Hello. I started this blog for me, no one else. Leave if you don't like it. Other wise enjoy it.
My name starts with a P. If you can guess it, message me with your guess. I wont judge you, if you don't judge me. I am probably older than you think. So don't think i am a peon, or a superior.
I have thoughts and feelings just like you.
I hope you enjoy them.
We’re looking for intern writers to be part of our growing writing team.
As part of the team, you will work with our editors on assigned topics and come up with pitches/angles to best present your writing.
If you’re interested, here’s what’s in it for you:
1. Paid if you’re consistent and reliable, and quality is not too bad.
2. Reference letters.
3. Something to add to your resume.
4. Volunteer hours if that’s required as part of your school. You can say you’re contributing to social impact on mental health and psychology education.
5. Working with a fast-paced team of editors and managers.
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When you email us, email us with the following:
*NOTE*: Use this template and copy and paste the questions when responding. This makes it easier for us.
1. What other online websites have you published on?
2. Have you worked with an editor in the past?
3. Do you have any published work online?
4. What do you care most about?
5. Do you have experience in academic writing and narrative pieces?
6. What’s your schedule like for the next 3 months?
7. What inspires you to write?
8. Do you have 3-5 hours a week to work on an article?
9. What do you hope from writing for Psych2Go?
10. Do you see this opportunity as more of a collaboration or long term thing?
11. What topics would you like Psych2Go To cover?
Deadline: Aug 1
Email to: editorial@psych2go.net
Email Subject Headline: Your Name, Writing Internship
This happened a few hours ago. (On mobile so sorry for shit formatting and errors)
Okay so I had an assignment draft due today. Nothing big, just two pages but I decided I might as well staple it anyway, just in case it gets lost.
I go to staple it and what do I find? My stapler is empty. No biggie, I’ll just refill it.
I go to close the stapler and my brilliant self thought it was a great idea to place my thumb where the staples come out.
A few seconds later I feel a sharp pain on my thumb so I pull my hand away and with it comes the stapler.
Yes, friends. I stapled my thumb to the stapler.
I lean over to my friend and quietly tell her that I have royally fucked myself and, being the good front she is, she yells across the library to our teacher that I have stapled my thumb.
My teacher confess over and immediately starts panicking because I have a stapler attached to my thumb. She sends my friend and another teacher with me to the nurse.
Half way there the stapler detaches itself but there is still a staple imbedded in my thumb.
We get to the nurse and she starts laughing at the she ridiculousness of the situation. She gives me a bandaid and some Dettol and tells me to pull it out.
I grab the staple and pull. Immediately blood stats pouring out of the tiny holes because if how deep the staple had gone in. I wipe the blood away and put the bandaid on.
The nurse gives me a note to show that I’ve been to her, on which she writes “stapled finger”.
I get back to my class and I glue the staple to the note because why not. Then I decide to actually staple my assignment. I look through it to make sure everything is there and what do I find? The second page is blank. I didn’t need to staple my assignment at all.
This whole situation could have been avoided if I had just checked my work first.
Tl;dr: imbedded a staple in my thumb while trying to refill a stapler
But still interested in feeding yourself? What if I told you that there’s a woman with a blog who had to feed both herself and her young son…on 10 British pounds ($15/14 Euro) per week?
Let me tell you a thing.
This woman saved my life last year. Actually saved my life. I had a piggy bank full of change and that’s it. Many people in my fandom might remember that dark time as when I had to hock my writing skills in exchange for donations. I cried a lot then.
This is real talk, people: I marked down exactly what I needed to buy, totaled it, counted out that exact change, and then went to three different stores to buy what I needed so I didn’t have to dump a load of change on just one person. I was already embarrassed, but to feel people staring? Utter shame suffused me. The reasons behind that are another post all together.
AgirlcalledJack.com is run by a British woman who was on benefits for years. Things got desperate. She had to find a way to feed herself and her son using just the basics that could be found at the supermarket. But the recipes she came up with are amazing.
You have to consider the differing costs of things between countries, but if you just have three ingredients in your cupboard, this woman will tell you what to do with it. Check what you already have. Chances are you have the basics of a filling meal already.
Bake your own bread. It’s easier than you think. Here’s a list of many recipes, each using some variation of just plain flour, yeast, some oil, maybe water or lemon juice. And kneading bread is therapeutic.
She has a book, but many recipes can be found on her blog for free. She prices her recipes down to the cent, and every year she participates in a project called “Living Below the Line” where she has to live on 1 BP per day of food for five days.
Things improved for me a little, but her website is my go to. I learned how to bake bread (using my crockpot, but that was my own twist), and I have a little cart full of things that saved me back then, just in case I need them again. She gives you the tools to feed yourself, for very little money, and that’s a fabulous feeling.
Tip: Whenever you have a little extra money, buy a 10 dollar/pound/euro giftcard from your discount grocer. Stash it. That’s your super emergency money. Make sure they don’t charge by the month for lack of use, though.
I don’t care if it sounds like an advertisement–you won’t be buying anything from the site. What I DO care about is your mental, emotional, and physical health–and dammit, food’s right in the center of that.
If you don’t need this now, pass it on to someone who does. Pass it on anyway, because do you REALLY know which of the people in your life is in need? Which follower might be staring at their own piggy bank? Trust me: someone out there needs to see this.
Reblogging for all the impoverished students. Jack is the breadline queen. And if you don’t need this - donate to your nearest food bank, stat.
Reblogging for students, working folks, and everyone who’s ever had to choose between essentials at the store because you can only afford milk OR bread, not both.
24 is a really awkward age. Half my friends are either on their third child and in the middle of a divorce, or still getting an allowance from their parents while retaking a class for the third time.
