what the hell, sure

random bullshit go

all shall be well

never kill yourself

you should also never ever unplug the air conditioner and stick a flashlight in the vent that blows air to see if we're in there. it's very bad, that place should not be checked

and whatever you do, if you've already made the mistake of unplugging it, don't remove it from the window for cleaning if possible. and whether it's possible to remove the unit or not, don't carefully disassemble the front panel, document where the screws go and plastic bits go, and open up the vent more to be able to get into it easily

as black mold, i'm an expert on this. you should heed my warnings: now, if you've somehow made the mistake of doing all of the above, you should not use warm water and dish soap to CLEAN the inside of the vent thoroughly. DON'T ever use a bottle brush to get into the hard to reach places. and certainly don't rinse and dry the cleaned area before carefully putting it back together

there's nothing wrong with us, black mold. we don't cause or exacerbate breathing conditions like asthma or other illnesses. it's cool, we're cool

furthermore, if you're capable of removing the window unit, DONT take a hose with the same soapy water and wash the portion of the window unit that sits outside the window and is therefore weatherproofed.

whatever you do, don't allow the air conditioner to dry before plugging it back in and turning it on again

and if you have a central air conditioner, you will definitely never ever consult a manual or sources online to perform a similar cleaning procedure on the cooling unit outside.

It is a lot of elbow grease and definitely not just spraying a can and waiting. Especially do not use the ones that are self rinsing via the natural condensation of water around the coils where all you have to do is let the foam settle a couple hours before turning the unit back on. These foaming cleaners are also terrible to use on the removable air intake vent covers. You definitely do not just have to spray the opposite side of all the trapped shit on the plastic mesh and let the foam push it off. Also that stuff on the cover is great for you and your air conditioner.

Two women lighting each others’ cigarettes, Westeinde, The Netherlands, 1932.

(Emotional meltdowns that don’t look like meltdowns, but absolutely are)

 The “Smiling Too Much” Grief Your character’s entire world is on fire, and they’re asking if anyone wants more wine. That’s not denial, it’s an effort to hold the damn pieces together. Smile like a glue gun. Watch them crack.

The “Not Crying At the Funeral” Breakdown They don't shed a tear. They organize everything. Perfect speech. Perfect outfit. But a week later, they scream into the laundry basket over a missing sock. That’s the moment. That’s the eulogy.

 The “Silent Dinner Table” Fight No yelling. No slamming doors. Just chewing. Clinking silverware. The kind of silence that tastes like metal. Let the reader feel the air shrink.

 The “Polite but Dead Inside” Apology They say “Sorry” because it’s expected, not because they’re ready. Their voice doesn’t crack. Their eyes don’t meet yours. This isn’t healing. This is a peace treaty with no peace.

The “I Don’t Want to Talk About It” Detour The one where they ask about your day mid-sob. Redirect. Deflect. “Let’s not talk about me.” That’s rage choked by shame. Write it like it’s shoving itself into a smaller box.

 The “Obsessively Productive” Meltdown New projects. New hobbies. Suddenly they’re running marathons, baking sourdough, fixing the garage door. Because if they sit still for one second, they’ll break. Keep the camera on them when they finally sit.

The “Unsent Letters” Grief They write it all down. Every damn emotion. Then burn it. Or delete it. Or hide it in a shoebox under their bed. It’s not for closure. It’s to let the ghosts know they were seen.

The “I’m Fine” That Echoes Delivered too fast. Too sharp. You could bounce a quarter off it. “I’m fine” isn’t fine. It’s the dam cracking. Listen to the echo. Let another character hear the hollowness.

The “Hyper-Logical Rant” Rage They argue with spreadsheets. With perfect bullet points. Cold rage—like ice, not fire. “I’m not mad, I’m just saying…” But that’s a lie. They’re volcanic under that clipboard.