn’t watch the show and thus didn’t know about the specific formatting of the title and thus it didn’t occur to him that I’d mean anything other than 9/11 because that’s what those numbers mean. I feel so guilty, both for making him do that, and for making him think I was disrespecting his wishes of not wanting to talk about something so difficult while he was busy. He says he’s not mad but that couldn’t have been a fun experience for him, and I feel terrible.
Tldr; accidentally guilt tripped my dad into telling me the story of how he watched 9/11 unfold live on TV while trying to ask if he watched a completely unrelated TV show.
Surely there would have been more qualified candidates with more combat history.
So I had gone to bed around 10:00pm last night, and woke up sometime after to my girlfriend putting our 1 year old daughter to bed, and then I fell right back to sleep. I woke up in the morning to my girlfriend beside me and a text from her from around 11:30 PM saying that she went out to go get some free baby formula from someone (we are expecting another baby and shes been wanting to stock up just in case she cant breastfeed).
Am I wrong to overthink this, should I be worried? I just don't understand why it was so urgent to get so late at night.
Or is it its own special task that isn't affected by priority settings?
I absolutely dread it. Its a list that never ends and constantly has new additions to the list. It leaves me exhausted everyday.
I am grateful to have a job that I can afford to live and save as well but I just want eternal rest.
If I could reincarnate as a tree that would be great
What advice can you give me. How can I turn my mindset around to enjoy work? It is there regardless if I want it or not. But I still have a great dislike for it.
Not that Kirk hasn't disobeyed the Prime Directive before, but these orders came from Starfleet.
They believed the Organians to be a simple pre-warp civilization, so I don't see how they could justify offering them all kinds of technological advances and pulling them into the war. The Prime Directive is supposed to come before everything else, even strategic locations.
XBOX One: SUPR WhoHA
“Oh I think I’ll call it a day” God replies.
"God dammit, I'm so tired of doing these stupid chores for them. Just because I can teleport, doesn't mean I should have to do all this crap. Flash can practically get around just as fast as me, and Superman is a close second.. Can't they take care of their own chores?"
Krypto looked up at me, puzzled. "Bark, bark! Rrrrruff!"
"I know, I know. Gotta start somewhere. Hopefully some day, I'll be out there protecting the world with the rest of the League."
After our third lap around the entire Kent farm, I decided to take Krypto back inside. Upon heading back out, I hear what sounds like explosions in a video game. "Hello? Who's there?" I called out, now even more frustrated that I had to walk Krypto when someone else was already here.
"Hold on dude, I'm on a sick kill streak! I think I'm up to like 62 kills!"
I stepped in to the bedroom and I see what looks like Clark, except fat, sweaty, and covered in Cheeto dust.
At this point I'm practically fuming with anger. "YO! I don't know who you are, but you clearly live here. Yet, somehow I still find myself walking the dog."
"SHIT! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" screamed the overweight Superman. He then threw his controller so hard that it vanished from my sight instantly. All that remained was a hole in the wall and a huge sonic boom. "I DIED BECAUSE OF YOU. I TOLD YOU TO HOLD ON!"
"My bad dude. I just wanted to know why I'm the one walking your family's dog?"
Super-Large-Man finally snapped out of his video game-induced rage. "Wait, are you friends with Clark? Like.. friendsfriends?"
Clearly this guy has power, after that whole controller incident.. I guess I could tell him who I am. "Yeah, we're uh.. Justice Friends, you could say."
Big Boy Kent rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're one of them? Bah, you should probably just leave. I can't stand the Justice League. Bunch of cocky, stuck up bastards."
"Well, I'm not really one of them.. I'm more of an errand boy for them." I replied, defensively. "I can definitely see why you'd think they are all stuck up. All they ever have me do is run back and forth taking care of their personal business while they go out and fight bad guys. I'm so fed up with them."
"Are you serious? See, I knew they were all a bunch of jerks. My name is Dav-El, but you can call me Dave." Dave stood up and reached out a hand covered in Cheeto dust. "It's nice to meet you. What's your name?"
I hesitantly reached out to shake his hand, knowing full well that I'd be dying to wash them until th
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