Episode 4: Door To The Face or Insult To Injury

Have you ever watched all those comedies where it's just one guy and door after door after door gets slammed in his face? Yeah, well that's me.

I got a letter from Disc Makers. If you read between the lines, as I did again, they had a quota to fill. This comes after I found out that my hopes of going back to school online would cost me a cool ten grand six months after I graduate...with interest. I also don't qualify for grants because I don't have a dependent...fucking wonderful. I suppose that should be no surprise. Far be it from me to do the responsible thing by rolling up the sleeves and working my ass off all these years.

I could bitch about how unfair it is, but fuck 'em. I'll study the shit on my own and just consult others who know more about this shit than I do. Later on, I'll blow through those classes out of boredom and then tank anyone else in the business. I've gotta do something.

Today was another day in shit traffic. I drove like a NASCAR racer on a meth bender into Philly just to get Pop zapped again. This time, I met his doctor. Pop made the introduction of me as "my future son-in-law" with a smile on his face. Remembering that at least gave me the boost. After I was let down by the idea of going back into debt just to become educated about what I love most, I fell into a pit of depression. Coming back to this rejection letter was further irritation. These assholes made me get up at the asscrack of fucking dawn only to not be honest with me. I hate that goddamn two-way mirror shit. Look, if I can't see through it, take that shit down and put a damn wall up. Pretty simple.

Stacking the deck only further serves to irritate me.

It's not that I can't make it five months or more without working but I don't want that. I want to wake up, get out, go to work and come home. I want the decent pay and the ability to not have to worry. Sure, I despised my old job with a nuclear capability but, the truth is, I liked the structure and halfway knowing what to expect. I didn't like what I did but at least I was good at it.

Sometimes I look back and wonder how the hell this ended up happening to me. I know what happened. I dropped out twice. Something told me the whole idea was bad a long time ago but hell, if I'd known this was going to happen, it would have been a much different story.

Part of me wants to say, "Fuck it" but the other part of me is so pissed off that I wanna kick down those doors and tell them, "Guess what...I'm hired...like it or not."

I also kinda thought the double existence thing would end too but it hasn't...it's only gotten worse. Having to stash my second identity even further into the web hole isn't helping because employers these days are making more and more use of the internet and what you're doing on your own time against you. Fuck's sake, nothing is safe anymore.

This led me to doing what I do best once I was done. I was finished and I lapsed into my bored personality...where I just start talking shit as calmly as humanly possible.

There was only one cure for what ailed me. I fired up the PSP and began randomly killing people in GTA: Vice City Stories. I went on a wanton destruction binge simply because I could.

In other news, Squatter's out. This morning I heard the handyman and a representative of the local Sheriff's Department knocking at the door of Cube 2. Misty and I had seen him hurriedly moving stuff out the night before and now, here was the wrecking crew. The handyman used his key to access the open port into Cube 2 and while the Sheriff was poking his nose around...the handyman was changing out the locks. I've since seen Squatter come back twice. Nice nasty surprise. Try messing with Pearl again, Punkass! Next time, you might not be so lucky.

One more day of sliding down the line into Philly and then I'm off for a couple of days. It's not too bad as long as I have something to entertain me but that bust of Einstein in front of Einstein Medical is starting to look more and more like Heath Ledger's Joker by the day. Weathering effects have not been kind to Albert at all.