Home depot salary

I (F30) moved to a different country for work in January. My boyfriend (M30) of almost 3 years was supposed to move with me, but was delayed initially because his visa was delayed and then because he couldn't find a job in the city I've moved to.
Background: As part of my career, I have always been planning on moving overseas for a few years. It's one of the reasons I chose the career I have, and why I signed a contract to work for my company when I was 18. This was always my plan. During the pandemic, I met my boyfriend and we started dating. About a year and a half into our relationship, I told him about this opportunity to go live and work overseas that I was going to be taking, and of his own accord he said that he would move with me. I hadn't even expected that, so I was ecstatic. It was supposed to be this amazing adventure we'd go on together. We spoke a lot about the move, and chose the city together - this was in 2021. We weren't living together yet, but were planning on moving in together in 2022 once his current lease ended.
At the start of 2022 I had the conversation with my boss to let him know I was ready to do the transfer overseas. My bf was aware of this and we were on the same page thoughout. There was a whole months-long process to making the move, from interviews with the overseas branch so I could get the position, to lots of admin around visas and work permits for both me and my bf. In the meantime he started looking for a job - we thought this would be easy for him but he didn't get any offers/interviews and we thought it was cos he didn't yet have his work permit. At this point we had started living together, and had a lovely life together.
My visa was approved but his got delayed, and my start date in the new country was in January this year and he still didn't have a job. Since I'd already signed contracts etc. I had no choice but to leave without him in January. I did the move alone, it was very hard as I hadn't expected to be moving alone. We hoped that everything would be sorted and that he would be here March.
His visa was finally approved at the end of February; but he wasn't comfortable resigning from his job back home until he secured a job here. And he just could not get any interviews in his field here.
I suggested he move here anyway, and look for a job while here. My salary is enough to support us both while he looks for work here, and my company has covered all the relocations costs incl both our flights and visas. He was initially reluctant to move without a job; but eventually agreed as he has been unhappy at his current job, and says he wants to be where I am. Since this though, it's taken him a long time to even broach the topic of him leaving with his boss. And in terms of timelines, he doesn't even know when he would move here. First it was June, then I heard August/September and then even January next year.
He constantly tells me how much he misses me, how miserable he is back home, how much he wants to be here.
But there's no end in sight to this limbo.
So now we are in a long distance relationship that neither of us expected to be in. I will be here for at least 2 years. I've told myself to stop expecting him to be here by a certain time, because every time so far, those hopes have been dashed, and it breaks my heart every time.
I'm all alone here, I know that's not on him, since I was always going to be doing this move overseas. But this long distance relationship was never something I expected, and it's really hard and painful being with him but not being with him. I'm supposed to be having the most amazing time overseas, but I've been so so sad and I don't know what to do.
It seems like we're at this impasse, and I know I should be patient and hope that things will work out but the not knowing is really hard, I don't know how to handle it. I keep wondering if our relationship will survive this; I'm hurting so much that I almost just want to end it. But it's crazy to end a relationship that was so strong just because it's now long distance, right?? We were going to get engaged this year. He was supposed to be with me right now. And now it's like, well if you can't handle a little distance (though a 19 hour flight isn't little) then was any of that valid?
Need some advice, cos my head is all messed up.

Pine needles brushed across Paul's arms as he charged through the trees with his bugout bag slung over his shoulders. Weighing in at forty pounds, it hardly slowed him down as he’d practiced this hike many times. He flicked his wrist and checked his Garmin Solar 2 Tactical Watch. The timer read: 2:23.
“You can do this, Paul.” He increased the pace and gritted his teeth, the weight finally having an effect. Paul bounded over a small creek, up a rolling hill, and pushed through a row of baby birches into a clearing. He doubled over to catch his breath and looked at his watch one more time. Two hours and twenty-eight minutes. Paul pumped his fist in victory.
After a short break, he approached a thorny bush in the center of the clearing. Paul brushed aside sand at the bush’s trunk, revealing a yellow rope. He pulled it, which lifted a hidden door in the ground covered with dirt, shrubbery, and other camouflage on the top side, and drab gray iron on the other. Underneath, wooden stairs descended into darkness. Paul retrieved a flashlight from his pack, clicked on the beam, and disappeared into the earth.
At the bottom of the steps, Paul faced a steel door and a combination lock. With several quick swipes of the dial, he opened the lock and tugged the metal door, which creaked as it cracked open. Paul flashed the beam on the offending hinges and shook his head. Something to fix later. He stepped into the secret chamber and pulled a hanging aluminum chain that turned on a large halogen light, illuminating a twenty-foot by eight-foot metal rectangle. The exposed corrugated walls revealed the bunker was nothing more than a shipping container. Paul buried it two years ago and had divided the interior into three spaces. The entry had a shelf with four dozen gallon jugs of sealed water along with a portable toilet, stacks of toilet paper, and a wastebasket. The middle section was the main living area and contained a futon, a TV with a DVD player, and a neat collection of movies underneath. A nightstand housed a small library of books, including the Bible, The Art of Meditation, Buddhism for Dummies, and other spiritual tomes. The back area of the unit had two shelves filled with canned food—black beans, green beans, peaches, peas, carrots, beef, and chicken. There was also a stationary bike, which was Paul’s proudest accomplishment because he had rigged it to a giant battery that provided power to all the electronics.
Paul was a prepper, and this would be his home when the end of the world came, an event he believed was imminent. The global economy was a house of cards built on greed, corruption, and inflated asset prices, but worst of all, it was based on a faith in paper and digital money.
His fear was triggered four years ago when he attended a lecture by a professor who explained the fragility of the world’s financial system. If a few banks failed, it would rattle people’s confidence, causing a herd-like response. Thousands of people would rush to withdraw their cash, which the banks no longer had because they’d invested it. The banks would either fail, and everyday folks would lose their life savings, or the government would print new money to replace the missing money, making all money worth a lot less. Anyone holding dollars would attempt to convert them to other assets.
Just like dominoes, the banks would topple over one by one, and as they crashed, people’s faith in money would crater. After all, what was money? It was just paper with printed images and numbers that we’d all accepted as having value. More recently, money had become numbers displayed on a computer screen, something Paul knew firsthand as he spent the first seven years of his career working at a regional bank in Asheville, North Carolina. Paul could literally change someone’s net worth with a few keystrokes. He could turn a pauper into a millionaire, or he could bankrupt the richest account holder. Sure, there were safeguards, but all were built on faith, which Paul believed was misplaced. Most people didn’t realize that the Federal Reserve only required each bank to hold at least ten percent of its deposits as a reserve. Ten percent. That’s it. The rest of the money was invested in loans or other financial instruments. As the rich bank owners and executives pushed for bigger and bigger returns, they invested in riskier and riskier assets. The lessons from the financial crisis of 2008 had been forgotten.
Once the monetary system collapsed, the entire economy would become paralyzed. Without a means of exchange, transactions would halt. Think about it. If someone tried to give you a slip of paper that you thought was worthless, would you give them anything of value in return?
The doomsday scenario would escalate. Food and water prices would skyrocket, but with no way to purchase them, many would starve. But people don’t just roll over and die, they would riot and take what they need to survive. Marshall Law would be implemented, but citizens would revolt against the government they felt had cheated them.
As Paul listened to the lecturer that fateful day, a depressing epiphany struck. Everything he’d learned and everything he’d spent his life acquiring was worthless.
Growing up, Paul had been taught the value of money, saving, and planning for retirement. He internalized these lessons as a teen after his father got sick and lost his job. His mother had died when he was very young, but his father still managed to provide him with a stable childhood, even though they were barely middle class. When his father fell ill, Paul witnessed firsthand how fast a family could sink into financial trouble, which couldn’t have come at a worse time. He was applying to colleges, and instead of choosing the one he liked best, he chose the one that gave him the most financial aid, which turned out to be a small school half-way across the country. He also didn’t choose a major he was excited about; he chose the one that would offer the safest financial prospects—economics with an emphasis on banking.
The distance from home meant that Paul didn’t see the rapid deterioration of his father. It wasn’t until he returned for the funeral that family friends told him how the disease had spread. His father had refused to let anyone tell Paul because he didn’t want that to distract Paul from his studies.
After graduating, Paul accepted a job at a bank, and immediately signed up for the company’s 401K match. Most college graduates can't grasp retirement when they enter the workforce, but a 401K match was free money. Over the next several years, Paul worked diligently to advance his career while saving most of his salary. He’d mapped out his life on an excel spreadsheet and calculated that he’d be financially secure at 53.
Everything went according to plan until that damn lecturer came along and blew it up. Sifting through the rubble of his grand scheme, Paul realized that in the new world order, he possessed no skills to survive. The savings he’d so meticulously built up would have little to no value. When the economy collapsed, he'd be like a baby, unable to do anything for himself.
After a week of wallowing in despair, Paul rallied himself. “I can still fix this” became a daily mantra. To start, he threw himself into survival classes. The first was a basic camping course where he learned how to create shelters and start a fire. The next class was more advanced and focused on water purification and building snares for small game.
Paul continued working at the bank, because he needed to pay for the classes and survival equipment he began hoarding, but on his next vacation, he put his training to the test. He planned to camp for a week in the Appalachian Mountains, but the temperature swings, especially at night, were too much. Paul lasted three nights in the wild. The humbling experience forced him to admit that he wasn’t a bushman. His depression returned until he stumbled upon an article about “preppers”—individuals who prepare for end of world disasters. Suddenly, things made sense. He didn’t need to abandon all the comforts of modern society. He needed to prepare for the end of the world the way he had planned for retirement.
As Paul traveled down the rabbit hole of prepping, he uncovered an underground society of people like him who knew the truth about the world’s demise. Of course, not everyone believed it would end because of an economic collapse. Some thought a nuclear war would destroy civilization. Others feared electromagnetic pulses from the sun would wipe out all modern electricity. And still others worried a massive volcanic eruption would spew enough ash and soot into the air to blot out the sun. There was no shortage of theories about the world ending, but one thing was clear. The world would end. Did it matter how it happened?
Paul began his prepping quest by purchasing ten acres an hour and a half outside of Asheville. It had plenty of small animals and a creek running through the middle. He then transported an unused cargo container to the land and buried it. This was the toughest part of the plan because it required heavy equipment. Next, he dug out a staircase and installed a steel door at the entrance. Finally, he furnished it with a mix of modern comforts and survival essentials.
Almost every weekend, Paul trekked to his underground sanctuary and made improvements. He also planned his bugout strategy. When the end of the world hit, he figured he needed to be safely hidden in his home within two and a half hours, a time he had achieved with this latest trip. Everything was set, and Paul could finally relax. He was prepared.
Paul slumped down on his futon and considered playing a movie or cracking the bottle of Jim Beam whiskey he stored in a special cabinet, but he shook off the urge. Those things were the rewards and comforts he’d enjoy after the world ended. His fingers rubbed the top of the Bible, something he planned to read cover to cover once the global economy cratered. He’d have plenty of time then to discover his spiritual side, but not now. Something else needed to be done. Something he’d missed.
The biggest mistake a prepper can make is assuming he had everything covered. This was the lesson taught by Yannis, the guru of the prepping world. He was so well-known within the doomsday community; he only went by one name. The guy was sharp as a whip and could live off the land, if necessary, but he preferred a more sophisticated lifestyle, so he created a luxurious cave that contained backup systems for all his backups. Food, water, shelter, and electricity were all taken care of, and it was projected that Yannis could survive ten years comfortably after the apocalypse. His famous blog titled “ABP” stood for Always Be Preparing. It was a motto Yannis lived by and something Paul aspired to, but as he sat in his bunker after the relentless hike, fatigue set in. He didn’t want to think about prepping or his bugout strategy. He wanted to just be.
Paul tilted his head back onto the futon’s cushion, and a loneliness crept into his mind. All his prepping left little time for relationships. He dated off and on in college, but it was never anything serious. It wasn’t like his high school sweetheart, Kristin Summer. They dated junior and senior year, but then Paul broke it off when his father got sick. Paul couldn’t focus on romance, and he knew the relationship wouldn’t have worked when he left for school 1,500 miles away. It still hurt when he learned from a friend that Kristin started dating Derek Gorman, an old classmate Paul hated. It hurt even more when he found out they had gotten married.
After college, Paul joined a couple of dating sites, but he hadn’t used them in over two years. Most women wouldn’t understand his prepping lifestyle, at least that’s what he feared, so he rejected dating before anyone could reject him. But most wasn't all, and with eight billion people on the planet, there had to be someone for him. Almost without thinking, Paul pulled out his phone and opened “My Match,” the site where he’d had the most luck. His profile still had a photo from his early banking days. He was clean shaven with a naïve smile. The face staring back in the picture differed greatly from the bearded survivalist he’d become. Would anyone consider a relationship with the new Paul? Only one way to find out. He snapped a selfie, uploaded it, and then updated his hobbies with the first being “prepping” followed by “survival skills training.” He finished by pressing the button that showed he was actively looking for someone. All he had to do now was wait.
After spending the night in his bunker, Paul checked the dating site in the morning. No response. “It was a stupid idea,” he told himself, and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He locked his container and returned home.
Over the next two weeks, Paul received zero requests for a date. He didn’t even receive a message from anyone to start a conversation and test the waters. “Shake it off, dumbass,” he said alone in the confines of his cottage-style home. “The world is going to end, anyway.” He clenched his jaw and did what he always did. He researched more ways to survive. Paul poured over blog posts and imagined worst-case scenarios. How could his water be contaminated? Maybe he should bury some caches of water. What if someone finds his shelter? Maybe security cameras were needed. What if he gets lonely in his shelter? No ideas came to mind.
After his eyes got tired from reading, Paul clicked out of his browser, and the list of all his apps stared at him. For reasons unknown to him, he opened Facebook, something he hadn’t done for months. There were a handful of notifications and a couple of friend requests sent weeks ago. His heart raced when he saw the name of one—Kristin Summer. When he accepted, he saw she was on-line right then.
Should he message her? Would that be weird right after accepting her request? But wasn’t it weird that he hadn’t responded for several weeks? He pulled up the messenger and typed. “Hey. Sorry for the delay in accepting your request. Hadn’t been on Facebook in a while. Been busy. Hope you and Derek are well.”
He curled his lip in disgust as he typed Derek’s name and considered deleting it, but he took the moral high ground and hit “send” with his message unaltered.
Kristin Summer. Just the thought of her name brought a smile to Paul’s face.
Bing.
The sound alerted Paul to a response, which he read out loud. “Hey Paul. Good to hear from you. Derek and I divorced a little over a year ago. It was rough at first, but it was for the best. How are you?”
Paul’s eyes widened with shock and excitement. He couldn’t believe Derek was so stupid to let Kristin go. Paul could at least blame their breakup on his father’s illness. His fingers prattled away on the keyboard. “Things are amazing.” He stopped typing. That was a lie. Should he pretend like things were great or should he be honest and tell her about his prepping and the end of the world? Neither option sounded appealing. He tapped the keys without writing until he settled on something uncontroversial.
“Working at Trinity Bank in Asheville. It pays the bills. Where are you?”
Within a minute, the sweet sound of the notification binged. “I’m not too far away in Durham. If you’re ever in town, let me know.”
If you’re ever in town, let me know.
Paul couldn’t believe his eyes. Was Kristin asking him out? He shook his head. Nah, she’s probably just being polite. But maybe. If there was any chance, he had to find out. He chewed his lip and deliberated his next response. Fortune favors the bold, he told himself. Then he remembered Matt Damon telling people that in the now infamous commercial for FTX months before its collapse. When that occurred, Paul thought it was the beginning of the end, and he lived in his bunker for two days before emerging and finding the world still intact.
Paul clenched his fist. It was still good advice, and he had to try. Almost involuntarily, he typed, “I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. If you want to get together, let me know.” His finger hit send before he could talk himself out of it. There was no qualification in the message. No waffling or hedging. It was clear Paul wanted to see Kristin. The only question now was whether she wanted to see him.
The next ten minutes felt like ten days. Paul paced back and forth with his hands over his head, and he glanced at the monitor every few seconds, just in case his ears had missed the notification alert.
There was nothing.
A dark depression filled the room. Why had he gotten his hopes up? What was the point, anyway? The world was going to end.
Bing.
Paul leapt to the computer and his eyes widened with each word he read. “How about a lunch at The Fig Tree Restaurant on 7th?”
People overuse the word literally, but Paul at least felt like his jaw was literally on the floor. He had a date with Kristin Summer, the one woman he had loved. His hands rattled away at the keyboard. “See you at 1 tomorrow.”
“Holy crap,” he muttered to himself.
Panic replaced his excitement when he imagined sitting down and talking to Kristin. What would he say? “Hey Kristin, what have you been up to? Oh me? I’ve been working at a job I hate and planning for the end of the world.”
He drifted into the bathroom and stared at the scruffy character in the mirror. Paul could only cringe at the thought of Kristin’s reaction upon seeing him. She might not recognize the bearded loner who resembled Ted Kaczynski more than the short-haired, clean-shaven teen she last saw.
Only one thing to do.
Paul had to prepare. He opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of clippers. He began trimming his beard and mustache as short as the clippers would allow. Next, he applied a generous amount of cream and shaved all of it off. Paul smirked at the young man hiding under the shabby beard, but it still wasn’t enough. He set the guard on the clippers to a four and began shaving his head. In college, Paul cut his own hair to save money, and the skill came back to him quickly. He dropped to a three and worked in a fade on the sides and then finished with a two. Paul turned to the left, then to the right, and assessed his work. Not bad.
Next thing to prepare was his outfit. Paul slid the door of his closet open and evaluated his choices. A banker’s suit was too stuffy, and his mountain man denim was too hermit inspired. He yanked the clothes aside and climbed deeper into the recesses of his wardrobe until he found a nice buttoned-down shirt and a dark pair of slacks. It gave just the right vibe of successful and stable, while not trying too hard to impress, even though that was his precisely his goal. Paul laid the selection on the chair by his bed. Durham was a three-and-a-half-hour drive away, and he wanted to make sure he got there with time to find parking, and maybe use the restroom. He set the alarm on his iPhone for 6 a.m. That would give him plenty of time to take a shower, have breakfast, and get dressed.
There was no chance of falling asleep easily. His mind raced with thoughts, questions, and various scenarios about what the day would bring. To relax, he poured himself a double whiskey, which he downed with a single slurp. He poured another and sipped.
Kristin Summer. He shook his head, still in disbelief.
As the effect of alcohol set in, Paul laid down on his bed and shut his eyes. Tomorrow would be a good day.
Paul slipped into a deep, satisfying sleep until his mind jolted him awake. It was past 6 a.m. He didn’t know how he knew. He just knew. Paul had slept through his alarm. He snatched his phone off the nightstand, but it was out of battery. He checked his watch and saw it was 7 a.m. There was still time to get to Durham.
Paul jumped out of bed and into the bathroom. He flicked on the light switch, but nothing came on. Paul toggled it on and off, but the outlet was dead.
Police sirens wailed in the distance. Paul meandered out of his house and onto the front lawn. Aside from the sirens, there was an uneasy stillness. Paul’s neighbor Kurt ran out from his home with two suitcases that he flung into the trunk of his car.
“Kurt. What’s going on?” Paul asked.
“Fort Knox was bombed. All the gold was obliterated. And something happened to the electricity and the internet. They shut it down.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know, man, but it’s not good. No one has access to news, no money, nothing.”
“Where are you going?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know. Somewhere isolated. I’m just hoping there are no more bombings or other attacks.” Kurt jumped into his car and sped away.
This was it. The world was ending. All of his preps were about to pay off. But what about Kristin? Paul didn’t want the world to end. If he tried to get Kristin, there was no chance he could reach his shelter before things get hairy. Plus, there was no way he could find her. He didn’t have her address, and she might have already left Durham for somewhere safe.
Paul forced himself to focus on his plan. This was what he had prepared for. He dashed back inside and changed into his camouflage gear, grabbed his bugout bag, and then sprinted to his truck. He drove through his neighborhood and reached the main road. His shelter and plans were to the left. Kristin and the unknown were to the right. The whites of Paul’s knuckles flared as he gripped the steering wheel. Now was not the time to waffle. He turned left and hit the accelerator.
Paul gritted his teeth and raced down the street. Keep going. Keep going. He urged himself on. Almost involuntarily, his foot slammed on the brakes. Paul couldn’t do it. He’d planned for the worst all his life, and while he sat alone with the engine idling, he had to admit the truth. He’d lived all his life in fear.
Paul yanked the wheel and turned around toward Durham.

During the summer of 2020, I met a wonderful woman. Our relationship was lovely until we wanted to have sex for the first time. Long story short -- She was unable to have penetrative sex. It's called "vaginismus" and it's a difficult condition to deal with. Basically the muscles are too contracted and don't allow anything to go inside (heavily summarised but you get the idea). Although we could enjoy sexual intimacy in other aspects, this was was really a shock for me. She was only starting to deal with it, but wanted to take her path towards overcoming this very slowly, and obviously didn't want to be pressured. I stuggled a lot with it, but wanted to stay with her because besides that, she was everything I looked for in a woman. It was the kind of relationship where the 2 people become best friends. It felt wonderful to be around her.
The struggle became too much to handle and was affecting her a lot, so I decided to see a therapist about this. Sadly, the therapy sessions only exacerbated the situation. It quickly became a black and white game of "either you accept it and move on with her pace, or you must break up".
I fought this feeling very hard. She ultimately shared with me that she had a traumatic sexual experience in the past, and that may have been the cause of her current condition. This broke my heart and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was determined to let go of all those thoughts and just wanted to be there for her, whatever it took.
Unfortunately, by that time I was in too deep. I was seeing a therapist every week going over all this. I told me close friends what I was dealing with. I told my sister. Basically this issue had taken center stage in my whole life and it was all I could think about. It completely consumed me from the inside out and permanently damaged our relationship.
Everytime I brought up the subject, I felt I was hurting her. I certainly was not helping at all. It made her so uncomfortable and was destroying us.She eventually decided to take steps to go to a specific type of therapy that could potentially heal this condition.
By Christmas, I had a mental breakdown. Sessions with my therapist had gone so far that I didn't see any end in sight. We were both next to each other sitting on her bed, and out of the blue I started crying my eyes out. I told her I loved her, that she was beautiful, but I couldn't take it anymore. I was hurting her, myself, and us so much, that I finally said that we needed to break up. It was the most awful moment in my life. It felt like it wasn't even me speaking, but I couldn't stop it. Every word that came out was hurting even more.
After my awful rambling, she was shocked, she wasn't ready to hear that. She told me she was actually positive about things, and couldn't understand why I would want to push her away now. Indeed, she had signed up to go to therapy herself, and was beginning to take the steps to heal for herself rather than just for me.
And you know what happened ? Simply saying to her "we need to breakup" was finally adressing the elephant in the room all this time. After all, this was what it was all about, and saying it out loud was oddly cathartic. It's as if saying "we must breakup" lifted a curse, and we could finally go forward together (as insane as that sounds).
I tried to make her understand this. I felt we had entered a new territory now that all the cards were on the table, we were really seeing each other for who we were and I was now determined to make things work once and for all.
She and I were shook as hell, but were keen to start rebuilding once we'd get back from Christmas break.
Christmas break happened, and the 2nd COVID lockdown also happened. This meant I was stuck back home in France for who knows how long while she was in the UK. We texted and called as much as we could, but weeks went by with no end in sight. She was someone who always had a difficult time with uncertainty and anxiousness, so decided that we wouldn't speak/text/call until we knew when we could see eachother again.
During that time, I started reflecting on my life back in the UK. I was making extremely little money, I didn't have any friends, I had a shitty flat that was leaking. The housing market was a disaster, and in order to be comfortable living there I'd need to be making at least twice my annual salary.
I started to compare my life to hers and felt I wasn't enough. She was making more money, had a longer career, owned her flat, had many friends. I didn't have any of these things, and after all I didn't have any ties to the UK. Slowly, the idea that I didn't belong there and that I needed to move back to my country started to take hold. We went back and forth about this over the phone. She said I wasn't many any place for her in my life, and it was true. However during this period I was all over the place, and was self-doubting myself at every turn. Ultimately, I was breaking up with her once more, this time for a different reason.
I finally went back to the UK and was completely lost. Finding a job in France didn't work out, and I still had no idea where my life was. We saw eachother once there, and I wished my life wasn't so fucked up so I could just be happy with the life I had. But I was so far gone in self-doubt that my mental state was incompatible with any kind of relationship.
Months went by and I got a job offer for a company in Barcelona. It felt dodgy but I decided to take it. The money was great, and I thought maybe a drastic change could bring something good. Still very much in love, I wrote a letter to my ex-girlfriend. Kind of saying everything I just said in this thread, but once again pouring my heart out and telling her I'd love to see her one last time before I go.
Seeing her "one last time" became more than several times over a few weeks, where it was obvious our chemistry and attraction was still there.
Before I left, we had one last important conversation where she told me although she cared about me deeply, she didn't trust me anymore. I was up and down all the time and she didn't know what I wanted. I would tell her I love her, and then find a reason to break up with her. Although it hurt me to have a woman I love so much see me in such negative light, she was right.
We stayed in touch after I arrived in Barcelona. She wanted to come see me there, which made me very happy.
However, the job in Barcelona turned out not to be what I expected and it was a huge mistake. They lied on the job description and during the interviews, and I was barely qualified for it. I had to quit, or I would lose my career doing something so different.
Saying this to her once again painted me as unstable and untrustworthy.
That's when she finally had enough. She told me she couldn't be emotionally invested anymore with so much uncertainty about me, and didn't want to continue being in touch with me. This hurt me deeply, but I respected her wishes and felt she was right. I was extremely undependable and unstable.
Following that, I found a good paying job in... Italy. I took it, and moved there. I made loads of friends, loads of money, but still feel empty and lost. I'm now back on the job market, and I feel like I have sacrificed a life I could have had for awful selfish reasons.
I've dreamt about her last night again.
After all this, I keep thinking to myself none of it was worth it.
I left a good woman in the search of a better career, more money, and more friends. I got all that, and still feel as empty inside. I've been with other women since, and I've felt nothing for them.
If I could do it all over, I would do everything completely differently and really make it work with someone who I loved so much.
Our time together was so short. Just so damn short because once the sex issue appeared, everything just unraveled and it was never the same again. So we only had 1 or 2 months of being happy together.
I'm ashamed of myself because I feel I have taken advantage of her, stringing her along with my unstable life and bad decisions. I took all the freedom to do crazy things like wanting to move away, find a job elsewhere, break up, go explore new opportunities etc. While she was just trying to live her life the best she could.
What right do I have to miss her ? It was I who destroyed everything.
Thank you for reading.
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TL;DR: A few months after meeting my (now ex) girlfriend, I learned she was unable to have penetrative sex. This blew my mind and sent me down a downward spiral where I had crazy mood-swings, self-doubts, became selfish, and made up baseless decisions out of thin air, all of which ultimately killed our relationship. Despite all of this she is the one I have loved the most and with whom I had the deepest connection. I miss her deerly, but feel like I don't have the right to miss her. Because it was me who broke her heart, me who hurt our relationship, me who became a selfish lunatic, and me who ultimately killed what we had. I've moved and started a new life in Italy for more money, and years later I still feel it wasn't worth it.

With more and more people vying for a spot in a CS course, I thought I'll share my thoughts on opportunities a degree in CS would open up and the reality of these jobs.
For some context, I have interned at FAANG as an SWE, a trading firm as an SWE and another trading firm as a trader. While this allows me to compare and contrast my experiences, keep in mind that experiences are often team dependent so I shall focus on things that apply at a company level. I'm sure there are many of you who dream of landing a job at the likes of Google or Jane Street - I have been in your shoes too and hopefully I can help you figure out whether these jobs are what you really want.
Doors a CS degree would open
A CS degree is extremely flexible. You will have the math and programming foundations for jobs like: software engineer, machine learning engineer, product manager, quant trader, quant researcher, data analyst, data engineer and any more. While these seem like vastly different titles, a CS degree will equip you with the foundational programming skills and more importantly, the ability to solve problems independently. A lot of the learning happens on the job, which means you shouldn't rule out applying for something just because you don't fully satisfy the job descriptions - most people don't anyway.
I feel like the go-to job for CS grads is software engineering, but designing new features and doing code reviews all day is not for everyone. CS is also a very broad field with subfields like AI, ML, NLP, systems, graphics, algorithms, software engineering. Take the time to look into areas you might be interested, and use internships to explore different areas to get a feel of what you like the most.
Tech vs Finance
These are probably the 2 most common industries CS grads end up in, so I thought I should comment a bit about their similarities and differences.
Similarities
- There is no shortage of smart people in either industry
- Both are pretty results-driven
- Both industries pay quite well, and can have good benefits
Differences
- Tech is more laid back, finance moves faster. I was coming into office anywhere between 9-10am in tech with option to WFH, in finance it was more like 8am with no option to WFH
- Some roles are limited to tech - UX designers, product managers. Some roles are limited to finance - quant traders and researchers
Expectations vs Reality
Unsurprisingly, many people aim to land jobs at FAANG companies and trading firms because of their eye-popping pay, crazy benefits, and the prestige associated with working at these places. Everyone has different things they look for in a job, so you should tailor your search to suit your goals. That being said, I will weigh in with my thoughts having worked at a few of these firms.
I'll start off with the premise that if these companies could pay you any lesser to do your job, they would. Lower employee cost => More profits for shareholders => Attract more investment => Company grows. There are 2 main reasons why they are not offering you lower than they are.

1. Competitors: if Company A offers you 5,000/month while Company B offers you 7,000/month and all else is equal, everyone would leave A to join B. We saw this when trading firm intern offers topped off at 96/hr in 2022, but Optiver raised to 112/hr in 2023. Citadel quickly followed with 120/hr and Jane Street called up interns to raise their offer to 120/hr
2. Work that is expected of you: if a trading firm offered the same salary as a tech firm, nobody would join the trading firm. Trading firms offer more because more is expected of you - just because you cleared the interview doesn't mean that you're getting twice the salary for the same amount of work

With that in mind, hopefully you can start to see how not everything is captured in the number that is your total compensation. There is a big element of the fight for talent and work expected that goes into it.
Another thing that isn't captured by numbers is job risk. Nobody told Meta and Amazon engineers in their contracts about the possibility of being laid off, yet it happened. Tech firms are barely hiring in an economic climate where recession is a possibility, and I'm sure there are many non-FAANG companies that looked to cut costs in other areas instead of having a knee-jerk reaction and laying off 11% of the company at short notice.
Trading firms are also notorious for cutting under-performers, even more so for front office roles like quant traders. Jane Street has a roughly 50% conversion rate for trading interns, and when you see the profiles of some of these trading interns - IMO medallists, ICPC world finalists, attending top universities like Harvard and MIT, you can probably imagine how much effort you might need to put in to keep up. Just to give an example of what my schedule looked like as a trading intern: I would wake up at 7am, get to office by 8am, trade all the way from 8.30am to 5.30pm, and clear up admin tasks until 6.30pm, getting home at around 7.30pm. After dinner and shower it's already 8.30pm and I hit the bed by 10pm.
Not saying this schedule is something people cannot cope with, but this life is not for everyone. It requires a lot of discipline, not to mention being focused at work so you don't lose 10k in a matter of minutes by making the wrong trades. I'm fortunate that this is something that I find pretty fun which keeps me going, but staring at an ever changing wall of numbers for 8 hours a day is not everyone's cup of tea.
Another shallow reason to factor into where you want to work is company prestige. FAANG and trading firms are hyped up a lot in schools and on these forums, with people dreaming about getting an offer from Hudson River Trading or Apple. Even as someone who values prestige, I can tell you it fades away pretty quick when you're dragging yourself out of bed at 7am and you're given what will likely take a year as a 3-month intern project. Sure, it feels good to have an offer from these companies and put in on your CV, but please look beyond the brand name and consider things like company culture too. I know way too many people who have joined Citadel, gotten free IPads and private jet flights for an offsite event, just to work 70 hour weeks and hate themselves afterwards.
These are some things I have come to value through my internships that you can consider too:

1. Good mentorship: The difference in having a managementor who cares about you is massive. I've been fortunate enough to get mentors who were willing to get on a 4 hour call with me to debug my code, advocate for me during reviews with my manager. Some firms have a strong mentorship culture like Google (each intern has a host) and Amazon (each intern is assigned a mentor), but there are many other companies that do as well
2. Exploring other areas: I also used to be under the impression that studying CS is simply preparing to be a software engineer. That is most definitely not true, and I'm glad I got to try out trading during an internship
3. Culture: Again, this is usually quite team dependent, and you don't always have control over what team you get placed on. However, some firms are known for having a more laid-back culture like Google, a more intense culture like Optiver, or a more elitist culture like Jump Trading (barely takes any new grads). You can probably use this and your personality to decide where you would be a good fit at

These are the key points that I felt should be touched on, but feel free to ask about others!

This is really hard for me to type so apologies in advance if it doesn't make sense. The long version is here
I'll take excerpts from it to save anyone reading this time, but for context I'd be grateful if you could read the post linked above.

my grandma had a freak accident when I was 15. She got her legs crushed by a double decker bus and she had to have multiple surgeries and a below the knee amputation. She's now wheelchair bound and underweight. My mum has blamed my sibling and I during fights for her accident, and said it was caused by not going to see my father and therefore causing his family to curse my grandma as a punishment.

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My mother fired our good lawyer, hired a terrible lawyer and accepted a settlement of about £500,000. None of that money is here anymore, she was reckless with it and we're struggling everyday. Out of desperation, I set up a gfm a few weeks ago for my grandma but I haven't even tried to spread it out of embarrassment.

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My nmom is my grandma's full time carer, but she has been abusing her out of frustration, continuing to blame my dad and her father for everything that has gone wrong in her life. I haven't been allowed to publicly grieve and she knows I can't forgive her for what she's done to my sister and I.

I'm desperate. I want some advice on how I can help my grandma out and get her the care she needs and deserves, and to live with some dignity before her time comes. I'm the sole earner right now and only earn about £1k a month / £12k a year, and so I feel powerless and I'm barely clinging on as is.
My grandma’s home is also unsuitable and she cannot live on her own anymore. I think she’s suffering from dementia but getting her to the doctors is difficult and my mum is anti-pharma.
I have video and photo evidence of her home being unfit for her condition and also recordings of the abuse. I’m just not sure how to use it to help her.
I'm thinking of trying to start a social media campaign, but I really don't want to have to put my personal life out there. It's mortifying but I don't know what else to do. I don't think we can reopen the case because of the settlement and a full time carer costs much more than my annual salary.
Can anyone give any advice or point me to where I can get some help?
Any help is appreciated. Thank you

First off I appreciate all the suggestions, advice and encouragement. I’ve been posting about a trio of senior kitties, trying to find them homes because they were wilting at the Baldwin Park shelter. There were many awesome people I heard from and that helped a lot. Thank you all.
I picked up Thalia yesterday morning from the shelter. The moment I opened her carrier box the smell was absolutely awful, she smelled like rotten filth and had globs of thick yellow and red drool hanging from both sides of her mouth. The globs were everywhere but her back, dried all over and incredibly disgusting. She was more dried filth than cat. But she purred and leaned into my petting.
I got her home, bathed her and examined the notes from the shelter vet. He noted a few times that she had stomatitis and a poor prognosis. He knew the first time he checked her how much pain she was in and just let her stay months at that shelter in excruciating pain.
I made her an appointment for this morning with my trusted vet, he’s a very good man. He was horrified that the shelter didn’t euthanize her immediately, for her sake. The chance of fixing her issues was very slim and he said she had to be at an 11/10 on the pain scale all day, every day. This issue didn’t happen overnight, it would have taken years.
Her original owner had to have known…for years…what was happening. When the condition became too bad she dumped her at a shelter. That shelter didn’t do what they were supposed to for a suffering animal. A person adopted her and returned her for “aggression” within 3 days. This was complete and utter BS, this little angel did nothing but purr and enjoy cuddles.
I do a lot of rescues. Since October alone I’ve scooped up dozens of hamsters and a few cats, rescuing them from situations that their negligent, uncaring owners caused. Did you know that every hamster cage sold by stores in the US is insanely cruel to hamsters? Even the smallest dwarf needs a minimum of 650 sq inches and at least 6-8” of bedding. If you go to Home Depot and look at their 55 gallon storage bin, that’s about the size you need…at least. Anything less is cruel and is even against the law in countries like Germany. All that chewing-on-the-bars and running around that so many people like to say is cute is a hamster being driven mad by what amounts to a Harry Potter staircase closet for a human.
Animals are living creatures and deserving of at the very least a bare minimum of living conditions. They are little souls dependent on the people that are supposed to be caring for them. If you don’t want an animal for life then don’t get one please. I don’t care if it’s a hamster, rat, cat, possum or horse. If they are living beings then they sure as hell should be treated as such and not like disposable toys that can be ignored, abandoned and tossed away like trash. Don’t get that hamster because your child (who is probably not ready for the responsibility) thought it was cute in a pet store. Do your research and be willing to provide what the animal needs for the rest of its life or DON’T GET IT.
Today my rescue cat Thalia was euthanized. My vet and I realized it was the only humane solution for her, no matter how much I (selfishly) wanted a little bit more time with her. So I held her as she died, and she literally purred with her head resting on my chest until she was gone. She let go before he had fully dispensed the 2nd injection. I tried to not cry until she was gone and just kept telling her how sorry I was that humans had failed her so badly for so long. She was an absolute angel and so loving, despite the immense amount of pain she was in.
When I brought her home yesterday I had decided to keep her for the rest of her life. I couldn’t wait to get her to the vet and start treatments that would help remove her pain. I didn’t know how short our time would be and instead I kissed her still head and have been crying since, switching between deep sadness and absolute rage.
The way our society treats animals is the way we treat each other. There are those who truly believe that just because someone doesn’t look, sound or act like them that makes those people or animals lesser. It’s an ugly mentality and causes a huge amount of the problems in this world. Every living being is worthy of basic respect and decency. From a child going hungry without lunch because the community decided not every child deserves to be fed if their parents can’t afford it to a rat being thrown into a trash bag to die a slow and horrible death with the other rats in there with him…these are LIVING SOULS.
If you don’t like animals, fine. How about not getting any and at least dealing with those you come across with decency? I know there are good people in this world as hurt and horrified by what they see every day as I am. I just feel like we are the minority and the majority just don’t care. We need to do so much better as a species. Stop this ass-backwards bigoted and hateful thinking and behave like decent human beings, please.
Please.

Looking to make a big move about 6 hours away from my current store. I want to stay working at Home Depot so I’m just wondering if I’d be able to transfer stores.

Hi, I am new to Huntsville. Would it be okay to take my large, aggressive, unpredictable, non-service dog to Lowe's (or Home Depot, etc) without a muzzle while I browse around?

I am ranting but also looking for advice on how to address this tomorrow.
I feel like I need to give background on the situation I'm in. Last October, my boyfriend and I relocated to a small city (10k population). I took a job at the local Chamber of Commerce. When I was hired, there were 3 other staff members, including my boss, L. Two staff members left not long after I started, one retiring and one taking another position. Since January, I have worked alone in the Chamber with L. L is kind of the worst. L behaves inappropriatley for an office. L overshares about all details in their life, talks on the phone with family members and friends constantly through the day, and does hardly any work. I do not give L any details about my life (I won't even share my weekend plans) because I don't trust L with any personal information. L watches my social media closely, and brings up anything I post. Its super uncomfortable. I blocked L's personal account on Instagram, and they used our shared business account to look at my "story" and then commented on that post to me at work. Anyway, I think you get the picture that L does not have any sense of boundaries. As they are my direct supervisor and only coworker, I put up with a lot of yucky behavior to try and keep a peaceful work environment.
So tonight, Sunday, at 4:30 my boyfriend and I are sitting on our front deck when a car pulls up in front of our house. Out pops L, who struts up to us on our deck and starts ranting about an annoying work message she got. It was a small inconvenience, has nothing at all to do with me, and is not something that would barely warrant a text. L then led a monolouge about their weekend before leaving. All together they were at my house for less than 10 minutes, and my boyfriend and I said hardly anything in that time, but just stared at her in disbelief.
My job pays a very low salary (rip);and I end up working a lot outside my 'regular' hours because of events, meetings, and other things. L causes me a lot of stress from their regular inappropriate behavior, but showing up to my home is so blatantly rude that I'm still feeling shocked. I feel this is the final straw of what I will put up with.
I am already applying for new jobs because working with L is a nightmare and because this job pays a very low salary. I was hired as a social media intern, but now do social media, events, member relations, work as a tourism representative, and so much more, and I never received an increase in pay. My hours worked, responsibilities, and stress have all gone up and I have repeatedly asked for better compensation from L and from our board of directors, with no luck
I want to sit L down tomorrow and outline that what they did is inappropriate. I am also going to stand up for myself about all the overtime I work and my unfair compensation. I am honestly really nervous about this because L is so unprofessional and I'm not sure how they'll react. I'd appreciate any advice you guys might have on handling this.
TLDR: My boss showed up at my house uninvited and unannounced on Sunday evening. What steps should I take to tell them that the behavior is inappropriate?

comment first

comment first

. This is why boomers shouldn't have cricuts

. This is why boomers shouldn't have cricuts