What not to do when you are bored

As I have mentioned in the past I have recently become a productive member of society. This little nugget of info is still new to me seeing as I suffer from severe ADD. My floors are swept, things are dusted, the bed is made and the laundry done all by 10:00 this morning. I am trying to make an effort to not spend large amounts of time sitting in front of the computer for my child?s sake. This morning I finished up my chores and looked at the boy and asked what he wanted to do today. I got no answer. This is usually what I get from him upon asking. So I thought to myself, “self, what would you like to do today?” The best answer I could come up with was scrapbook. Of course scrapbooking meant cleaning off my drafting table and that I wasn?t so much into doing. So keeping with that whole productive member of society thing I thought there wasn?t anything stopping me from going to get my child?s social security number. As a public service to anyone who is reading this: never never never do this out of shear boredom. The end result, you too will sit in front of your computer eating an entire chocolate bar wondering if it is socially acceptable to start drinking this early in the afternoon.

My first clue that this would not be a quick trip is the simple fact that I was going to the Social Security office. This is where you go to apply for welfare. Seeing as our fair city has the highest rate of single teenage mothers, one of the highest crime rates, and skyrocketing unemployment the “welfare” office is a little busy. (Jen please disregard all of what I just said when you make your decision about where to transfer.)

My second clue: no where to park. At this point the smart lady would have just turned around and gone home. Or better yet went to the Nordstrom that is 1/2 a block away. But, alas, I am dumb and determined to file my taxed sometime before April 15th this year.

As I walk into said social security office I am greeting by about 100 very smelly people, and only 2 seats available. Again the smart lady would notice what number they are calling (A4) and what number I had just taken (A286) and say, “hmmm, toddler + long wait = one not happy lady.” But I am thinking about the $10K just sitting there calling my name. I take my seat next to the walking human ashtray and my child immediately clutches my neck. Yeah, baby I?m scared too.

This place is full of the epitome of white trash. I am sorry if that is a gross generalization of the patrons of this “fine” establishment, but face it. It?s true. And it?s funny because it is true.

My favorite was Miss Skankalicious 2007. The chick wearing the hot pink track suit with the long badly permed hair that goes out of the house with it wet and she?s carrying a silver lame handbag with a matching hot pink Playboy bunny on it. Mmmmm… bus stop skanky goodness right there.

I have never seen so many mullets in my entire life! Women men, children. It didn?t matter. They all got their hair cut at Mullets-R-Us. The place screamed “I don?t have a job and don?t want to get off my fat ass to get one so the government better pay me what is rightfully mine.”

After an hour and a half of waiting my number was finally called. Lucky for me I had all of my paperwork filled out and ready to go. A concept lost on the majority of the patrons who sat in their seats for half an hour before deciding to get up and look at the wall of forms and then sit there with them in their hands NOT filling them out in advance. Honest to god. I waited an hour and a half to sit in front of a lady for 5 minutes. The good news is the boy was content. He was either mesmerized by the icky people or scared shitless. I?ll go with the latter on that one, because frankly I was too.

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