Ugh, Discord
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Just, UGH.
Oliver, Wraysford and Stephen, over months and years.
(Or, five times Stephen was oblivious and one time he wasn't.)
I posted this on Tumblr but I figured I would post it here too. Because it bears repeating, especially in times like these.

EXACTLY. He gets it. Scott maybe wasn't clocking Shane/Ilya, but François Arnaud clocked the incestuous sibling relationship between homophobia and misogyny.
Too busy trying to extend their lifespans to, you know, actually Have A Life?
The troubling rise of longevity fixation syndrome: ‘I was crushed by the pressure I put on myself’
One is actually surprised that this guy does in fact go for an evening out in a restaurant with his husband, even if he does exhaustively research it first and pre-order (and then melt down when it comes to him RONG):
He painstakingly monitored what he ate (sometimes only organic, sometimes raw or unprocessed; calories painstakingly counted), his exercise regime (twice a day, seven days a week), and tracked every bodily function from his heart rate to his blood pressure, body fat and sleep “schedule”. He even monitored his glucose levels repeatedly throughout the day. “I was living by those numbers,” he says.
And, indeed, tempted to say, it just feels like living for ever....
With a side of, austere regimes have been followed by religious devotees for centuries but that was for life everlasting in the next, not this, right?
But, honestly, surely it is possible to lead a healthy life which is not actually purgatorial - see also this Why has food become another joyless way to self-optimise?. Thinking back to the delicious healthy nosh at Grayshott of beloved nostalgic memories - along with the lovely treatments etc.
Okay, there are some dietary things I do because I do not particularly have to think about them, but that is because I made certain decisions back when, and e.g. I have my nice tasty home-made muesli of a morning with its healthy oats and linseed and nuts and it is an established pattern but it is a pleasure to eat.
Milepost 164, by TwoWeevils. shrift: “Note to self: Next time Gibbs wants a volunteer to go on a nice country drive, keep your hands in your pockets, DiNozzo.”
Another 4 inches of snow? And high winds? And "arctic chill"? I cannot.
I am trying the applesauce loaf again, this time with some chunks of "Gold Rush" apples in the batter and making sure not to use lumpy brown sugar. Fingers crossed.
Amtrak's 2FA system is garbage and I may have to contend with Julie, my nemesis (Amtrak's phone customer "service" bot) to get to New York to see Dessa in March (and sneak out of a conference early); my splurge on Restaurant Week was kind of a waste of money (pasta oversalted, rosé weirdly bland); I am sick of all my clothes, no doubt because I have been wearing all of them at the same time for the past month, and the idea of acquiring different clothes is the epitome of exchanging money for bads and disservices.
THIS IS THE BAD PLACE.