I am 25. I’m in a grocery store, listening to Roy Dotrice read me Game of Thrones as I continuously fill and unfill a shopping cart. After neglecting to either earn an income or pay attention to my bank account for about a year, I find myself out of money for the first time since I started playing poker. Needing some cash but having no serviceable skills, I decide to get hired on to a series of low-level positions, while writing about my experiences to make it seem less sad somehow, with an eventual goal of starting my own business in one of the fields.
On an unscheduled break from my courier job, I am at the funeral for one of my friends. The preacher is trying to convince us all that on his bed of finality, his dying wish was that all of his friends follow the Lord. It is not easy to prove her wrong, because he’s dead and all, but there’s absolutely no way he said that and I want to confront her after the soliciting.
I’m at my poorest but possibly my happiest, having recently met Kelly and successfully convincing her to hang out with me. The rest of my life is a real good laugh as well.