My mind is still in a knot. I do not very much know how to use one of these computers, but Doc tried to show me around an old one before I agreed this would be a better place for me.
I discussed with him my life’s events. We had time delve into the minutiae, even. After a long few days, I decided to head here at his
Doc’s car was like nothing I’d ever seen, even in Hollywood. It shook me up quite a bit, though.
Seems like not much has changed about people since I left back then, though there does seem to be a bit of a homely feel about a few of the people I’ve met lately.
I have to say, though, there’s been at least one benefit to my decision already: my bank account. I used to live off of scraps. Cans of beans, casseroles. Stretched my leftovers out for days. I tried to save a little bit back then, putting all my Chronicle money into savings and only taking out what I needed for expenses. No extraneous buys for me. Seems like that’s helped out a bit.
Interest. Used to think it was a bank’s way of keeping my money. Now, I know it was a good idea to let them. Now, they need to pay me. Now I still try to live like that, but I can’t help but relax now that I’ve seen my account. I’m doing just fine from that standpoint.
That homely feel I was talking about. Seems like everyone’s writing something for somebody these days. I’ll have to shoe it down to the local newspaper. See if they need some help. Hell, maybe I’ll try out something else if that doesn’t pan out. There’s always a way to make some dough, even if it’s just to pass the time.
Compound interest. Thought it was for prisoners. Hah!