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Cake day: October 16th, 2023

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  • In a short story, the monkey’s paw is an artifact that grants three wishes of the person who holds it, albeit in the worst way possible.

    The story goes that a pensioner and his wife receive the paw from some guy who warns them that the paw twists the wishes, but they pay the warning no mind and wish for a sum of money. A finger on the paw curls, and a factory foreman shows up with the money explaining that their son has died of a horrific mutilating accident in the factory. The insurance policy pays the money out to the surviving members of the family.

    The wife wishes that their son were alive again, another finger curls, and a few hours later they hear another knock at the door. The wife rushes to welcome their son, however, recalling the stranger’s warning and imagining how terrifying the mutilated body of their son might look, the father uses the last finger to wish the son dead and buried again. Incidentally, there doesn’t appear to be a negative on that wish apart from the horror that’s already been visited on them.





  • Funnily enough, I do feel like an adult, mostly because I’ve been aware enough for long enough that everyone else is making it up as they go, that I can sense when people are on their bullshit and navigate it pretty effectively.

    Also I’m making a lot of decisions that will hopefully insulate me from the consequences of my inevitable failure, but I hold no delusions that the safety net will ever be perfect or even good, or that some arbitrary amount of austerity would have bought me a house at this point, so I don’t starve myself of the little pleasures in the moment - today is the rainy day. I use my PTO, I get a little treat every once in a while, and I make myself as comfortable as I can. My life satisfaction has increased drastically with that in mind.