06/23/2004 - 1:46 p.m. | AH WHY AM I SO POOR

I don't know if it's some sort of subconscious kink I've got, but I have the hardest time running the simplest errands, I swear. I got up today, went to McKinley to get my meds, and find out why they only gave me 12 of the damn things the last time. "Are you a Summer II student?" "Not here, I'm not." "Well, then your refill will cost $43." "Do you--" "No, we don't accept insurance." "Well, can I talk to Dr. Robin?" "$143." Fine, fuck off. I go to Schnucks then to have them fill my prescription ($10!), and I start making calls. "Well, we only gave you 15 pills the one time because blah blah blah the government... right-wing fascists... $87." So, these extra 15 pills are I guess floating out there for me on the Internet or something, but I do not feel it is likely that I shall ever see them, let alone taste their delicious mind-soothing powers.

While we're on the topic of internet floaters, I ran to the bank to deposit some money for tuition and books (which I will mostly likely have to use instead to eat) and asked about the status of missing check from father. No one has any idea what I'm talking about, and I guess the entire bank is run in a Flash animation, I'm not sure. The teller (not the cute one!) tries to look at my most recent deposits or something ("But, it didn't actually get deposited, see? That's the problem!" *ignore*), but I think it kept playing "All Your Base," so he had to go run and get his supervisor. And then she was all horrid and loud like, "DO YOU HAVE DIRECTOR OPEN?!" I ran upstairs (well, elevated upstairs) and got the half-Asian detective on the case. I expect another call soon. "Yeah, I'm afraid some sort of primitve dinosaur creature ate your check, and we've been chasing it through time trying to catch it, but he's also got the Pope with him, and though senile, he's a powerful man.... $43."

There is also a wicked subplot where the Devil doesn't want me to have any money ever. At all. I don't buy anything at all anymore besides food and the occasional movie ticket, and somehow I'm down to begging for alms. So I just deposited this "book" money, and I'm walking out to my car, and the right front tire is flat again. It had a slow leak before, but I thought this was all fixed ($15!). So, vaguely remembering that there might be some sort of guarantee on the shit, I go back to Farm & Fleet. They look at it for a few. "Sorry, we can't fix that. You're gonna need a new tire." Oh. $60.somethingkickintheface. And there are a still a slew of bills I haven't actually paid for yet, as well as the aforementioned books and tuition, as well as Old 97's tickets that somebody needs to buy and soon, and SOMEONE KEEPS USING ALL OF MY CONDITIONER I SWEAR THERE WAS A THIRD OF A BOTTLE THE ONE DAY AND FOUR FUCKING PLOPS THE NEXT, and I would be a lot more relaxed if my damn job would actually pay me, but you'll understand if I'm just a little perturbed, won't you? I'm eating nothing but sawdust until I get paid.

Theoretically, I shall be making even more soon, since I got the job at Hot Topic, and they seem amazingly flexible and... Giggle giggle giggle giggle. What the fuck is going on? I just want some money!