the weather in my head

she/her • thirties • local demon • This isn’t an inherently 18+ blog, but I’m an adult and will occasionally post things best suited for adults. If this worries you, you may depart now.

[theweatherinmyhead]

My cat dropped a screw gun on me and now I have a small but dramatic puncture/scrape/bruise just above my knee

[theweatherinmyhead]

Dick totally has dancer feet. His family absolutely give him shit about his freaky, beat-up dancer feet, but he and Cass have by far the strongest ankles. Plus, he can fight barefoot on all kinds of awful terrain. So take that, normal-footed Timothy.

[pmamtraveller]

Mother by Clare Turlay Newberry

[wordfather]

i'd rip up grass and put it on your knee btw. for no reason other than i was thinking of you so much that i needed to bother you a little about it

[junglejim4322]

I live a very balanced life of noticing things nobody else does and not noticing the things that literally everybody notices

[corvidcall]

to anyone in the areas impacted by the wildfire smoke, my #1 biggest piece of advice as someone whos been dealing with wildfire smoke in the NW united states for years, is build yourself a Corsi-Rosenthal Cube

they perform as well as expensive HEPA air cleaners, and are comparatively VERY inexpensive. all you need is a box fan, 4 air filters, a piece of cardboard, and some duct tape!!!!

i think it took us maybe a half hour to put ours together, if that, and we replace the filters every 3 months. it's really made a HUGE difference, both when the air quality is bad, but also with our allergies

[o0fyuu0o]

Saw these easy to read instructions on Twitter. Stay safe 💚

[sarahthecoat]

where i am, a box fan and the filters run about $20 each, so if $100 is too much of a stretch at the moment, get the fan and one filter. tape the filter to the intake side of the fan, all the way around. this is also good if your space is small and a 20" cube won't fit.

[theweatherinmyhead]

I was today years old when I realized that the “trouble swallowing” sensation I get when I’m particularly anxious is just fucking acid reflux.

[ltwilliammowett]

What Is the Name of That Sail?

Photo credit Jeff Crosby.

[justslightlyconfused]

That ‘comment on your a03 work’ email hits like a line of cocaine every time. unmatched dopamine increase. shoutout to everyone who leaves a comment on fics. you deserve the world

[only-tiktoks]

[kawree]

Y'all for real please do these. Even if you're certain your posture doesn't suck. One day you will wake up with impinged shoulder pain like I did and let me tell you it fucking HURTS. Do these exercises even just once a week and it will make such a difference. Especially my fellow creatives out there, stop shrimping over your work and go do these right now. RIGHT NOW.

[symptomesper]

Also, if you’re even a little concerned about getting a hump or having trouble standing fully upright in your old age, this is how you prevent that. If you want to be up and about when you’re old you have to start when you’re younger. And keep in mind there is no bad time to start and it’s never too late. Starting today is way better than never starting at all.

[theweatherinmyhead]

Also also, if you work a front-facing job and want people to take you seriously, the ability to roll your shoulders open, and stack your head over shoulders over hips is a game changer. An upright and open posture makes you come across as confident, in control, and comfortable — a combo that communicates that you’re worth listening to. It doesn’t even matter if you are/feel those things. Standing like you’re in control does at least half the work of making people believe you’re in control.

There are other ways to achieve this ofc, but when I started pausing to clean up my posture before entering tense customer situations, I started having better outcomes.

[artemisaa87]

relatable king

batman #469 (1991)

[gaygaygay-no-kitaro-deactivated]

Hairspray and the Shape of Water both take place in circa 1962 Baltimore and I absolutely think of the events of the two happening simultaneously

[guilty-as-battery-charged-deact]

♪ Good morning Baltimore! There’s the fish man who lives next door. There’s the lady who rides the bus. I think they’re boning but I won’t judge. Good morning Baaaaaaaaltimore…. ♪

[theweatherinmyhead]

Tim: It’s one banana, Alfred. How much could it cost? Ten dollars?

Dick: It’s one banana, Alfred. Ten dollars! How could I afford it?

Bruce: It’s one MRI machine, Alfred. How much could it cost? Ten dollars?

Jason: They’ve never actually set foot in a supermarket, have they, Alfred?

Alfred: Approximately seventy-five cents per pound and twelve dollars per pound, respectively.

[theweatherinmyhead]

I somehow never realized that my saved for later fics count as my history and that every time I delete my history I lose them all

[inthetags]

Reblog and put in the tags what you think of as “your” emoji(s)

[crimeronan]

sometimes i have strong opinions but they're also so inane that halfway through writing a post i'll be like "yeah, this is Absolutely not worth the energy it's taking" and delete everything. but then the opinion is still in my head. and i still want to share it. so within five minutes i go "you know, i bet i can phrase it more succinctly this time" and anyway. you all see where this is going. sometimes i do this four times in a row before i give up on the specific inane opinion and instead write a vague post about the concept of opinions as if that'll satisfy the urge to post the entirety of my inner monologue online. may or may not be relevant to what you're reading right now. and now all our lives have been enriched. you're welcome

[delinquentbookworm]

one time I went over to a friend's house and their housemate was making paper in the living room, and we saw this big tub full of water they were using to dissolve old scrap paper into a slurry, and everyone was immediately like "oh, you need scrap paper?" and started turning out their jacket pockets and producing expired coupons and bus tickets and crumpled receipts and old shopping lists and whatever else they'd been carrying round with them for no good reason, and passing it all to the paper-making housemate to make sure it was suitable before it got torn up and dropped into the tub, while people took turns stirring the slurry with a big wooden stick. it was strangely ritualistic, like presenting an offering to some kind of temple elder for inspection before placing it in a watery shrine to be devoured and reformed. pulp for the pulp god.