When your electrician union badge meets a stepdad who thinks “real tradesmen” don’t need a union, sparks fly—literally.

The Drama​

I’m an electrician and proud union member. My ex and I share custody of three kids, and after a rough divorce she remarried a guy—let’s call him Brad—who’s been dating her for six months. Brad works in the trades too, but he’s a self‑employed IT network guy doing small, non‑union gigs.

A few weeks ago, Brad showed up at my daughter’s volleyball game. He tossed out a line in front of me: “Real tradesmen don’t need to be in a union.” I was wearing my union‑logo tee, so he could have seen the irony. I stayed calm and didn’t bite.

Then this morning, my ex called out of the blue. “Brad needs a panel checked at one of his jobs,” she said. “Could you just swing by? It’ll only take a few minutes, and you’d technically be working for Brad.”

I explained that union rules say you can’t do a side job outside of your shop, and that I charge everyone the same rate. She retorted, “You’re going to make a big deal out of this with my husband?” I told her, “He can hire his own subcontractors or pay me like everyone else.” Now she’s calling me petty and saying I’m causing tension just because Brad lives with the kids. I told her professionalism isn’t petty—I don’t give free labor to people who disrespect my trade.

So, am I the asshole for refusing to do free work for my ex’s husband?

So, picture this: I’m a responsible adult with a fiancé and a decent apartment. My best friend, bless her, is a licensed, car‑owning, “I can drive myself” type who somehow thinks she’s a mobile vending machine for meds and groceries. Every time she needs something, she’s like, “Can you guys take me to the pharmacy?” or “Can you pick me up from the store?” and she never lifts a finger. She can drive herself, but apparently she can’t drive herself to my house either. I’ve been politely telling her, “Hey, I’m busy, but I love you and hope you have a good day.” The next night, she texts me: “TLDR: we need to talk.” I reply, “Sure, let’s talk in person.” She says, “Fine, I’ll come over.” I say, “Nah, you’re welcome to drop by my place (30 seconds away).” She declines. The saga continues over the weekend, with me offering her my place again and again, her declining, and her claiming the conversation is getting “too long” to have.

By Monday, I’m feeling like the person who’s been taken advantage of for weeks. I’m frustrated, I’m giving her grace, and I’ve stopped replying to her dismissive “K” because I’ve decided to put my own boundaries first. The question on everyone’s mind: Am I the asshole for refusing to go to her house to have this conversation?

Ever stared at the ceiling and wondered what happens when you finally stop blinking? Some folks have tried to solve the cosmic puzzle, but the answer seems to be… something like a very quiet, very cold, very... snooze?

Our brave Reddit poster recently dropped the ultimate existential question on the internet and got a flood of replies that range from philosophical musings to the kind of panic‑inducing “I wish I didn’t” that would make even a philosopher’s eyebrows raise.

The original post (paraphrased)​

Nothing.
Probably the same feeling as when you sleep and don’t dream. That’s death.
Or before you were born.
Does anyone else experience flashes of panic when they read about the idea of an infinity of nothing?
I wish I didn’t.
I feel like therapy and the other things I’ve tried are just distractions and haven’t brought me peace.

Edit (4 PM EST):
I just wanted to add that I’m so glad so many people responded to this.
One of my favorite authors is Kurt Vonnegut and his humor about the universe was this coping mechanism of humor and almost nihilism.
I know that together we are so royally screwed. But we ARE in the together despite being separate beings.
Something about the warm embrace of our doomed orbits against the indifferent march to death drives me to be more just decent to one another.
I hope in service to my fellow being, my candle can burn up rather than burn out.

For me the worst part is the inevitability of it. Someday it will come, someday there is a point in life where all of it is over. Seriously scared.

The comments​

• Nothing
• Probably the same feeling as when you sleep and don’t dream. That’s death
• Or before you were born.
• Does anyone else experience flashes of panic when they read about the idea of an infinity of nothing?
• I wish I didn’t.
• I feel like therapy and the other things I’ve tried are just distractions and haven’t brought me peace.
• For me the worst part is the inevitability of it. Someday it will come, someday there is a point in life where all of it is over. Seriously scared.

You’ve got a tiny office, a big project, and a coworker who can make a cactus blush with her passive‑aggressive eye‑rolls. Your interns are the secret sauce for the January‑May sprint, and suddenly the office gossip machine decides to turn that sauce into a salad for someone else. The good news? Your boss is a pushover, which in this case means you can actually negotiate. The bad news? Your boss’ boss has already whispered that both the boss and the coworker might be on the “fire list” for performance issues. You’re essentially playing a high‑stakes game of “Who gets the interns?” with your sanity on the line.

The Situation in One Paragraph (because the internet loves brevity)​

• You: Manager of 2 interns, champion of a big project due Jan‑May.
• Katy: Manager of 1 intern, toxic, hates you, and just asked the boss for a new intern—spoiler: the new intern is one of yours.
• Boss: Pushover, thinks “girl fights” are a normal office drama.
• Boss’s Boss: Threatening fire‑sales, knows about the potential firing of both the boss and Katy.
• The Intern: Leaving soon, could end up under Katy if you don’t act.

Why You Need to Keep Your Interns​

1. Project Deadlines Are Real – You’ve trained them for a project that’s longer than a Netflix series.
2. Intern Morale Matters – They’re your “future talent.” Don’t make them the scapegoat for office politics.
3. Avoiding a HR Showdown – If the boss gets “pushed” on an intern, you’re the only one who knows the impending layoffs. Don’t put them in the crossfire.

A Plan That Doesn’t End in a Scream​

1. Stick to the Facts (No “I feel hurt” drama)​

“Boss, I’ve mapped out the project timeline and the skill gaps. The interns are the only ones who can handle the next phase. If I lose them, we’ll miss the deadline, and the client will be less than thrilled.”

2. Highlight the “Business Case”​

• Timeline: Two interns = 30% faster completion.
• Skill Match: Interns already trained on the specific tech stack.
• Risk Mitigation: Avoiding re‑training new talent during a critical period.

3. Offer a Compromise (Because Nobody Likes a “No”)​

“Once we finish the January‑May project, I’ll gladly assign the interns to help Katy on her next assignment, but they’ll still report to me for consistency.”

4. Prepare for the “Boss Says ‘Deal With It’” Response​

• Reinforce the ROI – “We’re investing in a project that will bring in $X in revenue.”
• Show Alignment – “This keeps us on track with the company’s Q2 goals.”

5. Keep the Conversation Professional (No “I’m being emotional”)​

• Use “I” Statements Wisely – “I’m concerned about the project timeline.”
• Avoid Personal Grievances – Leave the eye‑rolling to the office gossip column.

The Outcome (Because You’ll Need a TL;DR)​

You went to the meeting with facts, no drama, and a solid compromise. Boss agreed: your interns stay for the project, then they’ll help Katy afterward but still report to you. You saved the day, preserved your interns, and avoided a potential HR circus.

Ever wonder how a Christmas party can turn into a career‑ending fiasco? Meet our hero: a man who thought “holidays” meant “holidays for a hangover.” He strutted into the office Christmas bash, glass in hand, and decided the only thing missing was a personal “I Love You” tour for everyone—single, married, or in a questionable relationship with his own reflection.

He waltzed from table to table, proclaiming his affection with a flourish of arm‑and‑back rubs that would make a masseuse blush. “I love you!” he’d chirp, rubbing a woman’s back, then a married woman’s hand, then the woman’s husband’s arm—because apparently, nothing says “season’s greetings” like unsolicited caresses. He even tried to “hold hands” with anyone who’d look at him the right way (and, honestly, he probably thought his job was safe because he’d been there 10 years).

By the end of the night, the office had a new, very intoxicated “friend” who had somehow convinced himself that he was a holiday Santa for everyone. The next Monday? He was gone. HR, ever the party pooper, called it a Career Limiting Decision (or as the office whispered, a Career Limiting Move—CLM for short). The only thing he left behind was a pile of sticky notes and a new office legend.

Ever feel like you’re the IT version of a personal trainer, but everyone’s just showing you the workout plan from a fitness app instead of actually telling you what they want? That’s the daily grind for our hero here, who’s been receiving a steady stream of “I just asked ChatGPT and it said X” from end‑users. The irony? The answers are often as stale as last week’s pizza, or worse, they’re from a model that was last updated before the coffee machine stopped working.

The “AI‑Assisted” Problem Solving Cycle​

1. User: “I need an incoming webhook on Teams. I asked ChatGPT, it gave me a solution. Tried it, still no good.”
2. IT: “Let’s hop on a call to figure out exactly what you tried. Maybe the bot didn’t know about our firewall.”
3. User: “I need a new laptop for Photoshop. The LLM listed the latest model, but it’s discontinued.”
4. IT: “Okay, I’ll do a quick search and get it approved. Yes, because the AI can’t just know inventory levels.”

The result? A half‑finished support ticket, a half‑satisfied customer, and an IT professional who’s basically doing “AI‑assisted” troubleshooting while feeling like a time‑traveling librarian.

Why the AI Is Not the Answer​

• Outdated info: The model’s knowledge cutoff is 2023. A “new” laptop from last year is now vintage.
• Context‑less advice: The bot can’t see your network’s quirks, your team’s policies, or the fact that your Teams channel is protected by a corporate firewall.
• No empathy: It can’t read the frustration in a user’s voice or the subtle hint that the user actually just wants a quick fix.

In short, the AI is like a brilliant but clueless tour guide who keeps pointing at a monument that’s been replaced by a parking garage.

Community “Cheezburger” Reactions​

But… but… AI! /s
Also, these are the people who ask ChatGPT instead of their doctor as well. At least soon enough they won’t be asking anything anymore.

Or (even more frightening for society) asking AI: What should I vote?
Asking an A.I what you should vote is just called Managed Democracy(tm).

Back in my day it was always “My mate down the pub says…”, but never as bad as this.
I think part of the problem is that corporations are heavily pushing their use in regular workload. So since it becomes a regular approved tool then they use it for everything and figure that’s a good solution.

We’re all just waiting for the day when the AI gives us a life‑changing career plan and a budget spreadsheet that actually matches our real‑world constraints.
Until then, keep those “I asked ChatGPT” replies coming. They’re the real comedy gold.

Picture this: you’re a fearless Level‑2 Network Hero, swooping in to rescue a clinic where the phones are dead, the computers are screaming “Network Error,” and the doctors are staring at their screens like a bad horror movie. The culprit? A Cisco switch that decided it was time for a mid‑life crisis and went permanently offline—except for a single, rebellious port that stayed up. Spoiler: the switch is PoE‑centric, and the clinic’s terminals are chained to phones that double as power adapters. Classic case of “If the phone dies, the whole network dies.”

The Setup​

• Equipment: Dell Wyse Terminals running ThinOS, PoE phones, and networked printers.
• Connectivity: Each terminal is tucked into a phone’s Ethernet passthrough. The phones don’t support passive passthrough, so lose power on the phone and the terminal gets the boot.
• Symptoms: Phones dead, computers offline, patients waiting, doctors powerless.

The Investigation​

You open your custom “Network Detective” tool, and the dashboard is a masterpiece of doom:

Interface GigabitEthernet1/0/3 – down
Interface GigabitEthernet1/0/7 – down
...

All the other ports are fine, except for the ones feeding the terminal‑phone combo. Your heart rate spikes; it looks like a layer‑1 cable cut, but why only on one switch? The syslog whispers:

%ILPOWER-5-IEEE_DISCONNECT: Interface Gi1/0/9: PD removed
%ILPOWER-3-CONTROLLER_PORT_ERR: Controller port error, Interface Gi1/0/9: Power Controller reports power Tstart error detected

Turns out the switch stopped delivering PoE, and the phones, and therefore the terminals, were left in the dark.

The Dilemma​

You’re at a crossroads: Reboot the switch or wait for the omniscient Network Engineering squad. The switch is partly online, but the PoE is gone. Your manager is in a meeting. The clinic manager is about to lose another hour of patient time. The risk? The switch might not come back or could cause a ripple of outages in the LAN.

You decide: Reboot. Because you’ve never had a switch fail in your career, you’re probably safe.

The Reboot​

You log an emergency change, call the clinic manager, and together you yank the power. The switch lights flicker, a ticket is auto‑generated, and your manager finally checks in. The switch boots, but the phones stay dead. The drama intensifies: “I can’t log in to my computer now either.”

You’re stuck, the switch is still down, and the clinic’s operations are on a cliff edge. The only hope? Manual re‑patching.

The Patch Panel Showdown​

You guide the clinic manager through the patch panel like a game show host. “Follow the blue cable, note the wall plate number,” you say. She does it. Within 10 minutes, three desks are back online. The clinic manager’s confidence surges; the doctors are grateful; you’re breathing a little easier.

Your manager returns, sees the chaos, and says, “You did WHAT?” After you explain the reasoning and the outcome, he’s surprisingly calm and says you’ll be fine. Spoiler: you didn’t get fired. 🎉

The Aftermath​

• The switch is replaced by “Outeractive” (the vendor, not a real one). PoE returns to life.
• Free ports on the working switch saved the day.
• You have a photo of the rack for future reference.
• The clinic manager sends a positive feedback email that makes you feel like a hero in a medical drama.
• Network engineers just nod and say they’ll re‑apply the config on the new switch.

The Lessons Learned​

1. Don’t reboot unless you’re sure the switch is dead. Reboots can be risky if the device is partially online.
2. Keep a backup plan—manual patching is the unsung hero of network crises.
3. Document your process so your manager knows what you’re doing.
4. Don’t let the network engineers take all the credit; a good story ends with a hero and a happy clinic manager.

TL;DR​

A clinic’s PoE‑dependent devices went dark because a Cisco switch stopped delivering power. The hero (our narrator) rebooted the switch, which didn’t fix it, then manually patched terminals via the patch panel, restoring service. The switch was replaced, no one got fired, and the clinic manager was impressed. Lesson: reboot only when necessary, keep a backup plan, and always be ready to play patch‑panel wizard.

Ever wondered what it’s like to be a 4‑D creature looking down on our 3‑D world? Reddit’s latest thread dives into that exact question—“Do 4 dimensional beings know if the universe is infinite?” The comments that followed could be taken straight from a sci‑fi sitcom, complete with mis‑used math, flatland metaphors, and an unexpected love of string theory. Below is the original post, a comedic take on the discussion, and a highlight reel of the comments that made the thread a meme‑worthy masterpiece.

The Original Question (Paraphrased)​

The OP:
"If we had a 4‑dimensional being, would they know whether our universe is infinite? And if they could see time, would they be able to travel at 100 mph or hop over to Mars? Basically, can a higher‑dimensional perspective give us the answer to the cosmic size mystery?"

The OP’s question is a classic “what if” scenario that invites both philosophical speculation and scientific jargon. The answers that followed ranged from “time isn’t a spatial dimension” to “we’re probably already living in an infinite number of dimensions.”

A Light‑Hearted Take on the Thread​

Imagine a 4‑D being, let’s call them Quadra‑Quinn. Quadra‑Quinn has a pair of extra eyes that can see our universe from above and below at the same time. They’d see our galaxy as a tiny, spinning pancake and our entire cosmic microwave background as a glittering, infinite quilt. They’d probably say, “You humans, you’re so obsessed with the horizon! I can see it from the inside. Welcome to the infinite club—no membership fee required.”

But would they care? According to one commenter, 4‑D beings might think infinite universes are like “a pizza with endless toppings—fine, but nobody wants to eat it.” Another joked that a 5‑D being would have to go to the 5th dimension to understand the 6th‑dimensional universe, and that’s where the infinite mystery really lies.

And let’s not forget the time‑travel gags: “I can move through three dimensions, but that doesn’t mean I can get there at 100 mph or transport myself to Mars. There are limits.” The classic “speed limit” of the cosmos—if you can’t outpace the speed of light, you’re stuck in the same 4‑D bubble no matter how many dimensions you add.

So, the bottom line? If we ever meet a 4‑D being, they’ll probably tell us the universe is infinite and that we’re all stuck with a limited time horizon—unless we’re talking about a 5‑D being who sees time as a non‑linear, infinite loop.

The Reddit Commentary (Highlights)​

• Comment 1
  "Maybe? I can move through three dimensions but that doesn't mean I can get there at 100mph or transport myself to Mars. There are limits. So maybe they can see/feel/whatever time but in limited capacities. Maybe they can only see time at it pertains to the duration their life. They can't see time from before they were born or after they die. We might need to go to the 5th dimension. We are 3 dimensional being observing a 4 dimensional world. Which makes time linear. A 4th dimensional being would be perceiving a 5th dimensional world. Which would make time non-linear. But perhaps still has limits. A 5th dimensional observing a 6th dimensional world might be able to see that past those limits."
  Comment 2
  "Time isn't the same as a spatial dimension. When talking about 4d beings that usually means 4 spatial dimensions, and probably time as well. Time can be thought of as orthogonal to space itself, no matter the number of dimensions."
  Comment 3
  "Well. We're technically 4 dimensions and don't know for sure. But even if you found a 5 dimensional being they might not know. String theory needs what... Like 19 dimensions or something? And a 19 dimensional being that was just like... A 19d space deer or something wouldn't know."
  Comment 4
  "To get really technical about it, we're living in an infinite number of dimensions, since a dimension is any axis of measurement you can think of."
  Comment 5
  "Or an axis you can't think of, like flatlanders imagining depth."

The comments showcase a delightful mix of serious physics, playful metaphors, and the classic Reddit tendency to go way off track. The last comment, in particular, is a nod to Edwin Abbott’s Flatland, reminding us that even the most advanced beings can still be “flat” in their understanding.

TL;DR​

4‑D beings probably know the universe is infinite, but they'll still be stuck with a 100 mph speed limit and a linear timeline—unless you bring a 5‑D friend who can see time as a non‑linear loop. And if you’re a flatlander, just keep picturing depth; that’s the real power move.

The Remote Decorating Dilemma​

Picture this: you’re a remote worker, living in a world where your biggest holiday decoration is the coffee mug that says “I love my job.” Then your boss, the brand‑new manager who’s still figuring out how to use the “mandatory overtime” button, asks you to submit a photo of your holiday décor for the upcoming Office Holiday Guess‑Who game.

You’re the type of person who thinks that putting a string of lights around your living room is a waste of both space and time. The garbage truck will come, the lights will flicker, and you’ll be left with a pile of plastic ornaments that will probably end up in a landfill.

You also have the luxury (and the burden) of being neurodivergent, which means you’re already good at ignoring the social cues that say “please bring the Christmas spirit to the office.” So, you tell your boss, in a tone that could be interpreted as “I don’t decorate and I’ll stay silent about it.” She responds with a sigh, a “you’re ruining the game” emoji, and a reminder that you’re not Christian.

And if that wasn’t enough, she just discovered that the 13‑hour “mandatory overtime” session was actually a manipulation tactic.

Bottom line: you didn’t send a picture. The question is, are you the AITA?

The Comments (Because Reddit Is Life)​

Send her a picture of your lack of decorations, the team can guess who doesn’t decorate if she shows your picture.
Personally, I wouldn’t want to be sharing pictures of my home. They can see whatever is on the screen during video calls and that’s it. Nta

NTA. Send in a picture of your not‑decorated space.
It's the most honest to the prompt. Or go ahead and use a stock image. Or maybe an obviously publicly decorated space.

You can still participate in the mandatory fun without compromising your space & values. Or really do ask to just not participate.
Personally I think including a fully average undecorated living room in the mix would be funny.

Lmao, imagine trying to force someone to celebrate a religious holiday.

That's insane.

NTA. Not everyone decorates, nor celebrates, nor even participates in Christmas.

NTA.

A key part of being a manager is being inclusive when planning things like this. They should have considered, at the very least, that there might be people on the team who don’t celebrate the particular holiday and just never thought to mention it, and should have had some alternative way to participate.

TL;DR​

You’re not the AITA. Your boss probably just needed a new “how to use the office calendar” tutorial. Sending a photo of your bare‑bones living room (or a stock image of a single, lonely Christmas ornament) is the most honest, least manipulative, and probably the most entertaining thing you can do. And if she still thinks you’re ruining the game, just tell her you’re a non‑decorator and let the rest of the team enjoy the guess‑who spectacle.

TL;DR: Husband’s MIL keeps asking when they’ll have kids in public. The wife finally snaps—“I’m fucking your son, I’ll get pregnant, I’m tired of this!” She’s not the asshole; she’s the right person to set boundaries.

The Family‑Feud‑ish Post​

Picture this: a young, newlywed couple in their mid‑20s, both blissfully unaware that the world thinks they’re “baby‑mode” 24‑/7. Their mother‑in‑law—who apparently thinks she’s the family’s personal fertility counselor—keeps dropping the classic “when are you having kids?” bomb at every family gathering, holiday, and even when the whole clan is gathered around the Thanksgiving turkey.

She never says it in a private, one‑on‑one setting. Nope. It’s always in front of everyone, like a spotlight on the most awkward moment. The wife has tried politely (and repeatedly) to say, “We don’t know yet. We’re thinking.” She’s even told the MIL to stop bringing it up publicly. But the MIL keeps it up like a broken record.

Add a personal twist: the wife has been dealing with health issues that make pregnancy a complicated, uncertain road. She wants kids, but she also wants to keep that decision private. Every time the MIL asks in front of the whole clan, the wife feels “put on the spot” and “broken,” like a silent judge is peering in.

At Thanksgiving, the MIL’s question hit a nerve: “So when are you two finally going to give us a grand baby?” The wife exploded, “I don’t understand either. We’re always trying… every single day. It just hasn’t happened yet.” The table fell silent. The husband later told her he understood her frustration but thought she might have gone a bit overboard.

Now she’s asking: Am I the asshole for telling my MIL her son and I are always banging? She even added a snarky edit: “I’m sick and tired of this behavior and I know I need to establish boundaries.”

The Comments (Spoiler‑Free, Username‑Free)​

• “What exactly is it that you're asking? Are you asking if your son and I engage in unprotected sex? Are you asking whether or not your son wears a condom on his penis while we have sex? Are you asking if your son ejaculates inside of my vagina specifically during the ovulation phase of my menstrual cycle?”

• Add “raw dogging it” to make the MIL more uncomfortable. She’s rude as all hell lol.

• Hahahaha. NTA, by a long shot. You weren’t even vulgar about it. Ask stupid questions, win stupid prizes. Maybe she’ll finally leave the topic alone.

• NTA, but you need to shut this down differently. Call her out in a very polite way that shines light on this in front of others.

• What an unusual thing to ask in public.

• Did you mean to ask that out loud?

• Why do you think you are entitled to that information?

• Why do you continue to ask personal questions in front of other people? Or at all?

• You do realize that if we have a child, the point isn't to give you a grandchild? It's not all about you.

• I'm curious why you ask me that once a week.

• NTA. And you're my new hero!! Go you. I hope your health problems get figured out.

Bottom‑Line Takeaway​

The wife’s frustration is totally legitimate. Her MIL’s public “baby‑bombs” are a classic case of inappropriate boundary‑crossing. The wife’s outburst—though a bit dramatic—was a form of assertive boundary‑setting that many readers found justified. The comments largely echo that sentiment, with a few snarky side‑bars that keep the conversation lively.

So, in the grand scheme of Reddit justice, the wife is NOT the asshole. She’s just a woman who finally had enough and decided to speak her mind. The MIL? Probably needs a reality check.

And that, dear readers, is how you turn a family drama into a meme‑worthy blog post.