So I had some interesting encounters with our oh-so-fantastic government. The first came when I went to take the road-test so that I could get my driver’s license. I had practiced everything a million and one times, but the woman who gave me the test was really rude to me which just made me more nervouse. Case in point: I failed. And I am still irritated that she called me lazy after knowing me for all of thirty seconds, simply because I didn’t understand what she asked me to do. (Mumbler!!) I work at least sixteen hours a week plus going to school, don’t call me lazy, you bitch.

So after a great night at work (not even being sarcastic here, some friends of mine came in to see me. It was great, they entertained me, I gave them food, they gave me money. It’s a great relationship.) I got home and decided to do my taxes. Working two jobs this summer screwed me over: I have to pay the government the equivalent of working 43 non-tipped hours. I’m gonna have to pull it out of my rainy-day-emergency funds, but damn it’s gonna take a while to earn that back. I won’t bore you with the details, but I’m hoping to be able to replace it within the next eight weeks. Crapzor… on toast.

I barely make anything! Why are you taking my money? Stupidfaces.

The title comes from “Why don’t you get a job?” by The Offspring.

hahaha. I’d like to see the taxman try to be a take-out girl.