josh's stuff

I love the little involuntary chuckle you get when you finish an episode of Sherlock.

The fingerless leather gloves I wear when riding are tremendously comfortable, but the tan lines I’m getting from them are beginning to get hilarious.

The fingerless leather gloves I wear when riding are tremendously comfortable, but the tan lines I’m getting from them are beginning to get hilarious.

My photobomb game was pretty strong last night.

My photobomb game was pretty strong last night.

REBLOG if you’re in the Rick and Morty Fandom

championchalupa:

Just curious image

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I’m not particularly happy with the levels, but not too bad for a couple hours of work.

I had to leave work today because I am on Day 3 of the worst anxiety attack I’ve ever had. I didn’t even start working. It was minutes before I was supposed to clock in. I was already there. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. I started to cry.
The supervisor had told me to take a mental health day. I had previously told him no, that I had bills and responsibilities, and I wouldn’t be weak and allow this crippling feeling to win. I pushed hard, really hard. I remembered all the times that I had JUST DEALT WITH IT, and pushed it down, being stronger than me, waiting until I got home and locked the door to feel safe. (I hate locking doors for this reason; if you have to lock the door, it’s because it isn’t safe outside.) But today I couldn’t.
I left on my motorcycle as fast as I could, and if you ride fast enough, with the visor up, it’s impossible to cry. The wind won’t let you.
But I’ve cried a lot today. Harder than I can remember crying. Everything was already hurting, because of the tension and my pounding heart for 3 straight days. Now it’s worse because of the crying. My lungs hurt from the heavy sobs and the panicked breathing, my eyes hurt for obvious reasons.
There’s not a moral to this story, or any sort of uplifting message of hope at the end.
Because anxiety never ends until it ends. And until it ends, there is no future, no help coming, and no end.

So I’m just shy of begging for a job from OfficeMax again.
Sighhhh

Payment for illicit materials.

Payment for illicit materials.

Fake calligraphy.

Fake calligraphy.

Just got my custom wax seal in the mail.
Everything feels so… Classy…