In the mid 1990s. We are two brothers in the family. I am 7 years old, my brother is one year older. I am a well-known monkey in our courtyard – I have overtaken all the available lighting pillars, trees, roofs, basements. This time, on the third floor level, I was hanging on an apple tree branch with one hand, and the other hand was eating the same apples. From the entrance, the father goes out to do his business. Near the entrance is a standard picture of three babies on the bench, grinding fresh speeches.

Where does Dad look? ! to He hangs his boy. It will fall! It will break! The grandmother struck his father.

“And I have one more,” replied the father and went on with his business. The grandmothers were silent.

has grown up. not broken up. I have sports awards.

I met a girl at a party, so lucky that they woke up together. She ran out in the morning, being late somewhere, and I hastily ate breakfast and took a bath, remembering the night and looking at my scratched back in the mirror. I see her earrings on the table. Old and heavy. Grandmother, she said again. I put it in my pocket and went back.

The door was opened by a cute lady in a robe, on the face - my mom, I stretched her earrings and said:

Please send it to me, Julia.

She trembled, insecurely took her earrings in her hands, questioningly looked at her.

I forgot her accidentally yesterday.

And yesterday? ? to ? to

Well yes.

and pause.

The young man! Julia died six years ago.

I stuck with a pillar, painfully contemplating, but at that moment Julia ran away from somewhere, shouting indignantly:

and Mom! Stop being so dumb!

My mother jumped and invited me to drink coffee.

So I met my aunt.

I met my husband by chance. We were stuck in the elevator. We stayed in a closed room for almost an hour. Why we couldn’t get pulled out of the regular elevator for so long – I still don’t understand.

I didn’t want to go into the elevator because I’m afraid of elevators and small closed spaces. I am a claustrophob!

At the fifth minute I felt bad. The pulse was so high that every heartbeat was given in the ears. I became difficult to breathe. The chest, like forging fur, expanded and shrunk. It was very bad. The man laid his jacket on the floor and took me by the ankles and sat on the jacket. I told you what was the cause of a panic attack. He turned, got something and gave me two pills. I swallowed them. The man said it’s a very strong sedative and I’ll feel better in a few minutes.

It really made me easier. I kept sitting on the floor. He also sat next to him and began to speak with a calm voice. I don’t remember what it was about, but a quiet, smooth voice acted reassuringly on me.

We sat and talked. When the door of the elevator opened, I was already completely okay. A man invited me to a cafe. And already in the cafe asked what this was for such a strong sedative. I wanted to buy it in case the panic would happen again. He smiled and gave me a box of mint tick. Aha, I helped two mint candies!

Agree, Suvorovskoye School sounds better than Shoiguevskoye

On April 26, we will celebrate the 34th anniversary of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster. I worked there with robots to eliminate disasters, the first robotic installation was, it was a "crossover". When the helicopter overturned and crashed near the reactor, all the pilots died, after which, the electricians were instructed to develop an installation that could move through the reactor, a wire. The transfer was carried out by the military, with the help of missiles. If it is interesting, I will write about it in detail.
Now in more detail, I wanted to tell you about the following:
During the construction of the sarcophagus over the 4th block, the task was set to launch the third block of the nuclear power plant. The fourth exploding block was technically connected to the third block. It was necessary to cut all the pipes between the blocks and all the pipes of the 3rd block to roll onto themselves. The cutting of the pipes was also done by automated installations.
And then the problem arose - how to weld zirconium pipes in the presence of a large radioactive background? The welding of zirconium pipes is carried out in the following way - a constant current and a stream of inert argon gas is supplied to the needle of wolfram, an electric arc of 1.5-1,7 mm is lit, and this arc welds the zirconium pipes between them. The fight lasts two hours. I knew only two welders who, in narrow conditions, could produce such welding. One finger led on the seam, and the other hand supported the burner. The second welder did this with the help of a removable mirror. But the use of welders was immediately refused, as the welders took the dose within half an hour. Therefore, for welding the seam needed 4 welders. And the seams had to be welded within 2 thousand.
At first, an order for the development of a welded robot was submitted to the Paton Institute in Kiev, but it was said that they needed several years to develop.
Development was undertaken by PRP BAER (Beloyarsk AtomEnergoRepair Manufacturing Enterprise), in a short time the robotic installation, and then two more were ready. Our engineers are a miracle. They calculated the step of the planetary reducer on paper. Without the use of calculators and computers, as, at the time, they simply did not exist! When I adjusted the height of the electric arc, the engineer looked at the arc through the dimmed glass and said the height of the arc: "Height 2.5 mm! It is now 1.9mm. Now a few microns less! Now the norm is 1.7 mm!”
Further, the robotic installations were brought to the 3rd block of the nuclear station and they began to weld the seams. The soldiers brought and installed them there, the operator turned on the program and they began to do the job instead of people. When the robotic installations moved to the next mark, after two minutes, they almost immediately failed. In my home, in a relatively clean room on the 3rd block of the nuclear station, I replaced their burned chips, chased them on all modes, but as soon as they were taken back on the mark, then in a few minutes they went out of order. It continued several times! Changing the chips, so that they immediately went wrong, no longer made sense. A, it meant the collapse of the task of launching the 3rd block! The whole world disappeared before my eyes. First, the room itself disappeared, where there should be walls, I saw some light lines, instead of people saw a cluster of curved lines. But the most interesting thing I’ve seen is how the robotic installations on the mark are failing! I saw them burning their microchips! When I recovered, I already knew that I needed to change the schemes so that they continued to work smoothly. The task was completed, the 3rd block worked, though, not for a long time. Further, the collapse of the Union, the separation of Ukraine, and all the specialists began to receive copies and became unnecessary to the country, which was no longer!
My friends, Soviet engineers, all the liquidators of the consequences of the Chernobyl disaster, are dedicated!

The police were allowed to shoot at defeat at any threat.
As we remember, the threat to them are plastic glasses.

A familiar unmarried and without children (over thirty) met by inability with a girl (also childless, and also over thirty). He arranged a meeting, comes on a date to her at the address, and there begins the circus. He opens the door, beautiful, sexy, in a fighting colour, just... He immediately sends him to the bathroom to wash his hands and haru. Then - dressed in a dress, but pyjama pants and the same shirt. Sitting on with wine in the hall, each at his table, so that there is no physical contact, she has a sprayer under her hands to treat viruses. They ate and put on a movie. She was a girl on the couch, he was on the chair at the other end of the room. Talked about something. The pearl of a friend on a cough - held back from the last force, otherwise, as he said, by feelings he would be shot, and the body would be burned. We talked about something in the room. He was about to leave, dressed again in the bathroom, his pyjamas dress in the bathroom and thrown away. Meanwhile, the girl “desinfected” the room where they were sitting – spraying the table, the table, the chair and in general the whole part of the room where he was.



has gone. They are now scheduled for another date. And... he says – a girl though with strange things, but so cute. The next meeting will be at home. From the job took a chemistry suit (OZK or as it is called there) - the squirrel will ask him to change his clothes. He also took our healthy balloon, which we process production areas at work (balloon on the back, long hose, sprayer) - he wants to hit her with security measures in response. Well, as a "chicken on the cake" - a gift - a welding mask for working in closed spaces with a filtration output (through which the air supply goes) and a set of regenerative cartridges to it.

New Year’s Wishes for December 31, 2019:

Greta Thunberg: “Let the planes stop flying and children stop going to school not only on Fridays but in general”

Russian Olympians: "If we are not allowed to go to the Olympics in Tokyo, let no one go there"

Lukashenko: “That oil sellers should start paying buyers for oil”

Dogs: “so that the owners would put on their own clothes and urge us to go for a walk.”

Police officers: "what would be possible anyone to stop to check documents and outline fines"

Teachers: "so that you can not go to school and still get a salary"

Non-exile abroad: “Now we can’t – so let’s not let anyone!”

Wives: “To cancel all these sports matches and close the bars!”

There are no normal people who, walking the path of life, would not carry with them a horse of bitter regrets about what they have done (or not done). I think that’s normal, and I’m not going to argue. If you encounter a man who does not regret any of his actions, my advice to you: run away from him as there is strength.



My grief, as you will see, is extremely heavy. I will tell you about one thing I did in my childhood. It still burdens me now. I probably won’t get anything by bringing him to your court. But I hope someone gets a little easier when they realize how much more terrible mistakes others are capable of. I have no brother. However, in August 1991, my brother was still there.



∗ ∗ ∗

Every summer, our parents plunged us, the puppy, into a terrible dust, to the village to Grandma by the mother’s line, for at least a month. This was motivated by the need to consume the gifts of nature and clean air. In fact, everything, of course, was more prosaic: the parents wanted to get rid of us and rest on their own.



This trip left a double impression in my memory. Of course, there was a lot of good and interesting. The little one has a lot of fun in the village, and you know this very well. But the feeling of a restless summer greatly ruined our grandmother. I write this word from the correct letter not just so. Our grandmother was as far away as possible from the image of a good fairy-tale grandmother, which will bake pins and tell a story for the night. Honestly – and years later I understand it even more clearly – Grandma was a disgusting, half-crazy, evil megera, who went to the grave of her quiet and gentle husband. I hardly remember my grandfather. My brother was three years older than me, and I remembered him much better, always talking about him with warmth. Per this was the reason that if my grandmother was still relatively tolerant to me, then my brother was frankly hated. The more difficult it is for me to understand the selfish attitude of our parents, who year after year give us care of this old and sick woman. Oh, they knew her character, especially her father. But to all the protests the answer was one: "Well, don't invent it," "Listen to grandmother, she's old, don't upset her." I was afraid of my grandmother.



∗ ∗ ∗

That summer, my brother and I were 9 and 12 years old respectively. Andrei, as an elder, was obliged to watch over me, so we spent almost all the time together. There were few other children of our age in the village, and we were satisfied with those games that we invented for ourselves: a house on a tree in the woods behind the house, pirates on a homemade plate, stealing raspberries from the neighboring garden - a traditional boy set. My grandmother imposed a very strict order of the day, and God forbid you to break it. For understanding: she was not ashamed to take the straw if we were late to the table for at least a minute, did not fulfill her orders in the garden quickly enough, or went "where it wasn't necessary", as she became aware of from talking neighbors. "No need" was virtually nowhere, under the ban were the forest, the track, the big oak, the neighboring village, abandoned cowboys, the selpo at the intersection and, of course, the river. Every evening we told her stories about how innocently we spent the day: holding hands, walking on the lawn and collecting strawberries. “Well, look at me, crabs,” she whispered, striking her eyes. “I will admit it anyway if you lie.” Things went their way when one day we were "lucky" to find a cave.



∗ ∗ ∗

Two days in a row, almost non-stop, it rained. The adventures of Tom Sawyer were read, and the small black-and-white TV showed mostly interference, as you do with the wire attached to the antenna's nest. To explore the same loft for the hundredth time was not interesting, and the attempt to smash the hose, throwing through the ceiling bar of wires, Grandma categorically stopped. Being with her in one small house was almost physically hard. Therefore, it was only necessary for the clouds to break up, we and the screams went out to freedom. They got chased for screams and were released "to the wool" due to the fact that the wet garden did not require water.



By the surrounding paths, every minute afraid of surveillance, we reached the wide, grown out of the fierce urticaria, through which once a tree had long since fallen. This tree and the danger of falling down from it, by themselves, gave a clear reason for entertainment. The whole village stood on a high (truly very high) hill, steeply sloping to the river. The hole of the hole went in the same direction, and was in some places at least a dozen meters deep. At the bottom of it you were waiting for coolness, shadow, rushing streams and inevitable scratches and urticaria burns, not to mention the mosquitoes. One of the sides of the rainbow was remarkable with pebble nests - there we headed, first on the slippery tree trunk after the rain, and then, with no less risk to curl the neck, under the sandy edge of the breeze, sowed with nests-norks. For a while we tried to see something in the nests (we found the skeleton of a puppy), and then the slumbering teaches suddenly attacked us, flying with the flock, touching the hair and face with their wings. Without expecting the foolish birds to do this, I made the wrong move and cried down.



When Andrew, clinging to the bushes and grass, cautiously came down to me, I was already considering my discovery, forgetting about a dozen fresh scratches and a torn shirt. Part of the clay slope (I drove to about its middle) as if slipped down under its own weight, opening a narrow horizontal gap of only half a meter in length. It was dark in the hole. From the Dulo. Per the gap had been there before, but most likely this two-day rains provoked the landslide. Great luck for young researchers.



We grabbed in the ground until dinner, and broadened the gap so much that I managed to climb inside. Almost immediately the cave expanded into the shape of a chamber, a grotto with walls of wet cold clay, where you could sit freely. There was not enough light, but I saw that the narrow passage went further and seemed to be turning.



Washing up near the street column, my brother and I vowed not to tell about the discovery of a single living soul. It is difficult to convey our interests to the pioneers. In addition, we now had the most secret headquarters in the world. This summer promised to be interesting.



∗ ∗ ∗

For two weeks, deceiving Grandma, we our secret. We had a light bulb charging from the socket, and the excavation tool (old moths and sink) was insidiously stolen from the shell. Every day, observing all possible conspiracy, we went into the coolness of the cave, in the entrance grotto of which we organized the headquarters: we made a supply of edible, leveled and covered the floor with cardboard, cut in the walls shelves and niches for a couple of candles from the nearest selpo.



The main task for us was to find where the cave ends - the crossroads clearly indicated the presence of a second exit. From the cave led a narrow and curved loop, initially more than enough for the boy, but further narrowing. We walked on him one after another. There was only one lamp, and it was handed over to the one who pulled first today. Gradually we expanded the tunnel and went further and further, but it went slowly: we went somewhere in a meter and a half in a day, hardly pushing back the accumulated clay. Then I had to blindly roll back, feet forward – and it was much more difficult. The width of the lace did not exceed the width of the children's shoulders, and in this dark, claustrophobically narrow space it was extremely difficult even to breathe deeply, and the worst of all, to handle a sovkom. Several times it happened that one of us was stuck in this hole, and it caused us to fear. But every time, rushing and pushing back with stretched hands forward (it was impossible to lower your arms along the body, clinging down too for nothing), it was possible to give up back, after which the excavations and the expansion of the tunnel continued.



The difficulties did not stop us. We carefully mapped the journey on a double notepad, and at night we whispered about plans for tomorrow. Overall, the cave went with the bow to the right, as if striving to return to the woods, and down. We encountered one branch, but it ended in a deadlock (crash) literally a couple of meters from the main trunk.



The speleological investigations continued until one day the brother, who was louder than usual, cried behind my back and said with a silent voice, “Weather... I’m stuck.”



∗ ∗ ∗

Per it was my fault in what happened. I walked first that day, we were eighteen meters from the entrance to the cave. I was so eager to advance further than the difficult section of the stones that had struck us, that I did not take proper care of expanding the tunnel in this place, but I passed forward. My brother...he was bigger than me. He was stuck in a narrow place and could do nothing, nothing at all.

Panic did not start immediately. But when an hour later Andrew could not move a centimetre forward or backwards, having tried all our techniques, hysterical notes appeared in his voice, and I tried to sneeze my nose more quietly.

Three hours later (at the top it was far after noon) we both, desperate, cried out and cried out "help" - without any meaning at such a depth. I begged Andrew to try again to grab my leg so that I could pull him forward, but he screamed that he was hurt, that he was suffocating. To help him. I tried to light on him, but I couldn’t even look around to look at him – we were scattered under the thickness of the earth, and now the task of exploring the cave didn’t seem so good to me. At some point, in an outstretched attempt to break out of the ticks, he turned the body a little - and stuck already finally, blocking the way back and me. We were trapped and nobody knew where we were.



∗ ∗ ∗

Andrei was the oldest. Trying to calm himself, he explained his plan. Our only way out was to move forward and get to the second exit, and then call for help. In general, nothing else was left to us, although the chances of success were minimal. But I had a sink and a lamp, and the tunnel in front of me, as much as there was enough light, expanded a little. We agreed to scream every minute, and I started stepping forward, curving like a earthworm.



Panic and despair overshadowed my memories, and I can only remember how indefinitely flying, and flying, and flying forward, shaking my arms, knees, and clothes. The screams of my brother from the darkness behind me became more and more silent, until they turned into meaningless, echo-distorted, deaf twists. I cried and tried not to scream anymore. There was light in front. I got out of the ground, throwing pieces of raw dirt at the very bottom of the same wreck, at its beginning, next to the stream and the pile of garbage that was thrown down by the inhabitants of the surrounding houses for years.



Crying out of happiness, I hardly got up on my feet and looked at myself. is terrible. Need to get help, but where? What will Grandma say? She will kill me. It will kill us both, absolutely. When I looked up with tears, I saw my grandmother’s head above the edge of the abyss. She looked straight at me, the dirty and miserable breaker of all her rules, and how evil her eyes were. I lost consciousness from shock.



∗ ∗ ∗

When I opened my eyes, I saw a dark sky above me. We missed dinner time. The whole body hurt. And then I realized that I just can’t. I can’t tell my grandmother (I just felt like I saw her above), what we did and what happened. I am a coward, a terrible coward. But nausea rolled to the throat with only the thought of confession. I said I was very afraid of her. Now you know how much. God right, I was just a scared child!

Of course, these are just cheap excuses. Swimming alone under the column, I swore to myself that tomorrow I would save my brother myself.



∗ ∗ ∗

Where is your brother? - Screaming, like a pair of rusted doors, the voice is calm and somewhat cold. Not a word about my appearance or my delay. I put my head in my shoulders.



We fought and walked apart. Has he not yet come? A sad, obvious lie.



But not yet. My hands and eat. A plate on the table.



Nothing more was said. I wrapped up in bed for a long time, depicting my brother there, captured in the cold land, as if buried alive. I had nightmares.



∗ ∗ ∗

I found a job in the garden in the morning, it was impossible to lick. I was gathering the Colorado larvae in a bowl under the heavily blinking gaze of my grandmother sitting on the doorstep in her chair. Having managed to get out only after noon, I went through the gardens to the oak.

Just as I got into the pit, I heard the whirling and the stone. I clicked on my brother and walked toward him, climbing to the feet of his shoes.

Oh my God, how glad I was. Asked when there would be help, and why so long, and whether the adults had gathered with the blades, something more about the rope - Andrei spoke on his chest, laughed and knocked his legs. He has been in the tunnel for 24 hours. And the night is one, in total darkness.

Getting stuck, I explained to him that there will be no help yet, that is, I will help him now, I will pull him out, I have the lamp charged... For a while he was silent, and then he hit me with my foot in the face. I rolled back as I could, trying to convince him that it would be better for everyone. He agreed. He had no particular choice.



I forged the ground and so on, ran after a long hole, dragged him by his feet under terrible cries of pain. He broke through the other side, through the outlet at the stream, and when we found ourselves face to face, he spit at me. I made a kick under his chest, told him to breathe out and pulled. I brought him candles and light bulbs so that there would be light in his cave (yes, I already called this place "his cave") - because the lamp I carried with me. He brought his brother water and a couple of apples, then pulled food from his grandmother’s kitchen.



But I could never pull him out. Neither this day nor the next.



On the second day of my attempt to save my brother, he vowed to kill me as soon as he left. He told me how he would break my fingers on my hands one by one, how he would scratch my eyes with his pearl knife. I was crying, and he too. I forged the ground, but my strength was lacking. “Help me!” He was screaming. “Help me!” As I walked out of the cave to have time for dinner, I heard my brother shouting and laughing in the depths.



After spending another night in the cave, Andrew stopped cursing me, only quietly shrugged and refused to let go of the remaining candlestick. Drinking water thirsty. I prayed to tell my grandmother. I prayed, but no hope. I apologized for saying I wasn’t his brother anymore. We have not spoken so much in our lives as we did on that day, in the light of a faint lamp in the narrow walls. At dinner, the grandmother said that once Andrew has never returned, it is necessary to call the police.



The sin of low-mindedness is the worst of sins.



As you can see, I didn’t say anything to anyone.



Half of the village’s population agreed to take part in the search for my brother. I lied as if it was the last time I saw him outside the garden near the forest. They scratched the forest and found our house on a tree. Andrei was not found. When I came to my brother’s cave, he had already spent the last candles I could find for him, and did not react to my appearance. I thought that in his exhausted dirty face, with his half-crazy eyes opened, something humanly very important was missing. He seemed to hide moisture from the walls and chew clay – I saw traces of nails and teeth around. I said I didn’t bring him food because he would lose weight faster and get out. Andrei agreed without any interest that it was reasonable. When I left, he made no sound, only lay there and looked me straight in the eyes. I slipped back on the touch, holding the lamp, and all looked at his moving face until it hid behind the turn of the tunnel.



The next day came a sad father and a crying mother. I was sitting in my room and I was strictly forbidden to go out. The police officer and father asked me again what had happened. I was disgusted with lying, and it was disgusted with the fact that in the depths of my heart I rejoiced that I was able to avoid punishment. But I rejoiced no matter. For four days, the search continued, some people came and went, accompanied by a heavy grandmother's gaze. Finally, in the evening, my mom approached me, hugged me and told me we were going home. In the morning, he will take us to the station. I asked her to let me walk alone for the last time, at least for a few minutes.



I stumbled into the entrance to the cave and sat there for a long time, not hesitating to go inside, so as not to defile the new clothes brought by my mother. From the black hole there was a hardly heard singing — more precisely, a whispering without words. There, deep under the ground, my brother was singing a song in the darkness and loneliness.



In the morning we left.



∗ ∗ ∗

I am now 35 years old, I have a wife and a son. My mom is very old, I bring her to us on the holidays. I have no brother. Like his father: his second heart attack in 2010; I think he suspected something until the last day. Her grandmother died in 2003, and no one bought her village house. I drove there a year ago: the barrel through the oak broke and fell. I went down to the place where my brother’s cave began, and stood: nothing but the grass-grown earth. The memory returned to me that strangest melody, singing without words.



The ugly old lady knew it all. Our dirty clothes and the ground in our hair – she was watching us. I saw her that day over the cliff. She put a plate on the table when I got home. She knew what was happening.



She never liked Andrew.

An experienced fool easily bypasses the protection against a fool on any type of household appliance.

In the United States, Derek Medina, the author of the book on family harmony "How to Preserve Life, Marriage and Family through Communication", shot his wife and posted a photo of the corpse on Facebook.
Dale Carnegie, author of How to Win Friends, has died.
Benjamin Spock, the author of many books on the upbringing of children, his own sons wanted to hand over to the nursing home.
Korean writer Chwe Yong-hee, author of the best-selling book How to Become Happy, has died from depression.
Per that’s all you need to know about different types of personal growth training.

Now the airlines write friendly that they hope for our understanding and support in this difficult time. “Where were you when my suitcase weighed 23.1 kg?”“”

“Imagine if you were married at the age of the last two digits of your phone. At what time would it be?”

The comments:

Roman Sulitsky: What are you doing, people? You are foolishly written down the phone numbers in connection to the social network, so as not to pay the FB itself for this service. Sitting a digital agency, develops a series of dumb tests that mathematically restore the full number. Then there will be a test, put the last two digits with the number in front of them and find out how long you will live. : - )

Julia Vin: The persecution mania?

Roman Sulitsky – Julia Vin: No, work in marketing.

One day in the first class I liked a girl. For a person with my appearance, this is a memorable event. Usually the key to success in communicating with the girls I have is access to the ear, and then I invited myself! Back home when my parents were not there. They came in, she ran into the kitchen, and I walked around the apartment and looked at all kinds of funny dolls and statuettes that Dad brought from Africa. Here she calls for tea, I uncomfortable unfold and take one of them to the floor! My head is falling, I am neither alive nor dead.

You are where?

I quickly grab the statuette, put on place and head carefully from above. seem not to be seen.

While I was drinking tea, I was very nervous, all the thoughts about my curvature, and how stupid I would be in her eyes when it all opened up. He sat down the smallest and fled under a fictional pretext.

She then invited me to the doctor, but I did not go.



A year ago at the box office in Bahetle, I suddenly heard:

Oh my hello! A hundred years, a hundred winters.

They talked something simple and warm, and I told the story why I disappeared, apologized.



You are a fool, Latvian! I broke it at 10 years old. Oh stupid...



She smiled sadly, nodded her head and went on her beautiful walk, straightening her shoulders and as if getting a little higher.

Began to meet a guy. As he has at night, I wake up 2-3 times in the night. Everything is okay at home. She shared with him an observation – “That’s how I buzz you, you sneeze – the walls are shaking!” And then I remembered waking up at home sometimes - the cat waked up at night, smoothed his foot on his nose!

There is a girl at work, she worked so badly that we asked her not to do anything, and when it had to be done, we often did it for her. I found out today that he was promoted. A known director.

The further the power is from the people, the more rights the police have against the people.

I spent a month in self-isolation.

7 km a day walk, without meat, milk and flour. I eat fresh vegetables, fruits and cook at home every day. I drink two liters of clean water every day.

The changes are amazing!! I feel great! Zero of alcohol. Healthy gluten-free diet without caffeine and an hour of home workout, I do yoga every day. Learn to meditate!

I lost 10 kg and gained muscle mass. I learn a new profession remotely. I learn a second foreign language. 

P.S I have no idea who wrote it, but I am so proud of this person that I decided to copy and post it.

With disarming pride, the energy minister said: “Despite the fact that oil prices have fallen, we have managed to make vigorous and timely efforts to prevent gasoline prices from falling.”

At one time, my father gave me a very good advice, which saved me 90% from getting into the friendzone. I need to call a girl on a date. Not “go to drink beer,” “go to the cafe,” no. “I want to invite you to a date.” As practice has shown, in most cases, girls perceived this immediately as the beginning of the affair, if they agreed, or said immediately "no". Maybe someone can help)