hole in the ground

No children were at work but the other day there was a stray cat who wandered into the parking lot and every day there are at least 20 birds... or the same bird 20 times

After working 60 hours this week, I will definitely devour the free onion rings and potato wedges, and dip them in the extra sauces I did not ask for, and absolutely enjoy the extra chicken wings you definitely accidentally tossed in there.

They've been at it for about a week, this is some serious construction work! They've been carrying twigs and sticks of all shapes and sizes, including some hefty-lookin' branches. By the looks of things, they'll be at it for at least another week, it's already about as big as a salad bowl, but it doesn't "feel" done yet.

But watching them build it has been the real treat. They're unbelievably social and collaborative, always chittering to each other, always reviewing the work, both sharing the load of carrying and assembling, and even goofing around for a break! One of them especially likes playfully pecking the other while they're stacking sticks, and the other gets annoyed and starts crooning after a point. Kinda' hard to not anthropomorphise them when the dynamics feel so damned familiar...

And even beyond that, the careful way in which they select the twigs, the clever techniques for snapping them off nearby branches, the calculated way in which they place then adjust, this is pure engineering work. Watching them feels exactly as it did when renovating an apartment, or building a shed from the ground up. I hope they get at least as much enjoyment out of it as I did.

Can we just be so tired after work, leaning on each other in the middle of the day, drifting off to our breaths and the streamer playing super mario maker 2 in the background

Which is weird and kinda' shit, because it's pretty much emotional landmines everywhere you look after moving around a bit.

I was born in one city, then my folks moved to another town, a couple of years after that I was passed around between mum and her folks, who retired back to the countryside, then I eloped to the other end of the country with Uni, then I moved back closer to my childhood area, yet still a different city, now I've moved back in my Uni city.

And everywhere's full of streets laden with harsh memories, places which have no meaning when alone, old beaten paths, whiffs of better days. But at least I never feel out of place, anywhere, as I never relate my position in the world to the people around me, but to the place itself. People come and go, the streets'll pretty much still be there.

I have two untrodden regions left, my native region (which is boring, tbph), and, supposedly, the most chaotic one. I've been pretty much everywhere in this country at least in passing, but these are the two in which I've never spent any considerable amount of time. And, no, I'm not counting the first three months of my life, spent'em in a hospital with a urinary tract infection, there's nothing to be remembered there. But I can feel my engine's revving down and craving a break.

I have one of those fully analog percolators for two cups of espresso and I always fully packed the coffee... uuh, slot (I have no idea what that mini-funnel's called). My coffee usually tastes like how No Exit feels and I pour the entire percolator into a single mug, so that's two espressos.

Today, I ran out of ground coffee, had about half a load left. Coffee came out looking normal, tastes like slightly bitter water to me. Then it hit me, this is how everyone to whom I've ever offered coffee has always asked me to make it a second time around. Mfw they wanted unleaded all along...

I don't get paid more but I get to look more important now.

Is this what this community is for?

And all I'm doing is asking myself questions, then letting myself go nuts for about an hour, an hour and a half. Maybe push myself along with further questions.

I should charge myself money for this, but I can't afford it.

noodles are pretty good ngl

... in February...

I don't understand the planet anymore, and I don't think it understands itself, either. Like it's caught in the throes of the worst gaslighting it ever received. Like it's been reduced to a gibbering mess.

but what would you know about it? You're deeply asleep, snoring just as loud as the rain hitting the window. You're also a dog.

All those managers' nonsense is gone as the wind blows through my hair and the rain pelts my face like tiny pebbles. There's nothing better than taking off a damp work hoodie and watching some user generated content on a Tuesday afternoon with no work until Saturday.

The broadcast you were watching has now ended.

Nobody - absolutely nobody else - can make me suffer as I've made myself suffer. I am my own Hell.