My roomlord finally offered me some chocolate cherries they’ve been keeping in the freezer and, subsequently, the dining room. I took one and he told me to take the whole bowl. I told him I couldn’t eat it all, but thanks. Joke’s on him, I’ve been eating them all along.
I applied to Medi-Cal and got accepted, then rejected. I’ve been getting mad mail from the Department of Public Social Services and I’m sure my roomlord and his wife are like, what the fuck, but I don’t think we’re at the comfortableness of talking about my lack of healthcare yet. Maybe a few more birthday parties.
But, really, at my income level right now, I’m unqualified for Medi-Cal. Is this measly shit I’m making supposed to afford me healthcare elsewhere? I’m getting paid $11/hr and working 30-something hours every week. I thought I could be doing more with life, but I guess I’ve made it. Gee, thanks America. I feel really… free.
Quicker updates:
Mediocre White Guy #1 got fired at work.
I am making friends.
Job is sustainable.
I got a California driver’s license.
I’m going to see Princess Nokia next week.
A STOR¥ BY ? 