How to find discounts that shouldn't exist (without feeling like a shameless mooch) Part 1: WHOMST to ask Ask (artfully!) and ye shall receive

Please help yourself to $4k like one of my commenters here. imperfectworkingorder.substack.com/p/how-to-fin...

Read this when you want to break up with your body. So like every day because oof, we are just NOT COMPATIBLE.

Stay together, for all the right reasons. For chronically ill and chronically pained peeps on the hard days.

I like to think of any time in history when people survived true awfulness. Reminds me of how tough we can ALL be.

Eurgh. And maybe less dramatically than being institutionalized, just pushed into "it's all in your head" reinforcement for experts that lead to them becoming permanently disabled? (Like, uh, me? Maybe shouldn't have kept skiing on a neck that was screaming for mercy...but "motion is lotion!")

LET'S SCREW CAPITALISM! All classy-like, of course. (Thank you Julie!!)

5 money mind-shifts that will save your bank account when you're chronically ill No, this isn't a primer on kicking off a criminal career. (Drat. I wish I were that cool.)

To my MEeps and other sickly peeps: let's move the convo over to 'Stack!

The immigrant storylines were HEART. BREAKING.

The present moment is rarely that complicated.

Which is why when everything else is, I return as hard as I can to it. The pressure under my feet (or rump ((or back))). The light in my eyes. The air on my face.

And in the stillness, an emotion or clarity that's small enough to manage.

Pre-Thanksgiving PSA:

Butter is dairy. If you're having guests who can't tolerate dairy, please don't cook with butter! You'll poison them.

This is the number one way I've been sickened while eating with well-intentioned hosts. People just don't think of butter as dairy. It is.

Thank you. I don't think able-gutted people understand the true poisoning of eating a trigger food. It. Is. Torture.

Interesting! I was a solid 98.6F every. time. I checked my temp prior to ME/CFS. Now I'm in the 97s, or in flares, 96s. Maybe my body is trying to preserve what's left of my muscles?

Salt. On. Everything.