Posted: 2026-01-20

🔗 Denizens of the Fulcrum

My apartment is nicknamed The Fulcrum. It even has signs:

This is Greg.

He's always been called Greg. He's a pretty cool guy, but he's getting on a bit. Some people think he's had his day, but he absolutely serves files fine — just a little slower than many. But he quietly hums along and contributes year after year.

So anyway, a ladyfriend was staying the night, and I'd left my desk fan on next to the bed. She decided Greg was lonely:

She named it Debora From Accounts: even when you turn her on, all you get is frigid (but you can put her under the desk and she'll blow you).

My partner's appliance-naming rampage continued:

Sometimes Steve is really warm, but other times he's a bit cool. He has an insane salary.

Thomas is incredibly dedicated to his job of making a single cup of rice, slowly and perfectly, over and over. The others call him The Monk.

Boris is a stout man of few words who fries a mean chicken tender. He does not get on with Debora, though nobody really knows why. They stay at opposite ends of the space. When asked about it, he said "frigid bitch."

Nobody knows his name. He never speaks a word, not even to tell you the time. He always does his job without giving a single indication of how or when it'll be done.

This is the graphic designer. She might ask you to call her either Amelia or Solace depending on how she's feeling that day. She's a bit scattered and inconsistent, but the one thing that is an absolute constant is that she makes the same Bolognese for lunch every day.

🔗 Checkin

Version: 1

Written: 2026-01-20

Written on: 7.5mg olanzapine since 2025-11-11

Mental health was: poor - estimate 25% brain