Walmart oil change appointment

Edit: sorry for typos. I'm on mobile and my nails are longer than I like them to be. I need to file them down a little 😬
My (33F) coworker (40sM) doesn't like new changes...
I work in retail/customer service. I very much likey job, which is surprising these days. My job just had a change in management. With the changes, our new GM (30s. F) is trying out some new ideas to make more profit and minimize waste. The old GM had been there for going on 10 years and decided he was done. Out of the blue he put in his 2 week notice.
With the changes we are no longer allowed to sit down during slow times (we weren't supposed to in the first place), there's a little more work for us I'm regards to putting out specific food items, but it's really not bad at all. I've had way worse jobs. The atmosphere is really laid back, there aren't really any cliques and everyone gets along. Our GM is probably one of the best people I've had the pleasure of working for. They are very understanding and os a human, like the rest of us. They understand that things happen and is willing to work with us. They are the definition of a 'leader' and not just a boss.
Personally, I don't mind the changes. I haven't been there for very long (3 months) and I just do what I'm told and show up when I'm told to. My coworker on the other hand has been there longer. He's been there approximately 6 months.
I asked him a question about the new food items today and he looked at me as if I had a second head. He knew about them from the meeting we all had last week. It was mentioned. He's started making comments about our GM and newly appointed assistant GM (whom I will mention worked very hard for the position and deserves it, imo) about being corporate stooges and that they're sell outs. He also complained that we have more work than the other two shifts now but I think it's justified because we work overnights and get a premium by an extra 40¢.
I'm not sure what to do. I did my best to curtail the complaints with "I'm just doing what I'm told to do, don't shoot the messenger" but I'm really not wanting to listen to any more of it. I also get that it's common to want to complain but it's really not that big of a deal. How should I navigate? The comments do make me uncomfortable because while I like this coworker when we work together, I also respect my GM. They have been nothing but good to us and very understanding.
TL;DR: I (33F) am not sure how to navigate around my coworker (40M) complaining about more work and that the changes the New GM is making being corporate sell outs/stupid changes. It makes me uncomfortable.

I stared up at the magazine cut out of a Maxim model that was crudely pasted on the underside of the top bunk. Her pert breast shimmied ever so slightly as Pete tossed and turned above.
She was platinum blonde with legs long enough to wrap around me twice. Or so the camera angle made it seem. I felt a stirring below, that yearning for a woman’s touch… which I hadn’t felt in six years, three months, and eleven days.
I rolled to my side, stifling it. It was the wrong time to seek out an orgasm, and I knew after the release I’d just spiral into self-loathing anyway. I focused on a crack in the cinder block until my eyelids became heavy.
Static pushed the thought of women from my mind as I slipped into sleep. The smell of cigars and oil flitted through my mind in a memory. My dad’s repair shop. The one I was meant to take over, before the arrest…
------
“Aaaarrgghh!”
A cry echoing from somewhere deep within the prison startled me awake. My heart thundered in my chest like a rabbit thrashing against its cage.
I rolled over to see Pete crouching low, his face pressed against the bars.
“What’s going on?” I croaked.
“They’re taking Benny.” He whispered.
“Fuck, really?” I pulled myself to the top corner of my mattress, just enough to peer around the edge of the bars.
Two guards wrestled the young latino onto a gurney as a man in a lab coat watched from a distance. He fought against them but it was futile. Once the straps were locked in he screamed once more, pleading for help.
Dozens of eyes watched from dim lit cells, none of which stirring to offer assistance in the slightest. We knew there was no helping him. We knew what happened next…
His cries were muffled as the doctor jammed a syringe into the base of his neck. Benny’s muscles tensed and pulsed in the fit of a seizure, but then lay still. The cell block was silent once more as they wheeled him down the hall and into the catacombs.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray. Once they took them, they never came back.
“A damn shame…” I muttered.
“Yeah, he was a good kid…” Pete stood and leapt back onto the top bunk.
A fire burned in my chest. I wanted to say something. To cry out about the injustice of what was happening to us. That committing a crime shouldn’t damn a man to whatever terrible fate they had instore for us below three feet of steel and a quarter mile of dirt.
But I didn’t… What good could it do? Other than drawing attention to me in a very negative way.
Once they took you to the lab, you were never seen again.
All you could do was hope that your number was never called, and that you got out of here before they visited your cell late into the night.
—-----
87…88…89…90…
My chest was on fire as sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. I couldn’t go back to sleep last night. Kept thinking about Benny.
91…92…93…
So began the push-ups. It was the only way to clear my head.
94…95…96…
My therapy.
97…98…99…100.
I rolled to my back, out of breath.
Three years, six months and change.
So much time left to go.
Benny had only been here for a little over a year. It made no sense…
None of us could figure out exactly why they took who they took. There seemed to be no method to the madness.
Just a couple weeks ago they took old man Tom Finch. He’d been here longer than any of us. A lifer on the account of premeditated murder back in the 70s. But they didn’t come for him until he’d served most of his adult life behind bars.
The red beacon suddenly swirled above. A buzzing sound hummed as the cell doors clicked and slid open.
Breakfast.
—----
I pulled my tray along the bar to be loaded with oats, powdered eggs and bread.
Meager rations.
I grabbed a small carton of milk and made my way over to sit with Pete. He was already nibbling on his toast while perusing a crossword puzzle.
We exchanged nods and I went to devouring the entirety of my plate.
Calories build muscle after all.
Which was something Pete had no interest in. He was a bookworm through and through. Rail thin too. When we’d met, I’d assumed it was from the drug problem he’d had on the outside, which ultimately landed him in incarceration. But come to find out it was just his metabolism and general lack of appetite.
“John…” He whispered.
I looked up from my feast.
He was looking to the corner of the cafeteria and I followed his gaze to see two men in lab coats surveying the crowd.
I grunted and squeezed the handle of my fork until my knuckles went white. The impulse of burying it into their throats was almost overwhelming.
“Their activity has been ramping up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been seeing them much more frequently as of late. They must be close to a breakthrough.”
“Breakthrough of what?” I furrowed my brow.
“Who knows? Whatever it is they are doing down there. They’ve been taking us more often as well.”
Pete sighed at the twist of confusion on my face.
“Think about it… Benny last night, then Tom two weeks before that. Then Eric ten days before that, and Deonte maybe three weeks prior. It’s never been that close together. Until recently, they only came perhaps once every other month. Sometimes only once a season.”
Shit… he was right. I hadn’t realized it before.
“So what does that mean?” I asked, shoving another hunk of egg into my mouth.
“I have no idea. But I’d say our odds of survival have been reduced dramatically.”
—-----
Pete might as well have been an oracle, peering into our grim and desolate future.
Over the next several months we started seeing the lab coats weekly. Sometimes even more often than that.
The prison yard felt empty. Sure there were still plenty of us left, but our population had been noticeably trimmed. One gang in particular only had two members left, which didn’t bode well for them. The others slowly circled them like sharks. I had no affiliation with any of them and kept to myself. But still, I could see their fate a mile away.
Although, despite the business as usual dog eat dog atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of fear rippling through the general pop. You could smell it, like a scent of decay and desperation. Hard faces that had once promised violence, now almost flinched around every corner and jumped at each shadow.
The energy of a couple of hundred men that felt like an animal backed into a corner was palpable.
But what could we do?
I didn’t know but I sure wish someone would tell me… I threw myself into my workouts and Pete hardly ever looked up from a book. Escapism was our only reprieve.
I went to bed with a prayer on my lips, hoping I wouldn’t hear those iron bars moving in the late hours of the night.
—-----
A loud clanking followed by footsteps pulled me from sleep.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut hoping it was the cell next to mine.
But it wasn’t…
Three guards hovered behind a fourth that was unlocking our cell. The bars clicked and began to slide open.
I jumped to my feet and backed up against the wall. I pulled my fists up into a boxing stance, I wasn’t going to go without a fight. My muscles tensed and flexed like coiled steel.
“In the corner inmate! We’re here for your cellmate.” A short and stocky corrections officer barked with his hand gripping the baton at his waist.
Pete squirmed into a ball at the corner of his mat and looked at me with wide, pleading eyes.
I put my face in the opposite corner as instructed. A mixture of fear and relief roiled in my gut, and I hated myself for it. It made me feel like a coward.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I heard Pete squeal from behind as guards flooded the cell.
I peaked over my shoulder and watched as they pried him from the top bunk. Pete tried to resist, but there was nothing to him. A bag of bones that they easily wrestled down.
That same fire ignited in my chest. Anger washed over me, cleansing away the cowardice. For God’s sake, he was my only friend.
All I could see was red.
I spun around bringing the back of my fist across a guard’s face, shattering the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted from it as he dropped Pete’s legs.
With a giant step forward I brought an uppercut into the portly officer’s abdomen, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
I shoved a third into the corner, pinning him there as I screamed for Pete to run. He scampered out the opening and the last thing I heard were his footfalls as a baton smashed across the back of my skull. Everything went black before I even hit the ground.
—-----
I spent a month in solitary.
The room was so small it should have been inhumane to house a human being inside of it.
Still… I made the best of it with dips, pushups and situps. Countless reps of them. It was all I could do.
Some mornings I’d wake up with horrible migraines. I assumed it was a slight concussion from the impact of the baton.
I only hoped Pete could have somehow made it out. But somewhere deep down I knew that would have been impossible. Hopefully he at least gave them some hell before they took him below.
I stopped praying before bed. It didn’t seem like it did any good.
If there was a God, he didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
—-------
When I finally got back to my cell it had been emptied of everything. Pete’s books, artwork from his niece and even my Maxim cutout.
Just like he’d never existed. My heart sunk at the sight.
Later that day I’d learned from others that he had been captured just moments after escaping the cell.
But our actions weren’t wasted in vain.
We were the first to fight back against the abduction and it sparked something in the others.
They started talks of an uprising a few weeks back. A prison riot.
They even had a guard on the inside. C.O. Matthews. He was a very religious man and was just as horrified by what was happening as we were and had been looking for a way to help.
“It’s going down tonight John, just before lights out. Be ready.” Jerry whispered at the picnic table.
I gave a nod that I understood and headed off for my daily jog around the courts.
It wasn’t about getting out. Getting free. That wasn’t going to happen. It was about sending a message.
I let my mind go blank, filling with static as I enjoyed what could be my last day outside.
—------
The beacon swirled overhead in the common area.
“Inmates to their cells. Lights out.” The intercom buzzed.
There were over fifty men in cell block B, and not a single one of us moved.
The voice on the intercom repeated himself angrily as guards began to shuffle in closer. Nods passed like dominoes from one inmate to the next. We were ready.
“Get to your cell inmate.” a guard growled as he clamped his hands down on my shoulders.
I threw an elbow behind me into his groin, he howled in pain as he hit the floor. The other inmates sprung to their feet and flew off from their leaning places to join in the brawl.
Fists, feet and batons flew wildly across the cell block as we engaged in war with the uniformed officers.
I grappled with one until I was able to submit him in a choke until he went limp in my arms.
I stomped another in the face, spilling blood and brains on the concrete floor.
It had looked like we were winning until they sent the special response team in. We formed a line, many of us battered and bloody, in front of the row of riot shields.
We waited for their charge for what felt like an eternity.
But suddenly they backed out from where they’d come and slid the cell block doors closed.
What the hell…
The red beacon swirled once again overhead as a clicking sounded out behind us.
The rear entrance that the lab coats had always used swung open. I spun around to see…
“Mary, mother of God.” I gasped.
It was Pete…
But there was something horribly wrong with him.
His skin clung loosely to his body and had a terrible jaundice looking hue to it. His eyes almost seemed to glow and his hands… they were impossibly large like contorted branches.
I held my hand up to my mouth in disbelief.
A scientist stepped out from behind him.
“As you can see, we have a few kinks left to iron out, but we are making great progress. Would you all care to see what he can do?” He looked into each of our eyes inquisitively.
“If you don’t, head back to your cells now. You have ten seconds and then I shall release him.”
It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. But a violent and hungry energy filled the room, emanating from what used to be my friend.
Suddenly, over half the remaining inmates bolted for their cells out of fear. Not that I could blame them, my knees wobbled and threatened to buckle just at the sight of him.
But I stood my ground, as did a handful of others.
“Very well then. Specimen 3-1-0, engage.”
A growl reverberated through the cell block.
“Everyone rush him at once! It’s our only shot.” I hollered.
And we did, but it didn’t matter. It happened so fast. It was over before I could even comprehend it.
He moved like an animal, picking each of us apart almost in unison.
I lay on my back, unable to feel my legs as I watched Jerry be disemboweled. He was trying to shove his intestines back inside the tear in his abdomen before the creature came back to finish him off.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray.
As Pete stood over me, with dead eyes, I knew there was no God.
He didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.

I stared up at the magazine cut out of a Maxim model that was crudely pasted on the underside of the top bunk. Her pert breast shimmied ever so slightly as Pete tossed and turned above.
She was platinum blonde with legs long enough to wrap around me twice. Or so the camera angle made it seem. I felt a stirring below, that yearning for a woman’s touch… which I hadn’t felt in six years, three months, and eleven days.
I rolled to my side, stifling it. It was the wrong time to seek out an orgasm, and I knew after the release I’d just spiral into self-loathing anyway. I focused on a crack in the cinder block until my eyelids became heavy.
Static pushed the thought of women from my mind as I slipped into sleep. The smell of cigars and oil flitted through my mind in a memory. My dad’s repair shop. The one I was meant to take over, before the arrest…
------
“Aaaarrgghh!”
A cry echoing from somewhere deep within the prison startled me awake. My heart thundered in my chest like a rabbit thrashing against its cage.
I rolled over to see Pete crouching low, his face pressed against the bars.
“What’s going on?” I croaked.
“They’re taking Benny.” He whispered.
“Fuck, really?” I pulled myself to the top corner of my mattress, just enough to peer around the edge of the bars.
Two guards wrestled the young latino onto a gurney as a man in a lab coat watched from a distance. He fought against them but it was futile. Once the straps were locked in he screamed once more, pleading for help.
Dozens of eyes watched from dim lit cells, none of which stirring to offer assistance in the slightest. We knew there was no helping him. We knew what happened next…
His cries were muffled as the doctor jammed a syringe into the base of his neck. Benny’s muscles tensed and pulsed in the fit of a seizure, but then lay still. The cell block was silent once more as they wheeled him down the hall and into the catacombs.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray. Once they took them, they never came back.
“A damn shame…” I muttered.
“Yeah, he was a good kid…” Pete stood and leapt back onto the top bunk.
A fire burned in my chest. I wanted to say something. To cry out about the injustice of what was happening to us. That committing a crime shouldn’t damn a man to whatever terrible fate they had instore for us below three feet of steel and a quarter mile of dirt.
But I didn’t… What good could it do? Other than drawing attention to me in a very negative way.
Once they took you to the lab, you were never seen again.
All you could do was hope that your number was never called, and that you got out of here before they visited your cell late into the night.
—-----
87…88…89…90…
My chest was on fire as sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. I couldn’t go back to sleep last night. Kept thinking about Benny.
91…92…93…
So began the push-ups. It was the only way to clear my head.
94…95…96…
My therapy.
97…98…99…100.
I rolled to my back, out of breath.
Three years, six months and change.
So much time left to go.
Benny had only been here for a little over a year. It made no sense…
None of us could figure out exactly why they took who they took. There seemed to be no method to the madness.
Just a couple weeks ago they took old man Tom Finch. He’d been here longer than any of us. A lifer on the account of premeditated murder back in the 70s. But they didn’t come for him until he’d served most of his adult life behind bars.
The red beacon suddenly swirled above. A buzzing sound hummed as the cell doors clicked and slid open.
Breakfast.
—----
I pulled my tray along the bar to be loaded with oats, powdered eggs and bread.
Meager rations.
I grabbed a small carton of milk and made my way over to sit with Pete. He was already nibbling on his toast while perusing a crossword puzzle.
We exchanged nods and I went to devouring the entirety of my plate.
Calories build muscle after all.
Which was something Pete had no interest in. He was a bookworm through and through. Rail thin too. When we’d met, I’d assumed it was from the drug problem he’d had on the outside, which ultimately landed him in incarceration. But come to find out it was just his metabolism and general lack of appetite.
“John…” He whispered.
I looked up from my feast.
He was looking to the corner of the cafeteria and I followed his gaze to see two men in lab coats surveying the crowd.
I grunted and squeezed the handle of my fork until my knuckles went white. The impulse of burying it into their throats was almost overwhelming.
“Their activity has been ramping up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been seeing them much more frequently as of late. They must be close to a breakthrough.”
“Breakthrough of what?” I furrowed my brow.
“Who knows? Whatever it is they are doing down there. They’ve been taking us more often as well.”
Pete sighed at the twist of confusion on my face.
“Think about it… Benny last night, then Tom two weeks before that. Then Eric ten days before that, and Deonte maybe three weeks prior. It’s never been that close together. Until recently, they only came perhaps once every other month. Sometimes only once a season.”
Shit… he was right. I hadn’t realized it before.
“So what does that mean?” I asked, shoving another hunk of egg into my mouth.
“I have no idea. But I’d say our odds of survival have been reduced dramatically.”
—-----
Pete might as well have been an oracle, peering into our grim and desolate future.
Over the next several months we started seeing the lab coats weekly. Sometimes even more often than that.
The prison yard felt empty. Sure there were still plenty of us left, but our population had been noticeably trimmed. One gang in particular only had two members left, which didn’t bode well for them. The others slowly circled them like sharks. I had no affiliation with any of them and kept to myself. But still, I could see their fate a mile away.
Although, despite the business as usual dog eat dog atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of fear rippling through the general pop. You could smell it, like a scent of decay and desperation. Hard faces that had once promised violence, now almost flinched around every corner and jumped at each shadow.
The energy of a couple of hundred men that felt like an animal backed into a corner was palpable.
But what could we do?
I didn’t know but I sure wish someone would tell me… I threw myself into my workouts and Pete hardly ever looked up from a book. Escapism was our only reprieve.
I went to bed with a prayer on my lips, hoping I wouldn’t hear those iron bars moving in the late hours of the night.
—-----
A loud clanking followed by footsteps pulled me from sleep.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut hoping it was the cell next to mine.
But it wasn’t…
Three guards hovered behind a fourth that was unlocking our cell. The bars clicked and began to slide open.
I jumped to my feet and backed up against the wall. I pulled my fists up into a boxing stance, I wasn’t going to go without a fight. My muscles tensed and flexed like coiled steel.
“In the corner inmate! We’re here for your cellmate.” A short and stocky corrections officer barked with his hand gripping the baton at his waist.
Pete squirmed into a ball at the corner of his mat and looked at me with wide, pleading eyes.
I put my face in the opposite corner as instructed. A mixture of fear and relief roiled in my gut, and I hated myself for it. It made me feel like a coward.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I heard Pete squeal from behind as guards flooded the cell.
I peaked over my shoulder and watched as they pried him from the top bunk. Pete tried to resist, but there was nothing to him. A bag of bones that they easily wrestled down.
That same fire ignited in my chest. Anger washed over me, cleansing away the cowardice. For God’s sake, he was my only friend.
All I could see was red.
I spun around bringing the back of my fist across a guard’s face, shattering the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted from it as he dropped Pete’s legs.
With a giant step forward I brought an uppercut into the portly officer’s abdomen, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
I shoved a third into the corner, pinning him there as I screamed for Pete to run. He scampered out the opening and the last thing I heard were his footfalls as a baton smashed across the back of my skull. Everything went black before I even hit the ground.
—-----
I spent a month in solitary.
The room was so small it should have been inhumane to house a human being inside of it.
Still… I made the best of it with dips, pushups and situps. Countless reps of them. It was all I could do.
Some mornings I’d wake up with horrible migraines. I assumed it was a slight concussion from the impact of the baton.
I only hoped Pete could have somehow made it out. But somewhere deep down I knew that would have been impossible. Hopefully he at least gave them some hell before they took him below.
I stopped praying before bed. It didn’t seem like it did any good.
If there was a God, he didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.
—-------
When I finally got back to my cell it had been emptied of everything. Pete’s books, artwork from his niece and even my Maxim cutout.
Just like he’d never existed. My heart sunk at the sight.
Later that day I’d learned from others that he had been captured just moments after escaping the cell.
But our actions weren’t wasted in vain.
We were the first to fight back against the abduction and it sparked something in the others.
They started talks of an uprising a few weeks back. A prison riot.
They even had a guard on the inside. C.O. Matthews. He was a very religious man and was just as horrified by what was happening as we were and had been looking for a way to help.
“It’s going down tonight John, just before lights out. Be ready.” Jerry whispered at the picnic table.
I gave a nod that I understood and headed off for my daily jog around the courts.
It wasn’t about getting out. Getting free. That wasn’t going to happen. It was about sending a message.
I let my mind go blank, filling with static as I enjoyed what could be my last day outside.
—------
The beacon swirled overhead in the common area.
“Inmates to their cells. Lights out.” The intercom buzzed.
There were over fifty men in cell block B, and not a single one of us moved.
The voice on the intercom repeated himself angrily as guards began to shuffle in closer. Nods passed like dominoes from one inmate to the next. We were ready.
“Get to your cell inmate.” a guard growled as he clamped his hands down on my shoulders.
I threw an elbow behind me into his groin, he howled in pain as he hit the floor. The other inmates sprung to their feet and flew off from their leaning places to join in the brawl.
Fists, feet and batons flew wildly across the cell block as we engaged in war with the uniformed officers.
I grappled with one until I was able to submit him in a choke until he went limp in my arms.
I stomped another in the face, spilling blood and brains on the concrete floor.
It had looked like we were winning until they sent the special response team in. We formed a line, many of us battered and bloody, in front of the row of riot shields.
We waited for their charge for what felt like an eternity.
But suddenly they backed out from where they’d come and slid the cell block doors closed.
What the hell…
The red beacon swirled once again overhead as a clicking sounded out behind us.
The rear entrance that the lab coats had always used swung open. I spun around to see…
“Mary, mother of God.” I gasped.
It was Pete…
But there was something horribly wrong with him.
His skin clung loosely to his body and had a terrible jaundice looking hue to it. His eyes almost seemed to glow and his hands… they were impossibly large like contorted branches.
I held my hand up to my mouth in disbelief.
A scientist stepped out from behind him.
“As you can see, we have a few kinks left to iron out, but we are making great progress. Would you all care to see what he can do?” He looked into each of our eyes inquisitively.
“If you don’t, head back to your cells now. You have ten seconds and then I shall release him.”
It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. But a violent and hungry energy filled the room, emanating from what used to be my friend.
Suddenly, over half the remaining inmates bolted for their cells out of fear. Not that I could blame them, my knees wobbled and threatened to buckle just at the sight of him.
But I stood my ground, as did a handful of others.
“Very well then. Specimen 3-1-0, engage.”
A growl reverberated through the cell block.
“Everyone rush him at once! It’s our only shot.” I hollered.
And we did, but it didn’t matter. It happened so fast. It was over before I could even comprehend it.
He moved like an animal, picking each of us apart almost in unison.
I lay on my back, unable to feel my legs as I watched Jerry be disemboweled. He was trying to shove his intestines back inside the tear in his abdomen before the creature came back to finish him off.
I did a cross over myself but didn’t bother to pray.
As Pete stood over me, with dead eyes, I knew there was no God.
He didn’t exist inside these walls.
We were abandoned.
The unheard.

I was recently diagnosed with adult adhd (59f)....yes, I waited a long time to get help. My doctor has put me on Concerta and I'm not for sure how I feel about it. I honestly feel like it's making my anxiety worse but I do know that she has to find something that will not mess with my Effexor (spelling?). I was prescribed it 15 years ago when I was going through depression after being diagnosed with breast cancer in the middle of my divorce. I have a follow up appointment with her in two weeks but wondering if I should go ahead and say something to her? Or should I give it more time?
Also, this is the first time that I've been active on Reddit so I'm not familiar with it. How can I change my handle??
Thanks!

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Portion control aids in the balancing of your macronutrients, which are made up mostly of carbs, protein, and fat in food. For optimum health, you require a specific quantity of each macronutrient. Each macronutrient has a unique function and role in your body. Portion control makes it possible to consume the recommended amounts of each macronutrient without going overboard.
You can appreciate your food better if you manage your portions. It's possible to overlook the flavor, texture, and perfume of your food when you eat excessively or quickly. Following a meal, you could also feel sluggish, uneasy, or guilty. Portion management encourages you to take your time and savor each bite of food, which increases satisfaction and enjoyment.
What exactly is portion control and why is it important?
A crucial skill to develop is portion management if you want to consume healthy food and regulate your weight. Portion control entails paying attention to how much food you are consuming and selecting the right serving sizes. By using visual clues to estimate the right amount of food you should eat, portion control can be successfully incorporated into your daily routine. Utilizing visual cues will help you determine the ideal serving size for your specific requirements.
For example
A serving of grains should be the size of your fist or a serving of cheese should be the size of your thumb, and a serving of meat or fish should be roughly the size of your hand. To put less food on them, you can also use smaller plates and bowls. Planning your meals and snacks in advance and adhering to them is another method of practicing portion management.
You can portion out your food using measuring spoons and cups and store it in bags or containers. By doing this, you can prevent eating carelessly and taking more food than you require. By controlling your portions, you can eat a variety of meals without feeling restricted or guilty.
You can maintain a healthy weight and balance your energy intake and expenditure with its assistance. Not missing meals or starving yourself are not part of portion control; rather, it is about mindfully and moderately eating.
How to use portion control in everyday life
- When serving food at home, use smaller bowls and plates. This can assist you in putting less food on your plate while deceiving your brain into thinking you are eating more.
- When measuring ingredients for a recipe, use scales, measuring cups, or spoons. By doing this, you can prevent your cuisine from becoming overly fatty and calorie-dense by not using excessive amounts of oil, butter, sugar, salt, or other components.
- Before beginning to eat when dining out, get a to-go box and bag half of your food for later. You can use this to prevent overeating while also saving money.
- Track your calorie intake and portion sizes using an app or website. You can track your food and drink intake and see how many calories you are taking in with the help of a variety of tools and services. MyFitnessPal, Lose It!, CalorieKing, etc. are a few examples.
- Sip a lot of water both before and during meals. This can make you feel fuller more quickly and stop dehydration. Avoid consuming alcohol or sugary beverages because they can increase your hunger and add extra calories.
Conclusion
You can practice portion control in your regular meals by following the advice I gave you in this blog post. Portion control benefits your general health and well-being in addition to your waistline. You may avoid overeating, cut down on food waste, and savor your meals more. Finding the ideal balance and moderation for your body and way of life is what portion control is all about not starving yourself of the things you love.
We sincerely hope you found this answer to be insightful and helpful. I would love to hear from you whether you want to try portion control or if you already practice it regularly.
Please share your thoughts, questions, or experiences with portion control. for more such content checkout Planto Meals
Thanks for reading, happy eating!

Now, I have an appointment schedule pending with an ENT but I’m just kinda paranoid and researching symptoms hasn’t really brought me to any conclusions myself.
Three or so months ago, after overusing my voice, I lost it for a bit. After about three weeks, it came back fully aside from, like, some higher notes I used to be able to reach and it stayed like this for a while. Talking was fine unless I did it wayyyy to long but I think that’s normal. In the passing months, my voice began to fatigue more. I could sing fine, it all sounded fine, it just got tired way more easily? Like, I could sing for 15 or so minutes before I needed to take a break for a couple minutes when before, I could go on for much longer.
This past week, though, it randomly got kinda raspy and I feel strain after talking for a while or singing at all. My voice isn’t really hoarse. A tad breathy at times perhaps but it’s not consistent. I’ve been keeping silent for most hours of the day this past week but occasionally, I’ll test out my voice with a couple lines of a song and on most days, the quality of the sound is fine, my voice just feels sore and fatigued. And it’s not consistently raspy. Some days, my voice sounds normal but just hurts if I talk too much, like there’s something caught in my throat. Others, it has a more breathy quality. With the rest this past week, my voice became a little stronger but this morning, I again woke up with my voice kinda raspy. Also, idk if this is relevant but there’s a chance I have anemia(I’m getting tested for that too) and as my voice has been fatiguing, I’ve also been getting progressively more tired in general and my ability to sing/dance while I sing has decreased in an energy sense and idk if that’s related or helpful information at all but yah.
Also, what is considered catching something “early”. Cause, like, I was looking up stuff about vocal nodules and these websites always say “It’s best if you catch it early” but give no general span of time. Perhaps it’s less of a time thing since it may vary depending on how much you’re singing, idk.
I know I should’ve done something about this months ago but my family has a very, “Eh, it’s probably nothing, just wait it out, these things take time to heal,” mindset about things and as I said, my voice was fine for the most part, just a little fatigued and a couple higher notes had been lost, so I convinced myself it was probably nothing. Ugh. Also I’m sorry if this isn’t the right place to ask about this thing, obviously, you guys aren’t doctors(and as I said, I’m in the process of getting an appointment with one), I’m just obsessive about this stuff and I need to spew it out somewhere in a generally productive direction cause it’s been bouncing around my head incessantly all morning and pretty much all past mornings. Literally researching the same information as if it would’ve changed since the last time I looked it up five minutes ago, oy vey.

Oil and gas pipelines are an important part of the infrastructure that powers our world. However, these pipelines can be difficult to inspect due to their size and location. In recent years, drone technology has become a valuable tool for inspecting oil and gas pipelines safely and efficiently. This article will explore how drones help with this task.
The Basics of Pipeline Inspection:
Before discussing how drones help with pipeline inspection, it is important to understand the basics of this process. Generally speaking, there are two main types of inspections – visual inspections (VIs) and non-destructive testing (NDT).
Visual Inspection involves using cameras or other imaging devices to identify any damage or corrosion on the outside surface of a pipe while Non-Destructive Testing involves using specialized equipment such as ultrasonic sensors to detect internal flaws within a pipe’s walls. Both methods have their advantages but they both require personnel on site which can be dangerous depending on the environment surrounding the pipeline being inspected.
The Benefits of Using Drones for Pipeline Inspection:
By removing people from hazardous environments during inspections you reduce risk significantly.
Save money by reducing labor costs associated with manual inspections.
Increase in accuracy since drones offer better visibility than humans when it comes to identifying defects.
Reduce your environmental footprint since no fuel needs to be burned in order for inspectors reach remote locations where pipelines may run through environmentally sensitive areas like forests or wetlands.
Conclusion: In conclusion, drone technology provides numerous benefits when it comes to inspecting oil & gas pipelines including improved safety, cost savings, increased accuracy / efficiency, reduced environmental impact etc. By leveraging this powerful tool companies can ensure that their assets remain safe & operational without putting workers at any risk.
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Note: I am not a doctor, I am no expert on the hooha barring my own. This is just advice I got that changed the game for me, and may be helpful to someone else!--I had bv for an embarrassingly long time. Nothing I did would get it gone and keep it gone. Finally, I had an appointment with my gyno who explained a few things to me. This subreddit has been such a help and I want to share what I learned with y'all:

• According to my gyno, Boric Acid is not a great treatment for BV, but an effective treatment for recurring yeast infections. He said Boric Acid cannot be a permanent solution for BV. He warned me against using it regularly considering my age and health profile [I have other health issues that would not interact well with regular use of BA].
• Vinegar douches. I know douches have a terrible reputation on this site and in general, but I figured I would try it for the first time under the guidance of my doctor. My gyno recommended I douche with a 1/2 vinegar, 1/2 water solution every day for a week and that my partner put some of the same solution on his junk every time he comes out of the shower [also for a week]. 3 weeks later, I'm a new woman. I used the summer's eve douche but my gyno said you can make your own solution if you so choose.
• My gyno also gave me prescriptions for antibiotics, creams, and the like for BV treatments, but encouraged me to try the vinegar douche first. He said that in all cases, BV has a 50% chance of recurring and that the pills can cause upset stomach, nausea, etc. He said that medication will help, but that restoring an acidic ph to my lady bits would be the most crucial part of addressing the smell. He said that for such a high recurrence rate, the pills and the creams could be a discouraging process and to try. It worked for me and I wanted to share!

Hope this helps!

Yesterday morning, my guinea pig suddenly was making breathing problem sounds (sounded like her nose was clogged). It was pretty loud, and went on for like a few hours. She even seemed to sneeze a few times too. I made an appointment with the vet for the next day (aka today)
however, that was the only symptoms she had. she still ate, walked around, drank like normal. after the 1st 3 hours of yesterday, throughout the rest of the day she stopped making that noise and even up to now, this morning, the noise is gone and she’s not sneezing or anything. She just seems completely back to normal.
Is it okay that i cancel the appointment? Do you think she is out of the woods? And what could’ve caused her to experience that in the first place/what can I do to prevent her from experiencing that again? There was no particular change in her environment or anything like that.

In early April I had my first kidney stone. It was literally the worst pain in my life (even hemorrhaging after my c-section does not compare). I had it removed and a stint put it that I had to remove a couple days later (honestly, I removed it after a couple hours of being at home because I couldn’t stand the feeling). On May 31st, I had my follow-up appointment where I found out the composition was 100% calcium phosphate. They did an ultrasound on both my kidneys and an x-ray. The x-ray showed an 8 mm stone at the base of one of my kidneys. They said that there is a chance it won’t move from there since it would have to defy gravity to move out of the kidney. I may be worrying myself, but I’ve been having some lingering back pain since yesterday. It is important to note that my husband, and I just moved on the first, so it may be moving pains; however, the back pain just started yesterday. Am I worried for nothing? Do you think the stone has moved, or is it moving pains? Also, they told me what not to eat to prevent stones, but they didn’t really tell me what I could eat. They also told me a lot about calcium oxalate stones and what to avoid, but not much on calcium phosphate. Does anybody have a go to list on what I can and cannot eat for calcium phosphate stones? I know I need to decrease sodium, but how much can I have a day? I go back in three months to see if the stone has moved any or has changed size or if there are any new friends. I have anxiety, and I think I may have been better off not knowing there was another one. Edit for an additional question: I was told that it would help if I increase my water intake, which honestly is not what it should be. If I drastically change my water intake, could that dislodge the stone?

Recently purchased a b6 2010 Passat Wagon with 120k miles. It occasionally makes an odd noise when pulling off from a full stop. My daughter described it best... sounds like a dolphin. Noise only lasts a second or two. No detectable slippage and the shifts are clean and noise free otherwise. I have VCDS and have done the adaptation resets with no effect on the noise. I cannot duplicate the noise consistently, but seems to be more likely to happen when the engine is cold. On the full scan, VCDS detected no errors. I'm going to change the transmission oil/filter, but if that doesn't help, where else should I look.

Seeing if anyone else has experienced this and how things work out
I'm FTM and get an injection every 3 weeks at my GP practice. Due to a change in address, I am no longer within the location boundaries of this surgery, so need to change to a closer GP.
This makes me really anxious as I rely on getting my injection every 3 weeks and am concerned about how this will be impacted by the change - in terms of getting my prescription and nurse appointments to get the injection. I've never experienced this before so am unsure of how things work.
Does my patient data get transferred to the new surgery so they have an idea of things when I register or will I need to book an appointment and re-explain everything to get my injections set back up again to resume treatment?
If the latter is the case, what happens if I can not get everything sorted out again in time for the routine injection, is this typical?
For info I've been on testosterone privately for 4 years and have had 2 GIC appointments, my diagnosis and treatment has been confirmed by GIC, so hopefully there would be no problem with doctors providing my T prescription?

So this is long and ongoing. I’m a 35 year old man. A year ago my father passed away so my wife and I up’ed sticks and moved in with my mother so I could look after her. We had our issues with her lying to her doctors about her health issues. She would complain all week about things and during the appointment she would lie and say she was fine. When I started telling her doctors the truth she would lash out and say some pretty messed up stuff. She would lie to her physical therapists about her workouts. Gush about how much I did for her in public then claimed I wasn’t doing anything for her in private. Eventually everything came to a head when she demanded that I stay with her “every waking minute” because she was a fall risk. This caused my wife to haul off and tear her a new one. Rather than sitting down and taking things out, my em decided to take off. I made it clear we would still look after her should she change her mind and she said that the house is yours make it yours. So my wife and I started to lay down roots there. Soon after we got a call from Em saying she decided to sell the house. We offered to buy it and were told that she didn’t want to sell to us because of our fight. Served us with eviction and took us to court. The whole family thinks she’s lost it and we are currently living in a hotel. Had to leave a lot of stuff out

So, I just bought my first bike last week, it's a 1980 GS850L. The bike is in great shape, runs beautiful and really just has a few small things to take care of like bleeding all the brakes, new front master cylinder diaphragm, loose clutch; really minor things. The other day I noticed it has an oil leak around the #1 tube, not major, but enough that it drips and burns when running. My real question is: how difficult is it to change the head gasket and all on this engine? I have a great bike shop up the road I could take it to, but I also feel capable of doing it myself, and I'd obviously like to save money if i can. I do work industrial maintenance for a living, but small engines are foreign territory for me. Any advice really?
Thanks in advance, and sorry if this is a trivial question. I've watched a few videos online and have the original manual. I suppose my main hesitation is I don't have much experience in small engines.

To say I’m upset would be the understatement of the century. I’ve been dealing with whatever this sickness is since late April of this year. It’s all the standard strep throat symptoms you would expect (major fatigue, muscle weakness/aches, sore throat, tonsillitis, fever, general malaise) the catch is I’ve now had six strep tests and four Covid swaps in the last two months and every time they come back negative. A little over two weeks ago the doctor I went to put on me a very strong and aggressive antibiotic which seemed to help for a few days but then two days ago I woke up feeling horrible again (my worst nightmare). He’s getting me a referral to see an ear, nose and throat specialist to see what’s going on but knowing how f-ed up and slow the the healthcare system is here in the US I have no idea how long it’s going to take until I can set up an appointment to see them. It’s starting to make me angry that everyone from my family to the doctor keeps telling me to just “wait a little longer” it feels so condescending and patronizing to hear this when I’ve already been sick for so long. I haven’t hung out with my friends in over a month because of how bad I feel and I’m having to cancel a lot of events and activities that I had planned out months ago and spent a fairly decent chunk of change on concert tickets that I’m now going to have to sell. Not to mention looking for jobs and studying is out of the question right now too. I’m finding it really hard to not become hopelessly depressed knowing that everything good in my life is passing me by. I mostly just came here to vent but any advice would be appreciated.