THANK YOU DON’T MIND IF I DO

having a job is very weird bcos by and large your coworkers will be a variety of ages and you will not all be at the same stage of life. your coworker will be like, well I’m off home to spend time with my husband & child, what are you going to do with your evening? and you’re like, well, I plan on playing Rollercoaster Tycoon for as much as it as possible

And you are older than them

it will pass but like can i at least get an eta

are you okay i noticed you reblogging "a raven with a damaged wing. it can still fly with ease" again

I shocked church with my ‘math skills’ when they were asking how many seconds in a minute, minutes in an hour, hours in a day, days in a year, now how about minutes in a year - and I call out five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes without pausing to think, cos Rent

Once aced a religion class pop quiz that asked me to list all of Jacob’s sons since they’re the names of the 12 tribes of Israel. The one and only time I’ve been thankful for Andrew Lloyd Webber. I even got points for getting the birth order correct.

When i was in high school, my history teacher asked what historic technology caused the biggest alteration in military tactics. I answered stirrups, and explained that the ability to brace against the horse to use a weapon and the better maneuverability vs a chariot created the entire concept of cavalry, which led to modern tactics, etc. The teacher said I was the first student to ever give that answer and that I was basically correct, and then asked where I had found that out. I then had to explain I had read it in a Star Trek novel.

I got a history question about the Roman general Marcus Crassus because of Xena, Warrior Princess.

one time I went over to a friend's house and their housemate was making paper in the living room, and we saw this big tub full of water they were using to dissolve old scrap paper into a slurry, and everyone was immediately like "oh, you need scrap paper?" and started turning out their jacket pockets and producing expired coupons and bus tickets and crumpled receipts and old shopping lists and whatever else they'd been carrying round with them for no good reason, and passing it all to the paper-making housemate to make sure it was suitable before it got torn up and dropped into the tub, while people took turns stirring the slurry with a big wooden stick. it was strangely ritualistic, like presenting an offering to some kind of temple elder for inspection before placing it in a watery shrine to be devoured and reformed. pulp for the pulp god.

Oh hey! Haven’t seen this in forever! Didn’t reblog it when it came across me before, not gonna skip it this time, I need some good vibes.