I Want To Get Back Into Writing Again.

I want to get back into writing again.

My laptop got lost when when we moved about 4 years ago. We simply just, never found it.

I'm facing the concept of just getting a new one but I'm really overwhelmed by all the choices and conflicting reviews of the current market.

Does anyone here have any advice or suggestions on what laptop is best for primarily writing?

The only criteria really is I do well with the solid, larger laptops vs those small/travel/take apart ones. I have to be able to use my trackball mouse as well.

I've missed writing for years. So many books unfinished. I just... I cannot let them collect any more dust. Not to mention bursting with new material waiting to be written. I miss the creative outlet I once did every day if not every week. It's time. I just need to find the right equipment.

Aaaand that friend isn't answering their phone. Awesome. So now we have two options.

Drag both of our neurospicy toddlers into the ER with us ...

Please no

... or just not go at all for now...

🫠 I feel like death..

Husband and I have been afflicted by... something??? Awful.

Both of us are in horrendous stomach/abdominal pain. We're probably going to emergency here soon.

I'd rather be having contractions during labor vs what is hitting me now.

We both took the last two hydros from my old postpartum meds. For him it did nothing and for me it only took the edge off barely for maybe an hour before coming right back and knocking me out it got so bad.

Husband is someone who sorta goes by something similar to the farmer pain scale. If he's hurting, it's severe. Last time he was actually incapacitated, it was his first ever severe case of shingles.

He went to the hospital, and was on pain medication for a month or more. Which, if you knew him, you'd go "oh shit", cuz this man simply, powers through everything else below the severe category.

My only concern whenever needing the er for pain relief is their hoops to jump through. I'm autistic-adhd and do not display my pain like they expect.

My 6-10 and upwards on the pain scale is me internalizing it, shutting down, going non-verbal. I appear calm and collected which always makes them doubt the sincerity/severity of the pain level.

Hopefully with my husband and I both going in, he's verbal, we can get some relief. (Vent - Which is really irritating with doctors because last time I went nonverbal, I was still able to write it all down and the doctor refused to even look at the paper. So we fucking sat in silence until I choked out like 3 words and she based her entire limited understanding of my issues based on that. Not. You know. The extremely detailed notecard I brought in as a communication aid.)

I really wish doctors would see someone who's nonverbal from pain, unable to even hold focus/gaze, and general inability to interact as someone who hmmm might need help vs "I'm frustrated and flabbergasted that I can't easily checkmark boxes and send you on your way easy peasy" reaction a lot of doctors give in the city closest to us.

The moment they can't cure you from their pamplet checklist and get that pat on their back for doing a doctoring, they're fed up with you and instead make it your fault for being 'difficult'. (Sorry, vent because I just hate needing to go to the doctor for pain like this.)

The pain is creeping up into my chest now so I'm going to rest. We're waiting on a friend to come over to stay with our littles so we can go.

Wish us luck. 🤞🏻

You never grow out of wanting to earn a sticker

When I was a TA for the freshman art class in senior year my students really adored me. It was so sweet. I’d had classes that were more ambivalent toward me but these guys were all about me.

I loved working with that teacher too. He was the kind of crunchy art nerd whose own kid didn’t know what candy was, who loved bird watching and wearing tweed. We’d chat while they worked and it was just a three hour pleasure rather than work.

When the class switched from charcoal to gouache a devil medium, the evilest watercolor, the students struggled. We’d have in class painting where they’d spend the whole time trying to mix one color instead of just accepting something as good enough and trying to practice other skills.

So one day I showed up to my shift and announced, “I have stickers. If you get color down for the whole composition, you get a sticker.”

They wanted. The stickers. So bad. Students who had agonized before about keeping lines neat and perfect plowed ahead. The first student to call me over I tsked at. “Putting grey on everything doesn’t count,” I chided, “I asked for colors on each object.”

The classroom worked in furious joy, young adults who had seen my bird and cactus stickers and gone feral. The teacher was flabbergasted. “Why do they want stickers? They could just buy stickers…”

I held up my water bottle and showed him a tiny 3D bubble sticker the program director had brought to my game teams space last week. “You never grow out of wanting to earn a sticker.”

By the end of class everyone had a sticker. There was more visible improvement in the work too, which surprised them since they’d been rushing. “Gouache looks terrible before it looks good. It’s okay to start messy and then refine.” The teacher had said the same thing but looking at their frantic sticker paintings they finally saw the truth of it.

Today on Why My Toddler Is Mad At Me :

I will not let him dip his toy ladle into my cup of juice so he can have a sip.

I'm sorry sir but I do not have spoons for the aftermath of that, as much as I adore the whimsy of the concept.

Mamma is sick and barely functioning just existing.

Another day, mayhaps.

🥄🧃🥄🧃🥄🧃🥄🧃🥄🧃🥄🧃🥄

I remember

Please tell me you guys remember this

I wish lesbians were as easy to find in real life as they are on tumblr