I looked at two apartments today. They were ok. I'm hoping to move out in the next couple of weeks. I can't take this shelter bullshit anymore. Everyday I come “home” to a bunch of ingnorant, ex-convict, trash talking, errogant assholes. And that's just the staff. Then there's the “residents”, the ones that live there. They act just like the staff, except they don't have jobs. I'm fuckin sick of that place. I haven't saved up as much money as I would've liked, but I need to get out.
“This train conversation keeps passing me by.”
Andre, my old roommate had gotten kicked out about four days ago. He slept on the trains most of the time. He's a soldier, that's for sure. When I was kicked out, I got a fuckin hotel room. Fuck that. I've slept on the streets, on the trains, in buses. I wasn't going to do that again. Especially if I had money.
I really don't feel like working today. Tommorow's payday, I hope I got my raise. I don't I did. There's supervisors that have been waiting for months and still, nothing. I need that money, I need to look for another job, or a part time gig. The only problem is I need to keep getting on stage. That's a must. That's my therapy. I can't give that up. I started working on my act last night, just jotting down ideas. I have tons of material I haven't even tried out yet. There's an open mic tonight at Glady's, but I'm working. I just got my new schedule and I can get on stage twice next week on Monday and Wednesday. I'm happy for that. Plus I hope I can find an apartment by then so I can get back whenever I feel like it. Andre is supposed to look at one tonight. Right now he's getting some legal matters resolved. I hope we find something together, that sure will help on the rent, that's for sure. Ok, I better do something productive while I'm online, maybe some beastiality porn. See ya!