Okay, now I'm a grease spot. Out of the frying pan, I suppose. So today, instead of walking down to the welfare office, I walked over to That Other Call Center (of Doom) to apply. I didn't wear a tie, just slacks and a collard shirt, but I did shave at least. I did the application on one of their computers since it seems the online one I did at home didn't filter through. They didn't give me any of the tests or an interview at that time. I have an appointment for 9am a week from tomorrow. So I get home to find a message on the machine from the apartment complex. It seems the rent was a day late and they want $60. A little time later, a note gets stuck in the door saying it needs to be in the office by 9am tomorrow. It doesn't say "or else" but I think it's safe to infer that. I don't think we have $60 between the three of us. I have a bad feeling that we will be getting a 72 hour notice first thing tomorrow. A good friend of mine sent me $60 via Paypal when I related this, but of course that will take 3-4 days to transfer to my bank account. I applied for the Paypal debit card for future such emergencies. That being said, I don't see much choice other than calling my dad to come pick my ass up if we do get evicted and a few friends to see if they want to store/have some gear. I'm almost out of people food, piggie food, and smokes [been out of booze for a week or two, but really now what's important?] and won't hear from unemployment for at least another two weeks.

I suppose I have a few friends I can call, but I fucking hate that. Two friends helped bail me out with groceries (and even smokes and booze) the last time this crap happened, and a few friends have been helping me limp along this time. I'd almost rather go back to Bakersfield; or at least stow my gear at two or three friends' pads and couch surf until I find out about unemployment or find a freakin' job that pays more than pocket change.