just another day ending in y

let there be anarchy and who gives the shit about the various categories and my own vague promises.
(all images yanked from google, duh)


this is soooo gpoy it hurts (also, do we still say gpoy? idk what’s going on anymore internet, give me your dank memes, your rare pepes, your stolen reaction videos yearning to go viral)


work has been so shitty lately that I am completely resigned to the next 10 months being an utter pain the butt, devoid of any real joy in the workplace. my eyes will eventually fall out of my socket since I’ve been rolling them so hard and I’d probably have bitten my tongue off by then to stop myself from making snide remarks.

in fact today’s actually my first day back at work after the lunar new year break because I got strep throat and had a 2 day mc, in which I mostly slept a lot on the couch while marathoning netflix in my dreams.

maybe it’s the post-illness that’s making me so cranky, but not really, since I’ve been irritated with work since nearly after the first month or so.


I’m definitely not well suited to the industry, just based on my temperament and given my lack of interest in details and being meticulous in general, things are doubly annoying. I just want to be left alone in peace to do whatever shit you’ve assigned me – is that so hard to ask? am I really needed in those meetings, can’t someone else be the minutes taker instead, someone who actually has background to the issue at hand…


do you know what sort of thoughts run through my mind? things like hey, if a serial killer were to murder me or if paranormal activity were to occur, or if I got bitten by a poisonous spider, or I’m killed when jaywalking, at least I won’t have to turn up to work anymore. or hey, it’s only 10 more months to go, just as long as an unwanted pregnancy and abortion is now illegal thanks to republican bullshit.


the only response to people who go like, ‘so why don’t you just quit, right?’ also, I realised that I’ve been retail therapy-ing so hard recently because of work shit. also, the only good thing about this job is that it makes me fonder of my weekend jobs. not even joking – cajoling little kids to play bad piano is more fun than all this crap.

I have always believed, somewhere in the back of my head, that it would be nice to live in prison. Of
course I know that prison is not nice at all, but the thought persists nonetheless.

In the book, “The Loner’s Manifesto,” author Anneli Rufus (INT) notes, “When parents on TV shows
punished their kids by ordering them to go to their rooms, I was confused. I loved my room. Being
there behind a locked door was a treat. To me a punishment was being ordered to play Yahtzee with
my cousin Louis. I puzzled over why solitary confinement was considered the worst punishment in
jails.”

Think of it–no responsibilities, free room and board. You can do anything you please with your
abundant spare time: read, write, create art, design things, study. No one to bother you or interrupt
your work.

I suspect that prison does not present as much suffering for INTPs as it does for other types. Of course,
it depends on the conditions in the particular prison. (source: Anna Moss; The Secret Lives of INTPs)

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