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I wish insomnia at least gave you more usable hours in the day instead of just more hours where you are stupid

whats everyones favorite cocktails. i totally adore a sex on the beach. no rum and coke okay i want your favorite gay ass colorful fruity tasting type of drink okay? okay. i trust you. i love you

#butch answer but my go to is an old fashioned #other than that strawberry daiquiri

gifmovie

if david lynch directed iron man

dogpuppy

#gary barlow's second son

nomeki

#happy pride

kiisaes

everyone eat more vegetables NOW!!! and mention the last vegetable you ate in the tags so we're all on the buddy system. I'll start: bok choy

#i think its a food vegetable not actually one but cucumber #barring that carrot sticks

gummi-ships

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inkskinned

Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.

At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.

At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.

“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.

The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.

I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.

I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.

I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht.

I’m not worth the cost of a watch.

inkskinned

i wrote this while i was working at orlando’s walt disney world parks.

i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.

as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.

disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (“cast members”) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even “face” characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.

at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.

i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.

i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.

we are both worth more than the watch, anyway.

#i think abt this while im cashing up #this three grand weve made on a dead thursday in cash sales alone would change my life

ffxvcaps

→ Me? Gongaga.

#me gongaga monday....#my old friend

saltoncity

here’s how natasha pierre & the great comet of 1812 can still sweep

aomitois

rb and tag your favorite song that's not in english, japanese or korean

#a lil basic but città vuota by mina

inbabylontheywept

you're not allowed to bring wireless devices into classified areas and a security guy noticed a square phone-ish shape in my pocket so he asked me to show him what it was and i had to show him my can of pocket herring :/

inbabylontheywept

artists depiction of event

inbabylontheywept

i am banned from eating my herring inside. they make me eat it on the smoking area by the loading dock, under the theory that it already smells bad there. but it was raining today which was preventing my breakfast, so i was feeling sad and hungry and then i realized that there was a large cardboard box in the dumpster from a previous delivery. like a fridge sized box. so i fished it out of the dumpster, then tipped it on its side and had a nice little cardboard cave to watch the rain and eat my fish in. which was a great experience. very soothing. very zen. at least until the security guard from the day before stepped outside to smoke. then i tried hiding from him by crawling deeper in the box, which unfortunately did not work. instead he saw a sort of damp sniveling pale hairless creature eating fish in a box, and delivered the verbal killshot of "good morning, mr. smeagol." which is how my day was ruined before 8 am.