It’s extremely similar to Harvest Moon.

Stardew is a fairly cosy, casual farming game that you can delve pretty deeply into min-maxing if you want. Usually that profit min-maxing is at the expense of a huge portion of the game’s content - no time to befriend local villagers or experience the story if you’re trying to meet your turnip quota.

I have never felt more like a mad scientist. Beautiful game.

Move to pro bono I suppose

I would get so sick of complaining I’d probably start giving good advice and proactively trying to fix shit, eventually driving myself out of business. Then I’d complain about how it’s the government’s fault.

No offense to you, I’ve had conversations with you before and we’re not speaking the same language. I do hope you get help.

I just have him tagged as “schizo”, helps keep me from accidentally getting sucked into conversation with him. Hopefully he gets help someday.

I keep finding new little things like this. For example, I started crying at the dentist during a routine appointment. Turns out that time I had oral surgery and was given insufficient anesthesia kinda traumatized me and I didn’t realize it had stuck with me like that. Huh, new fear unlocked. Lucky me.

At 41 I’m surprised by how much more self confident I have become. I still remember what it felt like being the insecure girl I was in high school, but it’s so obvious to me now that the things I was afraid of then were silly. I wish I had worried less and enjoyed life more back then, but I’m glad I have come as far as I have. I wonder when I look back in another 25 years if I’ll feel just as foreign to myself at 41.

I was eaten by an escalator once. I was around five, and going up with my toes pressed forward against the stair above me. As I got to the top, the stairs slid together pinching the ends of both my tennis shoes between them and trapping me. I yelped and a quick-thinking adult family friend who was just ahead of me pulled me up and right out of my shoes. The ends of both of them got shredded by the grating at the top of the escalator and I was walking around for a while with my (fortunately unharmed) toes sticking out the ends of them.

I’m 41 now and still wary on escalators. I carefully position my feet in the center of the stair and will hold up any long clothes like skirts that might get caught accidentally. My husband thinks it’s funny.

Artist’s rendering for the uninitiated:

Visuals have to be earned. Sounds only.

If you’re a procrastinator it can help to use that “skill” to incentivize stuff like reading. I habitually put off going to sleep, so I’ll read as a way to delay bedtime. If I want to avoid working on a big ongoing frustrating project at work I’ll do a bunch of little work tasks to put it off. Using that desperation to do literally anything else to avoid a particular task kind of feels like a superpower!

If I paint a study of Van Gogh’s Starry Night, even though I painted it it’s NOT my art. Trying to sell a reproduction without acknowledgment that I’m not the original artist is forgery and fraud.

If the concern is about the longevity and reputation of the quack institution, you could point her to a woo factory with accreditation and a better reputation among the crystal crowd, like Naropa in Boulder, CO.

Kind of? It makes you more likely to moderate, stop earlier, do less atrocities if you think the public won’t like it or is ashamed of it.

Good point

This is a really unempathetic response. I know shit’s tough right now and there are a lot of fools out there, but I beg you to at least try to give the benefit of the doubt and try to think through why people might do the things they do, especially when it’s someone enduring a personal tragedy that’s being publicly scrutinized. Think about the poor old woman who had hot coffee spilled on her crotch at a drive through and endured agonizing disfiguring burns - McDonald’s ran a campaign to paint her as a scammer and opportunist when she had done nothing wrong at all.

Most people don’t intentionally endanger themselves or their loved ones and they are usually very deferential to authority, especially in medical settings. There’s nothing to indicate this was any more than a miscommunication involving a heavily blinged-out guy who did nothing wrong. The MRI folks didn’t think to brief him because he wasn’t in the danger zone. His wife called for help. Maybe a very observant doctor could have noticed the guy’s jewelry and gave him a warning. Maybe the wife could have recalled that her husband was wearing metal before calling for him. Maybe the doctors could have better screening procedures for people in the waiting area, or better procedures to control access to the MRI room. I can’t say based on the available information that anyone lacks self awareness or did anything obviously wrong here. Sometimes a lot of coincidences line up to make something terrible happen.

We haven’t tried this one yet. I’m willing to give it a go!