12 | P a g e What the hell had I even done wrong? All I did was skip out on our parents’ funeral so I could spank it to uncensored loli porn. So, what in the world was I supposed to do now? I knew the answer: look for a part- or full-time job, find myself a place to live, and buy some food. The question was how? I had no idea how to even begin looking for a job. Well, okay, I knew the basics. The first place I should check out was an employment agency—except I seriously had been a complete shut-in for over ten years, so I had no idea where any of those were. Also, I remembered hearing that those agencies only handled the introductions to job opportunities. You’d then have to take your résumé to the place with the job on offer and sit for an interview. And here I was, wearing a sweatshirt caked in a mixture of sweat, grime, and my own blood. I was in no state for an interview. No one was going to hire some weirdo who showed up looking like I did. Oh, I’d make an impression, for sure, but I’d never land the job. Moreover, I didn’t know where they even sold résumé paper. At a stationery shop? The convenience store? There were convenience stores within walking distance, but I didn’t have any money. But what if I could take care of all that? With some luck, I could borrow some money from a loan company or something, buy myself some new clothes, and then purchase some résumé paper and something to write with. Then I remembered: You can’t fill out a résumé if you don’t have an address or anywhere to live. I was hosed. I finally realized that, despite having come this far, my life was completely ruined. It started to rain. “Ugh,” I grumbled.