The Fuckening

I always say Im gonna start a journal but never know where to start because how could anyone understand the fuckening that is my life if you don't know what's all happened? And if I'd started it sooner then you would know and then

Rinse. Repeat. So let's stop that cycle.

The fuckening. That's what I'm calling this chapter of my life.


Pre-fuckening you ask? I don't think I know of pre-fuckening since it's all been pretty fucked. So I'll probably spill all that as we go along.

I'll grab this git-tar and we can sing along to the sadness that is my life song.

I called lawyers again. To try and have someone help with this EEOC thing. Reliving each detail every time I have to call around. They all need to take notes. They need to know what happened. Again and again and again.

The other day was different though. I explained we had just come out of homelessness and and what happened at my prior job.
If she said it once, she said it 100 times. "So you probably couldn't afford an hourly rate then"

But never not once told me the rate. So the eeoc shit is just bullshit then? At the end of their investigation they say you have a right to sue and give you a letter which is worthless. Where's the accountability for what happened?

So no. No one is actually protected when you're promised you won't be discriminated against.

Mmm spaghetti!

I've been staying with a "friend" of mine. Barely been there ...like a month and a week maybe and I'm told via Snapchat - have to be out by June 1 when I was told I could "stay as long as I needed"

Don't get me wrong. I had planned 4 months max and will not stay where I'm not wanted. I'm no stranger to sleeping in my car over the last few years. I had to quit my job to go. This wasn't a small thing. I was very clear that this is a last resort and I was trying to keep independence.


I've lost around 75 to 80 pounds since the bad job and the homelessness. I tend to not eat because I'm anxious. She kept bitching about me eating so I fixed spaghetti the other night. I cleaned everything up I thought. I do need an eye exam but I thought I got everything.

I came down the next morning and apparently had gotten a couple splotches of spaghetti sauce on her candle. So she wrote me a note and told me I could have it since it had sauce in it.

This is on the heels of the notice and a whole panic attack. I've had limited WiFi so I just checked Snapchat and she sent a pic of the cedar sticks in the tooth and asked where her special lighter is. I forget the name and once I remember I'll update. I hadn't touched the shit but it's just like mother and her nasty notes and shit. Like bro, just ask. Don't send a picture of the tooth thing where the lighter sits?

Anyway. I saw my kid tonight. I told him nothing I'm going through bc that's not his burden but it does affect me and he noticed.