I feel like statistics are in my corner with it probably being disease or old age, but if I were to find out that I will choke to death on pizza, my loved ones will just have to know to say their goodbyes every time I eat it.
Apparently I am the only one who wants to know how I die. Aside from a car accident, knowing how would give me a ballpark estimate of when, without the terrible anxiety of seeing a countdown to the exact moment of my death.
Not sure what is up with the organization of the comment section, but in response to ImTooOldForThis…The reason I specifically did it is a long story that nobody here would care about. The end goal for most people is to teach at a college. It is totally bogus considering that 1-2 jobs open up each year IN THE COUNTRY, and dozens are graduating with the degree each year. Also, you can’t even really be considered for a job anymore unless you also have a doctorate as well.
Dudette actually but no worries. I did get paid to do it and was working toward being an actuary at the same time so it isn’t quite as bad as it sounds, but no, I was actually talked into it.
I have a masters degree in saxophone performance (for those wondering, yes I am an idiot), and it blows my mind that they have the nerve to beg me for money after they allowed me to get a completely useless degree.
This happened to me constantly. I would also get interrupted and the person would change the subject, or sometimes they would tell me that I was wrong before changing the subject. I really closed in on myself and couldn’t function outside of routine for a long time. Now that I’ve been getting help, everyone who shut me down has said, “oh, I didn’t know it was that bad.” In hindsight, I would have been better off not trying to open up to anyone. The saddest part is that I don’t think my experience is a rare one. The self-absorption in our culture has caused a lot of problems that wouldn’t otherwise be there.
This is my exact situation except my attempts at opening up are shut down by the other people. Now I just pay one person to listen to me and another to give me pills.
Body type is the only factor I need to make this decision. As a mesomorph, I think I’d look pretty good at 4’5″, but a 7’7″ female who is anything other than super skinny would just be terrifying.
I think I would feel weird changing my name but I would also want to have the same last name as my husband, so I am just going to marry someone with the same last name as me.
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I feel like statistics are in my corner with it probably being disease or old age, but if I were to find out that I will choke to death on pizza, my loved ones will just have to know to say their goodbyes every time I eat it.
Apparently I am the only one who wants to know how I die. Aside from a car accident, knowing how would give me a ballpark estimate of when, without the terrible anxiety of seeing a countdown to the exact moment of my death.
Crunchy peanut butter and pickles actually
Oh and then once every five years a military band spot opens up, so that nice…
Not sure what is up with the organization of the comment section, but in response to ImTooOldForThis…The reason I specifically did it is a long story that nobody here would care about. The end goal for most people is to teach at a college. It is totally bogus considering that 1-2 jobs open up each year IN THE COUNTRY, and dozens are graduating with the degree each year. Also, you can’t even really be considered for a job anymore unless you also have a doctorate as well.
Dudette actually but no worries. I did get paid to do it and was working toward being an actuary at the same time so it isn’t quite as bad as it sounds, but no, I was actually talked into it.
I have a masters degree in saxophone performance (for those wondering, yes I am an idiot), and it blows my mind that they have the nerve to beg me for money after they allowed me to get a completely useless degree.
I quit reading it around that time as well. I can only hate a fictional character so much before I get tired of it.
I also didn’t know that “bud” was a Canadian thing. I am getting so cultured today.
Ah yes, the “old” age of 22. Only two years before my first of three quarter-life crises. I really had life figured out.
Usually trolls are irritating, but honestly I just feel sorry for you. This is the dumbest shit I’ve seen.
I thought this was Minnesota-specific.
herky91?
I feel like marathons (halves, 10Ks, etc.) are like paying for your own ticket to hell where all you get is a t-shirt and bloody nipples.
Good luck, though.
This happened to me constantly. I would also get interrupted and the person would change the subject, or sometimes they would tell me that I was wrong before changing the subject. I really closed in on myself and couldn’t function outside of routine for a long time. Now that I’ve been getting help, everyone who shut me down has said, “oh, I didn’t know it was that bad.” In hindsight, I would have been better off not trying to open up to anyone. The saddest part is that I don’t think my experience is a rare one. The self-absorption in our culture has caused a lot of problems that wouldn’t otherwise be there.
This is my exact situation except my attempts at opening up are shut down by the other people. Now I just pay one person to listen to me and another to give me pills.
Yesterday I fucked up my back while reaching for something that fell under the seat in my car. Age me from the neck up, please.
Jesse Palmer’s season was the only one where his final pick showed up first, and then she watched while he dumped the second place one.
I hate myself.
Body type is the only factor I need to make this decision. As a mesomorph, I think I’d look pretty good at 4’5″, but a 7’7″ female who is anything other than super skinny would just be terrifying.
I think I would feel weird changing my name but I would also want to have the same last name as my husband, so I am just going to marry someone with the same last name as me.
Anyway, sup to any Johnsons out there.