Jobs in tellico plains tn

His finishing isn't that good, so he isn't fit for striker, his scoring numbers are bad for a striker anyway. He hasn't had a single contribution (0 G&A) in his last 9 EPL games.
Some might argue he's an elite playmaker. Idk much about his playmaking skills and we all know Chelsea were very bad this season, but he has 1 assist in 47 games. That's incredibly bad for a guy who is supposed to be a playmaker, even for a midtable team. Let's say that Chelsea suck this year and it's not his fault. 18/19 was the season the world got to know him, he had 7 assists in all competitions, next season he had 9 with Leverkusen. Another Bundesliga hyped guy in the same period, Luka Jovic, had also 7 assists in 18/19 and he is not even a playmaker. Kolo Muani has 17 assists this season and he is a much better finisher. Another Leverkusen product with similar role to Havertz, Wirtz had 14 assists last season and missed many games of it because of injury.
I know that assists aren't always the best way to measure one's playmaking skills, but Havertz isn't a CM like Kroos or Modric, his main job is to be involved in creating goalscoring opportunities. Isn't that why we need him?
He isn't incredibly quick or a fantastic one-on-one dribbler to be a winger. I won't even compare him to the likes of Vinicius or Dembele on that, but even "worse" options like Chukwueze, Kubo, maybe even Brahim are better than him on that department. Asensio wasn't good on those aspects either, but at least his long shots were legendary and also he was a good finisher and somehow decent playmaker.
Others might argue he is a big game player. Apart from the 2021 final goal (wasn't the MOTM anyway), which are his big games? In UCL he scored once against us last season, scored a penalty against Dortmund this season in the UCL, after he missed it and had to retake it because of VAR. On 2020/21, when Chelsea were actually good and even won the competition, his only goal contribution in the KO stages was the final goal, he was benched in two of the knockout games as well. He had a very good performance as a sub against Costa Rica in the WC and scored 2. In EPL, he hasn't scored a single goal against Manchester United, Manchester City, Arsenal and Spurs in 3 years. He has only scored one goal against Liverpool. Is that what's called a big game player nowadays? Vinicius has 7 G&A against Liverpool and he doesn't even play in England.
And if we admit that he isn't indeed as good, then why are we going to pay huge money for him? I woudn't mind him as a free agent or very cheap transfer, but now he looks both like a downgrade to Asensio and a very expensive one. I know everyone in our club likes him based on the recent reports, but I just don't see what's so special about him based on his stats, performances, preferred position/role and price.

Here's what I have:
I am a graduate student in nursing setting up to make 28+ an hour (currently making 20$/ hr for 24 hr per week right now)

1. I have 6k in student loans
   
2. I have 5k in credit card debt
   
3. 600$ left in car debt
   
4. No savings
   
5. some 401k from my job. (idk how much)
   
6. No emergency fund (but I am planning on starting one)
   

I wanna start increasing my income, lowering my expenses, start on some assets (idk how to start how to make my money work on their own), and lowering my liabilities.
Short term goal:
- learning how to manage my money (currently reading: rich dad poor dad, 12 pillars to success, and philosophy of money)
- start on investing (idk where to start and where to invest)
- understanding how taxes work and how to lower it
Long term goal: probably in 20+ years which I would be 45 years old
- My assets will cover half of my expenses or cover all
Any tips on where or how to start on my plan? (my circle of people do not have knowledge nor experience when it comes to managing money, so I went here to ask you all).

I'm seeing a trend that I really don't like in BJJ. I'm noticing that the top coaches aren't helping their athletes develop as humble people.
I'm a kids coach and a former public school teacher. I always saw it as my job to coach kids not just in knowledge of the content, but also in how to carry themselves responsibly.
I keep seeing these posts from Gordon that tell me no one is managing him. He's tone deaf about his own appearance to the community and his coach isn't helping him. Then we've got Meragali bitching about rules and flipping people off during competition. Again... isn't someone supposed to hold "Mr. Meragali" to a higher standard?
I say all that to ask this: what role should a professional coach play in helping their athletes grow as people? Is a coach that doesn't control his team really in the running for 'greatest coach of all time? I'm pointing out that technical knowledge and mentorship are two different things a coach can bring to the table.
I'm concerned that the top names of our sport are becoming braggodocious heels and I notice a particular... wave... of this attitude developing in Austin. Maybe thats the strategy... maybe reigning in the douchery sniffles the talent, idk.
I'm not saying Danaher and others should filter their athletes posts... but shouldn't they be filtering the minds if their pupils on the regular so they don't carry themselves like whiney losers in the public eye?

I hope this is the right place and someone can tell me what may have been going on in my village. I moved here a few weeks ago. It's a small village in the heart of Russia and my parents and I came here because things start to get really bad in Moscow and my father lost his job. I don't know why we had to move to this isolated village, so far away from civilization. Maybe my parents wanted peace and quiet? To escape the things in that city, the poisoned minds?
The houses here had all been far below average in price. Almost everyone who lives here has moved here recently.
But, there are crazy rumors about this village that people tell each other. It was found abandoned in the mid-nineties. Where everyone went, no one knows. They say that no signs of people were found at all, nothing. But... everywhere in and around the village… strange patches of earth had been discovered, circular and smooth. Not only in the forest or on the road, but also in the dilapidated wooden houses. At our new neighbors' house, one of the mysterious spots had supposedly been found right in the living room floor, where the floorboards had been just cut away.
These rumors scare me. I am afraid of this village. But yesterday... I was redoing the floor in my room with my father and there... I found a notebook under the old boards. I hid it from my father, I don't know why... Someone must have left it there.
Last night... that's when I read it. I read it and now I'm incredibly afraid of this house and this village. Of the fields and the woods that surround me. The notebook apparently belonged to someone called Ilya Vasiliev. I have tried to translate what he wrote, hoping that someone here can help me find an explanation for the rumors. For this uneasy feeling that I have since I moved here...
***********
I am fine. I want that to be clear from the beginning. My story is strange and in huge parts troubling, but I am still in the best state of mental health.
I am fine!
My story begins seven months ago, in December 1979, when deep winter was upon our village. We were preparing for Christmas, the first Christmas to be celebrated publicly throughout the village, after years of having to practice our faith in secret because the Soviet government did not allow religions. Only in the last few years did the Reds' view loosen and they allowed small islands of faith. One of them was my village, which finally dared to celebrate and praise the Lord.
I have been a believer all twenty years of my life, an exemplary Christian, just like my parents. Faith had kept our family line alive in times of terror and misery. Death had always been close to us, as the fields where most of the population of our village had worked for generations had once brought the end of hundreds of people. Many years ago, on those fields, atrocities had occurred that had finally given them their present name: The Fields of Death.
I myself had not been born back then, not by a long shot, but my grandparents had spent their childhood there, a childhood full of hunger and depravity. My grandfather Fomenko often told me and my sister the stories he had experienced and how faith had saved everyone. There had been a long, cold winter and the grain had been confiscated by the government to be taken to the cities for distribution. After all, the grain belonged to all the people, not just those on the farms who planted it, tended to it, and harvested it. And so, the only food of that time left my grandfather's village and never came back. Some of his neighbors had once tried to hold back some grain, to hide some sacks, but when they were caught, a hail of bullets determined their fate. People lived in fear, not daring to stop working, not daring to keep for themselves the food that was destined for the common good. In those days, horrors happened in my village that I cannot truly picture today, not even when I hear my grandfather's usually clear voice begin to tremble. When I see in his eyes that he would rather forget, in order to experience a peaceful sleep once again… someday.
He told us about those horrors to warn us of how quickly life can plunge from safety into infinite terror. Winter had reigned. The grain was being hauled away. They still shot all those who tried to keep back pieces of it, be it a sack or some husks that had fallen from a cart. In time, hunger began to drive people in our village insane. Parents locked up their children so they wouldn't be taken by neighbors to feed their hunger. Friends turned their backs on each other and killed each other in fights for the last livestock that was still breathing. The streets reeked of decay and death, of misery and suffering. One day, my grandfather told us, he had hidden in the back room of his house while his parents dragged themselves, emaciated, to the fields to pick the last scraps of grain from the furrows with their dirty, half-frozen fingers. He had come across a book there, a book that had saved his life.
The word of God. An old Bible.
My grandfather had learned to read at an early age, one of the sad advantages of living in the Soviet Union.
It was in the room I now live in that Grandfather Fomenko had found the dusty book. Actually, he had been looking for something to eat, the days before he had found some sawdust. But despite his hunger and the grumbling in his stomach, eating the book was out of the question. Books were sacred, and no book as sacred as this one. He had begun to read and learned about the greatness of the Lord. Of the miracles his Son had performed. And of the magic of faith. His stomach had growled, but he had ignored it. The words gave him comfort.
The next day he immersed himself in the book again, disappearing into better worlds and times, hearing wisdom and encouragement. But around noon there was a knock at the door. My grandfather emphasized each time that he had not been afraid, that he had known that the Lord would protect him, when the old neighbor gained entrance to our house armed with a cleaver. It was clear what he wanted: Meat. My grandfather told us each time about how the neighbor had looked more undead than human, stinking and with sunken eyes, smelling like death from his mouth, the cleaver trembling in his hand.
"I'm sorry, boy," was all the man could get out.
My grandfather tried to mimic this poor man’s voice at the end of his wits, to express his pain through words so that we understood that poor fellow a little.
The Lord's words had given courage to my grandfather in his most terrible moments. He had stood up and firmly said:
"Away with you, the Lord protects the inhabitants of this house!"
But the intruder did not care, coming closer. And so, my grandfather again sought comfort and prayed. He prayed for mercy and peace and for his life. He would serve the Lord for the rest of his days. Trust Him blindly.
Suddenly, like a gruesome miracle, the famished intruder let out an inhuman groan and collapsed, lifeless and debilitated. There had been no hunger for my grandfather and his family for a week after that. My grandfather had been praying to the Lord since that day, thanking Him for His mercy. The story spread around the village and out of desperation or hope, in the next few days everyone secretly knelt in front of small wooden crosses they had made themselves and prayed to the Lord. A week later, like a miracle, the long-awaited delivery of grain arrived, along with spring. There had not been another bad time since then.
These events are the reason for the faith in our village... and our family. The psalm my grandfather had prayed as the hungry neighbor attacked had become the guiding psalm of our faith. All these years we had not been able to celebrate Christmas with the other families, but since the restrictions on faith communities had been relaxed, we had all finally decided to celebrate the holy festival in the village square. And so, we started the preparations.
There, in those evening hours, my part of the story begins. I and my younger sister Zarina, together with other youths and young adults, were fetching wood for the fire that was to burn in the center of our village. So, we went out into the night, dressed with thick pelts, to fetch logs from the edge of the fields that some men had prepared.
My breath could be seen as an icy breeze in the dawning darkness and I was already looking forward to dancing around the fire with everyone later, drinking good drinks and eating sumptuously. I was glad that we didn't have to walk across the fields themselves, but could stroll along their edge to get the logs.
You can feel death when it has hit a place. I was glad that I didn't have to work the fields myself, and had learned the carpentry trade. Therefore, I was spared from having to wander around there every day, among the echoes of past atrocities and sadness.
We were all in good spirits, strolling over the muddy ground, when all at once Zarina pointed up and into the clear night sky.
"Look, an angel is descending!" she exclaimed excitedly.
We all looked to where her outstretched hand pointed. A round light glowed in the night sky, glaring yellowish and shining strangely cold.
"It's singing! At Christmas! The Lord puts our feast under his sign!" Zarina cried.
We stopped and listened into the silence of the night. At first, I could hear nothing, at first, everything remained quiet, and only the distant beating of axes and the rustling of the wind in the treetops were audible.
But then, there in the wind, I could hear it, briefly but clearly. It was a kind of melodic whisper, joyful, yet also strange and otherworldly. It was heard only very briefly, and soon died away as the glow flew out of sight and disappeared somewhere far away.
"Let's go find the angel! Let's..." Zarina cried, continuing excitedly, but I interrupted her.
"We have to get the wood. We can report back to the village later, if it hasn't already been noticed there too," I said.
"You heard the singing! Surely that was an angel. Shall we leave it there? It may have gotten hurt, it must have hit something!" Sasha murmured.
Sasha was my oldest friend and one of the boys who worked on the fields. He had always been very caring and had always tried to help where he could. His parents were long dead and the old lady who had raised him was no longer around, either. So, he struggled along, working the fields, but the rest of us looked out for him.
"Shouldn't we go and look for it, Ilya?", Sasha continued to urge me anxiously.
We thought about it for a long time but decided to leave the decision to the others in the village. Trusting the Lord to guide our actions, we quickly moved on in the direction of the woodcutters to complete our task.
We were not the only ones who had seen the glow. When we returned to the village square loaded with logs, everyone was in great excitement and full of joy that the Lord had sent us this sign of His greatness. Not everyone agreed whether it was an angel or a return of the poinsettia that had been witnessed, but everyone was sure that the Lord had sent us encouragement. So, we celebrated our first Christmas full of joy and pleasure, with good food, dancing and singing, full of happiness and under the protection of the Almighty Lord. I will always think back to those days, always keep in my heart how I glimpsed a part of the Lord in the sky.
We all talked about the event and even the older people were fascinated and inspired. Even my grandfather and the others who had witnessed the worst death and misery in the world seemed to slowly find a spiritual peace they would never have dreamed of otherwise. They were happy and strengthened in their faith. However, we were not sure if it had really been an angel who had come down and so we hesitated to go and look for the creature of God.
But in the night, after the light had shone in the sky, I was awakened by Zarina crying in her sleep. I straightened up and slowly paced over to her bed, where in the semi-darkness she began to squirm, shaken by spasms.
"No, no, no..." she moaned painfully.
I began to shake her to wake her up. Zarina did not respond to me. Her face was like a distorted mask hiding something bad underneath. Her breathing became shallow, and she began to whimper. I was terrified and began to pray. The Lord had to save her, He just had to save her!
Zarina twitched more and more, started coughing and whimpering louder and louder. Slowly, the rest of the family woke up and my parents and grandfather huddled tightly around her, praying for her to open her eyes.
"Please, don't take our child! She has only been in your world for fourteen years..." my father cried, as panicked and desperate as I had ever seen before.
His thick, black mustache trembled with fear.
Then, abruptly, Zarina stopped convulsing.
For a terrible moment she just lay there, her hair disheveled, her face pale in the glow of the candle my mother held over her.
"Mom, Dad, Ilya, Grandpa... what's wrong?" she suddenly asked sleepily.
For a moment it was as if nothing had happened, as if I hadn't just seen my sister almost die, but then she began to cry.
"What's wrong, dear?" my father asked, just as pale in the face as Zarina.
It took a while before she found some calm and was able to talk to us.
Finally, she croaked:
"I saw the angel. I was with him."
A revelation? Had the Lord touched my sister?
We all said another prayer and finally, filled with awe, I asked:
"Where did you see the angel? Is it here? With us?"
She looked at me briefly, seemed to hesitate for a little moment, and then reported:
"I was with it… in a dream. It was in a white village, a village made of angel dust. I saw it. It didn't have wings and that's why at first I wasn't sure if it was an angel. However, soon it spoke to me."
"What did it say, Zarina?", I asked tensely.
"It said it was not God, but 'the Witness'. It sounded like a man and a woman and a child and a baby and... It felt peaceful. Calm and carefree. Then I woke up."
"An angel. Angels are the witnesses of God, that's how it must be!" my father said enthusiastically.
Suddenly, everyone seemed to be talking at once.
No one knew what Zarina's words meant, but we were sure that they contained something incomprehensible that we, as ordinary people, could not understand. But everyone was delighted. Everyone was caught in a beautiful dream.
The next day, the adults sat together in the large barn near the edge of the village, which was used for community events. Most of them found seats on the lined up wooden benches and the rest stood crowded against the old walls, some of which were already rotten. Dimitri, probably the closest thing to a mayor, sat at a heavy pine table at the end of the room, staring at the crowd, while my parents and Zarina sat on old chairs in front of him. Tensely, the crowd looked at them, waiting for someone to say something. Finally, Dimitri cleared his throat thoughtfully.
"You... all saw or heard about the falling star. It was brighter than the others that keep crossing our sky and much more... melodic. Some even heard the singing. Whoever still doubted that the Lord sent us his messenger... doubts are now useless. Zarina has received a vision. She has seen how the angel, who was sent by God, walked on our earth, and visited a village and consecrated it with its grace. She has seen the angel marching to spread holiness in these lands..."
"Are we sure?"
Mary, the dressmaker, had stood up. She was still young, my age and Sasha's, and she always wore her blond hair carefully braided, her dresses self-made, blood red and flashy, with silver embroidery. As always, she wore makeup - a luxury not many could afford. In other places she would have been considered a lady, but she was also a skeptical person, and I had not liked her very much since childhood, because she often made insinuations that seemed to go against the Lord. Also, she had never played with us outside and had always thought of herself as someone… better. I was shocked that she now so obviously doubted the Lord's actions.
"Mary. Zarina has seen a vision. The Lord spoke to her through her dreams! An angel has joined us. How can you deny it?" my father asked coldly.
"I'm not denying it, I'm just saying, what if there is something dark that the angel was sent to fight? What if it is going into battle against some unknown evil? The angel may be spreading sanctities, but we have no idea if it is trying to redeem us or defend us..."
"It said it was a witness of God," I noted.
"That's what Zarina said when she woke up."
"Then it is benevolent to us! We must find it!" someone shouted from one of the back rows.
An excited murmur began to spread through the room.
"Silence!" Dimitri thundered.
His face looked hard but determined.
"We have to get to it! If it is a message from heaven that the angel wants to bring us, we must hear it! How many can we spare? Who would even want to voluntarily leave the village? We don't know how long the journey will be, and you yourselves know how dangerous this area can be..."
A loud commotion broke out. Everyone shouted at once and volunteered. I also jumped up and loudly offered to go out to look for it.
The angel. The Witness of the Lord.
I imagined meeting it in a clearing, under a full moon. Hearing its bright voice, gaze in awe at its graceful form, and fall to my knees in prayer before it.
"SILENCE!" Dimitri shouted.
"You can't all go. The kids wouldn't make it in the deadly cold out there. Let seven go. Seven is the Lord's number, there must be seven! Seven workers from the fields! We can't spare any more!"
"You can't be serious!" I cried out.
Cold anger boiled up inside me.
"I want to go, too. We all want to. You can't just stand there and make a decision like that!"
Others joined in.
"SILENCE," Alexeij now thundered, the master blacksmith.
"We need you! Daniil, Ilya, Nikita, you have a job to do! We can't get by without you! You can't go, be reasonable!"
"But if the Lord wills it, he will make sure that everything here will work out. That nothing will happen!", I tried to argue, still boiling with anger.
"No. Winter is tugging at our huts, we need you," my father said slowly.
"So do the others. Without you, it's going to be tight. The fields lie under the snow, but everything else will be weakened by time and storms. We can only spare the field hands. Besides, they're the ones most likely to withstand the cold and the wilderness; after all, they're constantly out on the Fields of Death, toiling in the wind and rain. They'll all make the trip!"
I tried to change his mind, and several came to my aid, all those who were also forced to stay.
"You can manage without a dressmaker! I want to go too!" Mary cried defiantly, her cheeks red with anger, her nose wrinkled.
This young woman really believed she deserved the sight of the angel! She really believed her hypocrisies would deceive the Lord, despite her obvious doubts about His divinity!
Others also complained, young and old, many who didn't deserve to go and even those who did.
But it didn't help.
Dimitri was in charge. Everyone knew that. If we started to contradict him, our village would soon end up in chaos. And deep down I knew that I had to stay. That I had to take care of my sister, who would not survive a trip in the snow. That I had to repair the huts that the storms would eat away at.
Sasha was a field worker, he was allowed to go. Sasha and Sofia, Anatoly and old Igor, Ivan and Yulia and Mikhail. When the decision was made, a decision many of us accepted only with heavy hearts and which brought out deep envy in several faces, some of the chosen ones began to cry. They were happy, fulfilled... satisfied. They would see the messenger of the Lord, hear its melodious voice, sing its hymns.
Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why was the world so unfair? I had always believed in the Lord, prayed to Him, been subject to Him and lived according to His will. Why hadn't he chosen me to see his messenger? I had been so proud back when I had been allowed to learn the carpenter's trade and thus had not to go to the Fields of Death to toil there. At that time, I had felt like someone better when I saw Sasha and Sofia setting out early in the morning with all the other workers, with their old-fashioned plows and thick, shabby clothes.
Was this the punishment for my arrogance?
The Lord knew everything. He had seen what repulsive thoughts I had had, how superior I had felt to the others. Perhaps it was my punishment that I was not allowed to go. Perhaps the Lord was no longer favorable to me and I would have to prove myself to Him.
The next day, the seven set out north. They were seen off with singing and dancing; they were the center of the village’s attention. Envy threatened to drown me.
Why not me? Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why did I have to stay here?
And I knew: it was because of these thoughts. I wasn't pure enough. I had to get better, work on myself.
As the others disappeared from sight, as the small group seemed to be swallowed up by a patch of forest between distant trees, an icy chill ran down my spine.
What if they really did encounter evil? What if Mary had been right?
I prayed to the Lord that they would return home safely: Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
He would bring them home safely, our pilgrims. I did not begrudge them their happiness. I was not a selfish person, was not complacent like Mary or some others in the village. I lived by the word of the Lord and I would not begrudge them.
They would all return home safely.
I continued to stare into the distance for a long time as my suppressed envy sought to consume me. But I was winning.
For darkness is as light to you.
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Even though the days and weeks passed, I never forgot to think of all those who had set out to witness the glory of the Lord. The cold winter had passed and frost and cold left the land, so that soon we could begin to prepare the fields for sowing. Since the sighting of the angel had caused us to let some of the farm workers leave, and they stayed away longer than we had expected, I had to join others in helping to plow the Fields of Death. The work was exhausting and made me physically very tired, since I still had to work in the carpenter's shop as well. We could not afford tractors, so we still had to resort to older tools. So, it happened that one day I was driving one of the hand plows through the dirty ground and was lost in my thoughts and full of sweat.
I was quite far away from the village, as the nearby surroundings had been worked shortly after the beginning of the thaw. The fields were extensive, partly reaching further than the eye could see. Only in one direction the dense forest extended, which introduced the beginning of a dark hilly landscape, that finally merged northward into high, alien mountains, whose white peaks rose high into the sky and, like once the tower of Babel, blasphemously tried to penetrate the heavens. But next to these distant giants there was only the plain, the vast plain that had to be tilled.
I hated the field work. And I hated the fields.
Every time I even thought about this piece of hell that had become reality long ago, my stomach turned. All the events that clung to this dark place, all the human lives and suffering that had sown the ground with death and blood here many years ago....
It was even worse when you stood in the fields yourself, truly being there on your own. It was as if I could smell it in the air, the rot of the starving and the hot blood that had watered the soil. It was as if I could still hear in the air the cries and wailing of the people who had met their end here, who had pleaded for their lives and the lives of their children and friends. It was as if I could see them in the early morning fog banks that lay on the Fields of Death, the shadows of people past, crawling and cowering, weak and starved. I had to pull myself together and look away, into the forest. A place does not forget, a place always remembers the days gone by and the cries that had been.
The plow pulled through the ground, ripping a furrow behind it. It was almost a bit comforting to imagine I was gutting this place of horror with my labor, inflicting deep wounds. Hypnotized, I stared down over and over again, watching the ground swirl to one side, smelling the fresh earth being pushed to the surface. But never could I escape my terrible feelings and the forebodings, never could I forget what kind of place I was at.
The few times I looked to the forest beside me, my thoughts wandered enviously to all those who had set out to find the angel. Had they reached it yet? Had they already learned from it what needed to be done for God's power on earth to be strengthened so that false prophets and promises could be swept away? How to drown the selfishness of the state? What needed to be done to serve the Lord?
Oh, how I would have loved to be there! How I would have loved to go with them, but I also understood the decision not to send everyone, and I understood my family's objections. I was needed here. I could serve the Lord here by tilling the fields and taking care of the soil and the sowing. I had to care for my sister.
I had already made several furrows when noon came. The sun was almost not visible, just a murky spot behind the clouds, and the fog had not lifted either. The world looked pale and apathetic. But amongst all the desolation I could suddenly hear something, something that seemed to come out of the forest.
It was at first just like a rustling in the wind that sounded a bit too regular, such that it triggered a natural uneasiness in me. I looked into the forest, but could hardly make out anything through the dense plants and the still lingering fog. That is why it was left to my own thoughts to imagine what was there, what was producing this strange noise.
I could not remember any animal that made similar sounds, was at a loss.
Suddenly, a bang echoed through the forest, accompanied by a panicked scream that broke inhumanly from the trees and spread across the fields.
Then, something new joined the sounds in the air.
The trees and bushes rustled, almost seemed to be torn apart.
Something was running through the forest, something seemed to be... coming right at me.
Was it perhaps a startled bear, an elk, or a wild boar?
Had one of the hunters from the village accidentally startled an animal, scared it in the wrong direction and now wanted to warn us with their cry? But then, why this panicked sound...?
I paused, took my hands off the rusty handles of the plow, and turned toward the forest. Still, I could only see fog, I could only hear rustling, but slowly I could also make out grunts and groans coming to me from the fog. It sounded heavy and panic-stricken.
Was I in danger? I began to pray to the Lord and ask him for assistance. I was not a fighter and so I had to hope that nothing would reach me from the depths between the trees that could easily tear me apart.
Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
My baptismal motto gave me courage. The Lord saw me, even in my darkness, and would be with me.
For darkness is as light to you.
Then, someone burst out of the bushes and the fog and rushed toward me.
It was Sasha.
I almost didn't recognize him. His skin was pale, almost snow-white. His black hair stuck to his sweaty face. His pants and jacket were almost completely torn, so I could see his dirty shirt and his cut and bruised legs through the holes. There were also some small cuts on his face that worried me. Sasha's eyes twitched searchingly, panicked, and in his hand, he held the rifle that he had taken with him when he had once set out. Apparently, he had run through brush and thorns, had gotten scrapes and wounds from stones and branches.
When he saw me and looked at me with his big, panic-filled eyes, I became horridly afraid.
It was as if… behind his eyes there was no Sasha anymore, but only an animal. As if instinct had taken over his thoughts when an unnamable terror had entered his world. An animal inside him, which had enabled him to escape from... something.
Sasha staggered out of the forest, it was almost as if all strength left him now that he was back home. The rifle fell from his hand and dug into the mud beneath his feet. He limped slowly toward me, not taking his eyes off me. Then, suddenly, he wheeled around and looked back into the forest and the mist.
Only for a moment.
Again, he let out a shrill scream and sprinted the last few meters. When I looked into the forest myself, I saw nothing, only the fog.
But, didn't I feel a presence there, in the bushes? Between the trees?
I didn't see anything.
Sasha had reached me and collapsed. I quickly knelt down next to him and called for help. But the other field workers had already rushed over, obviously attracted by the rifle shot. I was in a trance, seeing only Sasha lying there, supporting his head. His eyes were still twitching around and despite my proximity he didn't seem to recognize me. He looked at me, confused.
"Sasha, what happened?", I asked, feeling his forehead.
Despite his paleness, he was uncomfortably hot.
A fever raged in his body. Who knew how long he had been running around there among the trees, his protective, warming jacket torn? With wounds that had not been tended and some of which were still bleeding?
Then another horrible thought occurred to me.
"Sasha, where are the others? Sasha, where are the others?"
This question apparently brought back some clarity that his gaze had not possessed before.
"They... they took them. Took all of them... All of them. All our brothers, all our sisters... all of them," he gurgled.
*********
So, this is the first part of what I found. I will hurry to translate the rest! But I will definitely stay out of the woods for now... They are still as creepy as described by Ilya in this document and fog ist still around every morning... Also, I don't know what to make of Ilya himself as well, is he just a religious nut and that is the explanation? I just don't know...

My parents have to sell their house that they built only a year ago. Our family never had a lot of money, but we have never been in so much trouble as what we are currently in. We have no idea where we will be next week, let alone next month. Life has never been this difficult for us, and yesterday was the first time in my life that I considered the unthinkable.
​
Trying to stay positive but life is really throwing us all the difficult situations that it can. All my motivation has gone out the door and depression has taken me over. Just needed to get it off my chest, thanks for reading.

Hi all,
I have got around 350 items that I need data collected for.
Job Description:
Multistep data entry.
There is a website that I need information from alongside images saving.
Your job will be to input key information into a Google Sheets document and save images.
There is minimal editing required to the images, so please keep in mind that a mouse is completely neccessary (trackpad will not do the job).
You will be paid $0.17 for every input that you make and are expected to make a minimum of 50 inputs.
Immediate start.
Payment will only be made through PayPal or UPI - I will pay the fees for transfer.

I've recently re-watched this film after like maybe 15 years... It hit me pretty bad, much worse than when I was a kid - probably because I understand the message much better now and the whole social/psychological context around it. It was a much easier watch when I was a child though!
The main thing that bothers me - and I'm sure I'm not alone - is that I don't understand why the Ed-Kim relationship cannot continue in some form. There are so many different ways in which I could have worked out (with obvious obstacles) and I think that's probably why the ending leaves most of us pretty unsatisfied.

1. They could be meeting in secret - yes, it would have been risky and what not, but it was certainly possible for Kim to do it unnoticed, say, at night. It didn't even have to be particularly regular.
2. Presumably at some point the people who hated Edward passed away or were to ill / old to do anything - so that would have been the perfect opportunity to get him back there again, or at least for her to start visiting again.
3. She could have got him out of town to a doctosomeone trusted who could have helped him - he didn't need to stay there.
4. I realise that practically, their relationship would have been pretty difficult. It would all need to be kept in secret etc and I guess she would probably want to go to uni/get a job/move out at some point. A few options would have been possible: a) go to uni, keep meeting in secret, get him out once you're settled somewhere, b) take him with you, presumably whilst living with friends, c) don't go to uni, settle somewhere else and take him with you. He was ultimately capable of making some money with his scissors, and even without them, I imagine he could be re-socialised or get a job somewhere.

So ultimately, it strikes me that rather than the story being about them being forced to stay apart, they actually both decided it wasn't worth it/didn't make sense, and that it was better for them to continue living apart. That includes Edward who I suppose could have come down again at some point and was the first to say 'goodbye' to Kim. It's a slightly different take to the usual interpretation of them somehow being forced to separate, and it looks more like a conscious choice for both of them.
Anyway, the ending is pure agony so I thought I'd jot down a few things if anyone has similar thoughts...

I am currently at a crossroads in my career and I want to get into another field. I think I might go back to college to get a Regents BA as I already have an Associates in Arts.
That said, I would like to go into IT or something similar but I really do not know much about the field. Very simply put, I love data, organizing data & just doing stuff with it. I ran SharePoint for my department which operated solely from it through the uses of lists, libraries, workflows, customized forms (InfoPath), etc. I have no formal training of any sort but I have a decent working knowledge of computers & software.
What field can I go into that can utilize this experience? Should I worry about AI doing such jobs? Also, I have extensive customer service experience - maybe even a field that can use both strengths?

I got 3 gold restorations in my molars to replace old silver fillings. I opted for them because I was being shown how smooth the edges can be finished, it looked almost like gold paint. "You won´t feel the edge with a probe" they said.
When the fillings were in place, and roughly buffed over, the dentist left and the dental assistant started doing the fine finishing. I wasn´t really sure if this was right and asked for the dentist to come back and do it. She just went over them one time, no extra work on the seams and edges, and declared job done. It was kind of "if you want the grade A finish then assistant will do it, but doctor won´t". Cheaper hours maybe?
Anyway I would like to know if I was being too picky? Should I just have let the assistant do the finishing, is that part of your qualifications?

Hey y’all,
I’ve been browsing this sub for a while and have read about the impact your advice has had for people, so I was hoping that you can point me in the right direction as well. I’m transitioning out of the military in about a year and want to begin a career in IT, preferably GRC analysis but I am not sure what I should do to set myself up for success. I have two years of college and am working towards my bachelors. What certs or Training should I prioritize now so that I’m more competitive when applying for jobs? Thanks in advance for any input.

I work for a small construction company. I am responsible for creating a new gmail account for every new hire, but we can’t afford to make domain email addresses for everyone. So I make them a free gmail account. The issue I’m facing is that when you make a google account it asks you to verify with a real phone # but you can only use each phone # a certain # of times. I’ve used everyone’s phone # in the company and am now resorting to family member’s #s. It’s honestly so embarrassing and I’m trying to push the company to get on a cheap domain email host, but in the mean time please send me your recommendations for what I can use to get this done: 1. Need to be able to change phone # frequently and at any time 2. Need to be able to receive Google verification codes 3. It needs to be cheap, but it’s probably going on my personal cell so nothing scammy
I’ve tried: google voice (have maxed out #s and verification codes) and text now didnt work with verification codes.
Please help. This has become the most annoying and frustrating part of my job.

Hi all,
I bought a new build flat in August 2019 for £465k in England.
There were a number of snagging issues that I identified and reported within the statutory reporting period, some of these have been fixed to a good standard, some to a poor standard and some totally ignored.
I've continuously chased, with a paper trail since August 2019 regarding these outstanding issues, and I'm now at my wits end.
My specific query is how I assess the outstanding work. I understand I can have builder round to quote for work, but I don't want to waste their time to get 3 quotes and identify an average, plus some jobs are too small for one visit.
For clarity, some examples of outstanding work;

• Purchase and fitment of a control valve on the underfloor heating panel
• Remove timber decking and replace with non rusted timber (requires entire metal balcony to be removed with glass, big scaffolding job)
• 3 chips to be repaired on a quartz worktop, this will be on an improvement basis and not a full repair so compensation also for the damage
• Replace the skirting board that was repaired with a skirting that's actually the same colour as the rest

I thought to just submit a small claims court file for £10,000 as the decking alone will be approx £4k. Would I have a case without going out and seeking quotes to fix the work they've failed to?

Currently writing this as a 18yr old mtf and I got my Newcastle referral to their gender clinic I think? Like what do I do now will i just be left for five years and be made to socially transition even though I look the complete opposite of feminine and my parents are on the verge of kicking me out because of this I'm going through cousiling in my college but its not really doing anything for me. Is private that expensive I don't have a job atm due to how little I'm able to get out of bed most days I'm sorry for this rant to any people who read this but I don't know anyone who's going through this and no one to support me any advice would be amazing thank you :)

I posted yesterday but accidentally deleted my post while trying to add an edit. So I genuinely apologize to anyone who already responded. I can’t read your responses, sadly.
I’ll just provide the basics here. I am 27 weeks pregnant, first time mom. I have just been offered a really, really great job that would be a very good move in my career. However, I haven’t disclosed my pregnancy yet and now I feel stuck.
My plan (although, everyone I spoke to advised me against disclosing during the interview process) was to disclose during the “final” interview. Basically, I had two rounds of interviews but from what was explained to me, I thought I would have a final interview to discuss salary expectations and a few other things specific to the position. Rather, the person who I will be reporting to phoned me to let me know that they’ve decided to offer me the job and to look out for a contract from HR via email.
I could have brought it up then but I was genuinely caught off guard. He phoned me whereas I had expected the final stage to be over Zoom like everything else to that point. I wanted to speak to him about my situation face to face.
I haven’t signed the contract yet but it’s my understanding that even if I disclose my pregnancy prior to signing in order to give them an “out”, rescinding the offer based on pregnancy would be illegal. So I’ve already cornered them more or less which I didn’t want to do.
My original plan was to tell them, before they formally offered me the job, that I’m 27 weeks pregnant and although I will need to take a few weeks off completely, my husband and I have hired a nanny to come to our flat while I work from home (it’s a remote position) so I can return to work quite quickly (barring unforeseen complications). I wanted to tell them I don’t expect to paid for my time off during this period since I’ll be so new and I only ask for position preservation.
Basically, I wanted to give them a chance to go with someone else because they are hiring me during a very important time for the company and I feel guilty/like I’ll be letting down the team by being gone for a month so early on. I realize this is probably some internalized misogyny on my end. I don’t believe pregnant women should be discriminated against in any form during any point in their pregnancy when it comes to getting a job but I’m filled with guilt nonetheless. I don’t want to come across as deceitful.
So here’s my question. Should I arrange to speak with the person who I’ll be working directly under to tell him basically “before I sign the contract, I want to let you know I’m pregnant and this is my plan to make the process and transitions as painless as possible for the team. If you see this being a huge issue, I won’t sign the contract and you won’t hear from me.” Or do I sign the contract and mention I’m pregnant during onboarding while still brining up that I don’t intend to take full time off and I will make myself as available as possible… or do I do something else?
I don’t want the team to dislike me straight off for hiding the fact from them. On the other hand, I don’t intend to stay with a team who is nasty to me because I’m pregnant. I just want to do the best thing possible here for myself and for the company.
Thanks and sorry again if you’re reading this for the second time.

Saw some discussion earlier. And yeah, Greek Patheon probably got something plotted. And yes, Zeus should have died. It is just Adam is unexpectedly good that he has almost done the job that wasn't meant for him. I just remember how Brunhilde is surprised by the entry of Zeus in the 2nd round. We already know that Brunhilde sometime got the information about the God Fighter before each round. Like how she went to Leonidas and tell him about Apollo, or Poseidon, ....or Hades...
Yeah, Zeus switching turns with Shiva is unexpected. And I believe Brunhilde already prepare someone to beat Zeus, Possibly Nostradamus.

More specifically, what is it about finance that really draws you to it? I've seen people mention things like a high-pressure workplace or a need to socialise a lot, but these aren't really specific to finance and can be found elsewhere in other jobs.
Is there perhaps something inherent in finance that draws you to it? A core belief of how it can help the world or something?

I got 3 gold restorations in my molars to replace old silver fillings. I opted for them because I was being shown how smooth the edges can be finished, it looked almost like gold paint. "You won´t feel the edge with a probe" they said.
When the fillings were in place, and roughly buffed over, the dentist left and the dental assistant started doing the fine finishing. I wasn´t really sure if this was right and asked for the dentist to come back and do it. She just went over them one time, no extra work on the seams and edges, and declared job done. It was kind of "if you want the grade A finish then assistant will do it, but doctor won´t". Cheaper hours maybe?
Anyway I would like to know if I was being too picky? Should I just have let the assistant do the finishing, is that part of their qualifications?

I am an ex prison officer and just waiting for my in take date to start my training with Police Scotland. I hear a lot of negatives about the job but like the title says I'm curious about the upside of being a police officer?