THE WRITER MUST EAT -> patreon.com/trn1ty <- blah! ideas with no tangibility; ideas with irrelevant supports; ideas without value; ideas' witlessness; ideas' witnesses; ideas- <^> 2022-10-26 my illogical day off-line 6:45 snooze 6:50 snooze 7:00 snooze 7:15 time to wake up. I got dressed, grabbed some goodies for my co-workers (I'm giving most of my stuff away - downsizing drastically), and walked over to the supermarket at which is the pharmacy where I get my prescription, which took about forty minutes. My prescription had expired and my new prescription wasn't in the system yet. I took a cab over to work (I would have walked but I'd just spent about an hour determining I had wasted said hour, so in the interest of my time I decided to shorten the following journey) and napped until my shift. When I got out of work (1900) I went to the bathroom (seven minutes; 1907), called a cab (twenty minute wait; 1927), got over to the pharmacy again (fifteen minute journey; 1947), and got my prescription, by which time it was seven fifty-five P.M. Thus it took two hours. Why am I busy all the time? I can't even blame my low pay on the person that runs my workplace, who can barely afford to stay in their living quarters. But it's disheartening that I work eight hours a day, five days a week, and there's no way in hell I can afford a house of any size and very little chance I'll ever be able to own my own home. If you agree with me and still like Capitalism you are making my situation worse and I hope you eat flaming death. Capitalists belive obviously the current situation is bad; let's make it worse. I'm too poor for rational thought. In the cab over to the pharmacy someone else getting a ride pissed in the front seat. Pissed themself, right there in the cab. They left and the driver put a t-shirt on the seat. <^> No rights reserved, all rights exercised, rights turned to lefts, left in this corner of the web.