About the year 2007-2008, Bulgaria. We, among other things, were then engaged in the rental of apartments on the sea for rest. New complex, normal apartments, Bulgarian ridiculous prices.



A mother and her daughter aged 8-9 arrived at the settlement. And, it is believed, began to negotiate and lower the price. I stand on the terrace and she says:



Why on the floor and not laminate?

Why is the TV so diagonal?

Why a shower and not a bathroom?



And ends with a pathetic "- You know, I'm used to a bit different, it's not my level..." - and then it is interrupted by the daughter, who runs to us on the terrace and cries loudly:



Mommy Mommy! What a good apartment! We have never lived like that...

A friend calls me on Skype to complain about my fate. In general, on Skype, she only calls when she wants people to see her sad face, as actively as possible to begin to regret her. Less than six months ago, she got married and went with her husband to Tver, and on August 25, she had a birthday, and she called me to complain about her husband, who doesn’t love her at all and so he doesn’t care about her, on her birthday he didn’t give her anything at all, not even a bad card.



After communicating with a friend, I called her husband, by the way, I introduced them to see if everything is as she says or not?



As it turned out, her husband, as a gift, paid her a loan for the car she took before meeting him. To pay her was still a little less than 500 thousand rubles, she took a taiota camri. So, the husband spent money to repay the loan of his beloved wife, which he saved for himself on a new car, in the end he is now a greedy fool who gave nothing to his wife on the day, because as she thinks, the gift must be material to keep in memory, and that he repayed her loan, it is his direct duty as a husband.

Girls with an assy waist, as a rule, also have a pool in the set.

I started working as a technical translator. A design bureau at a large factory, a newly created department, a bunch of articles from foreign journals and mountains of technical documentation - all this had to be disassembled and translated. In short, they really needed a translator.

I went to work at a very bad time. Something there did not go well with them - whether the plan burned, whether the commission was waiting, whether the new technology was mastered, but it was clearly not before me. For a few days no one paid attention to me. The working day is long. Plus a lunch break. You can't go anywhere - a passage. Reading a book or hanging socks there is uncomfortable, I sit in sight of everyone. There is nothing to do desperately.

On the fourth day of such a life, I was completely overwhelmed and decided to take the matter into my own hands. I snorted into the office to the head of the department and asked to give me at least some work, so that I’t go crazy from the mess.

The tortured boss was hard to get rid of the chest of some papers and drawings, he looked at me completely missing and tried to figure out who I was and what I needed from him. When he failed to do that, he whispered, "Go..." and thought so long that I had time to finish the phrase mentally and even red, "... go... and work on yourself."

The best advice in my life.

I have three wonderful children, a wonderful husband, a cozy apartment, a beautiful city and elegantly selected antidepressants.

For a long time, they flew to the military unit in the city of Mozdok in pieces and lived in a barracks, allocating us a separate floor on the floor of 10-15 cubics (a cubic is like a two-room apartment with a separate toilet and shower, but without a kitchen). In one cube, 6-8 people lived, depending on the size of the rooms. In this trip I flew the last, my fellow servants lived there for about two months and complained about the conditions that a full shit and pork. Arriving in the city, he went to be placed in a cubicle, took a free bed, went to the toilet for reconnaissance, and there:

The walls in mold, on the floor some rotten boards, huge meadows due to the substrate of the tank, smoke, cloth and smell. As the saying goes, “It is not a shame to clean the dirt, it is a shame to live in the dirt.” Armed with gloves powder, chlorine cloth and whitening. He took out all the garbage, repaired the container, washed the walls from mold and cigarette smoke, repaired the spinning machine and pulled the door that didn’t close. The fellow servants only had time to hang out, before their arrival I immediately proclaimed the rules: We live here for a couple of months, we clean up after a day in the whole cube in turn for a person coming out once a week. Living in cleanliness is more pleasant than living in a pig farm.

And what do you think? Everybody is embarrassed?

No, from the sergeant to the major, those who lived in the cubicle cleaned andined cleanliness. No one had a western, the guests who came to us in the cube were surprised by the cleanliness and asked for powder and attributes in debt. With such a personal example, he once again proved to himself that "the destruction is not in the clowns, but in the heads."