PUNKin

Met who I am calling SchoolMom today. Real sweet lady, but she's trying to teach me medical paperwork terminology so I can at least help with that before I get all stuck in the whole work-sponsored med school thing?

Turns out that means I get to be a translator! Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy(SEND HELP)yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.

Y'remember MuttonChops? Apparently, he thinks something like "stabbed by knife. Slept. All good," is okay? And no, that's not what he put at all! HIPAA stuff and all, but like, that's the kind of... stuff... we're working with.

I'M ALIVE! And I'm still in Nicebald's employ! By the grace of Castle Grayskull, I swear. I've been living like a hermit, doing my best local cryptid impersonation to keep from getting fired.

The plan tonight was simple, so very stupidly simple. Do laundry, look responsible, don't get fired or make enemies.

I should have remembered we can't have simple here.

I was down there, minding my own business. Shoot, I was being a productive member of society! I was fixing the frayed ends on some of the common washcloths! (You gotta get that… stuff BEFORE it hits the washer, or it's gonna fray right?) But noooooooooooooooooooo, no good deed goes unpunished, I guess.

The door opened, and it couldn't have been NiceBald. Heaven forbid he see me doing something good. It was this 6 and a half something tall wall. of. MENACE. Seriously, what are they feeding these teens here!?

He took one look at me, took a glance down at my jacket, and I swear he turned straight right to walk down the opposite line of washers. Took the perfect opposite side of the room! Kept glancing at me too, like he wanted to make sure I stayed right where he left me. Could feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. Didn't even realise I stopped stitching till he loaded the washer and left. Can't even finish my first week without making another enemy.

Not a day in this freakin mansion and I already stuck my god blessed foot in my god blessed mother f'in mouth! Dang, even typing like this feels like a downgrade :p 

Anyways, this nice bald old man, like, appeared out of nowhere, offered me a place to learn what makes me, well, me, and use it to make a living there! When you summarise it like that, I know it sounds bad. There's more to it, I promise, just can't say. NDA or something. I'm staying safe, I promise. But like, otherwise, total golden ticket, right? Move in, act right, be good, and I have a roof over my head, something to eat, and a little money for the weekend! Beats the h*ll out of Wally World!

I fkd up. Day fkin one.

Just got the last of my plants up to my room, turned to take a box from pops, dropped it right on my toe! Yeah, I can move the bruise and busted up sht, but IT STILL HURT LIKE A MOFO! I think that was the nastiest, most vitriolic thing I've ever heard come out of my mouth. DAD of all people was surprised! And I heard a throat clear behind me?