well, alright

this is what people mean when they talk about cryptocurrency, right?

tfw you get back from seeing the shape of water. 

“I got the idea after noticing dogs look kind of like long balloons all twisted up.”

“If all this stuff is here because the basement is farther away than the dungeon, then maybe we should just make THAT the dungeon.”

and that’s the only reason i bought it. they make not having it feel so criminal, so dastardly. they fine you for being uninsured. i didn’t buy health insurance, i’m paying protection fees to the government so they don’t come into my house and take me away in the middle of the night. it’s lamb blood i’m smearing on my apartment door so the angel of death doesn’t wipe out my joke of a savings account. my health insurance is like a document i bought down at the docks from a guy with a code name in a dark alley. 

“you are now david fischer, a 32 year old architect from tempe, arizona. this document will allow you to pass normally, but you must never use it! lest you raise the suspicion of the authorities! for you see, the real david fischer perished in a building collapse 24 years ago. guy had great teeth, it’s how they identified him. also, you’re technically married to a 58 year old woman in flagstaff now.”

normally when you buy things you shop around, you know? i do comparative shopping when i’m buying a damn travel toothbrush. no such luck with something as mundane as the thing that will determine whether or not you’re invisible to doctors. you’re kind of boxed in. weighing the pros and cons of the plans in my price range was like that meme you see online with the triangle that’s like, “pick two” and then the three options are like, “hot, smart, rich.” it was like anticipating the ironic shitty twist a genie’ll try and put on your wish. 

this plan let’s you see a doctor three times a year, but he texts everything you tell him to your ex and current crush. this plan’s only doctor is completely free and provides any service or referral you could want, but he lives on the tallest mountain and is racist. this plan is pretty chill, but they’ll only help you out after you spend a few thousand dollars out-of-pocket first, just to see if you have money i guess? this plan straight up sucks ass, but check out their cute millenial app, it comes with a pedometer! 

i was looking at this plan that offered you like, a box of bandaids delivered to your old work every 10 years or some dumb bullshit and one of their perks was being able to text a doctor at any time. 

which, first of all, no. no real doctor is sitting around looking at their phone like, “i’m glad i went to medical school so this 26 year old could dm me a pic of a mole he thinks is cancer at 2am. really wish there were more doctor related emojis, ‘syringe filled with blood’ is kind of situational.” you just gave smarter child a link to web md.

the worst part is that the plans for the uber rich are on the same market place so you can see all the stuff that could save your life that you could never afford. “ambulance drivers take hidden access tunnels to hospital. we only use blood from gold medal olympians.” i swear on one of the expensive plans one of the things covered was “the secret cure.”

i bought this jacket that was 60 dollars, but it was on sale for 42. when it came, it was too small, so i had to send it back. i still wanted the jacket, but when i reordered the sale had ended. there was another sale on, for not as much, that brought it down to 52 dollars. so at that point i was out 94 dollars for a jacket i didn’t even have. side note: i had to really talk myself out of just keeping the too-small jacket. like i don’t really order clothing online and, man, you gotta swallow some pride to be like, “look, i read the thing about how this is ‘european cut’ and chose to ignore it. this all on me. i am not european cut, i understand if wearing this tiny coat for an entire winter is my punishment.”

anyways i sent the jacket back and eventually got the replacement. it fit, so i just kind of carried on with my brand new european-cut-for-an-american life. 

today, like, weeks later, i got an email saying the jacket store guys got the too-small jacket and i’d be credited for the original 42 dollars within 7-10 business days.

this fly kept landing on my stove and hovering around my radiator. like it thinks i’m going to spray flammable oil, because that’s pretty much what the poison is, it’s like oil that fucks up their wings and shit, all over my stove top and then light my whole place on fire the next time i try and be fancy and use conventional heating instructions on my can of chef boyardee ravioli. like it takes a lot of nerve to do that to me. to stand right there and try and get me to sabotage my whole life.

anyways i have a fly strip too, which i’ve talked about before because i’m glamorous, and right after i got dressed i came out i saw it on there, trapped. and i felt bad for it because it was still moving around like it had no clue what was going on. i actually felt bad for this fly. so i sprayed it point blank on the strip. will spraying my fly strip with roach poison ruin its effectiveness? i don’t know, but right after i did it i saw another fly. a second fly. that always gets me, when there are two of them, because they fuck and make babies. even if they don’t like each other i bet. just to spite me. two flies who hate each other start a family just to annoy me. i don’t know where it goes on, but knowing two flies are going at it somewhere in my apartment drives me insane. 

i think i’m being ghosted by this school i applied to. i didn’t want to go back to school, but i don’t know what i’m doing. i’m really directionless right now. i’m trying to extend my stay in young adulthood for as long as possible. just in the middle of the ocean jumping from driftwood to driftwood. i applied to this program, a one year degree, and i had to go through all the paces. i had to write a peppy application essay where i had to come across as this guy who’s got a biiig appetite for life and oh opportunities give me a major hard on and i always don’t feel defeated. i couldn’t check a box and then go, “i am not a bad guy, let me pay you to put a semblance of purpose back in my day-to-day. a little hope. put a few more watts in the light at the end of the tunnel there, for me.”

everything was going great, i met all the deadlines, my transcripts were good, here’s what i think screwed or is screwing me. i did a special program in high school that gave me college credits. i got an email from a woman at the school i applied to that said my college credit exemptions from high school weren’t valid unless i had records sent from my high school. i went online to the program’s website to order the documents directly. they asked for a login/password combo i was given in 2009 and of course had tattooed to my forearm for easy reference.

i had to call my high school. i had to pick up my phone, my phone that the technology for didn’t even exist when i was in high school, and i had to call them. it was like calling another dimension. it was like trying to find my way back to oz from kansas without the help of a tornado. the line was all static-y and shit like i was breaking the space-time continuum by even attempting it. i don’t want to even imagine what my high school is like. all the metal picnic tables are all probably new and some weird color. there’s probably some new ugly mural or something, i don’t know.

i had to talk to a man and explain to him that almost eight years ago, before he even started working at the school, there was a woman who had his job whose name has been lost to the annals of time. this woman ran a program that a little boy was in, and that little boy was now a little older boy who needed evidence that it all really even happened. the program was european and the boy had to get codes for an online portal so he could have some server farm in fucking sweden or something send his dusty ass decade old latin scores across the atlantic. somehow this took three weeks and probably lost the boy his spot and the 75 dollars it cost to apply.