I’ve been grabbing off of a cub named Cody that hangs out in the park. So much so that when he asked me to take over for him for the summer I wasn’t surprised. He gave me a pound of weed and I only have to pay back 3 out of 4 quarter-pounds back. I’m fucking ecstatic.
My parents can finally get off my back. I found a summer job, chilling in a park, learning about economics. Basically a college Degree in a summer.
Now I can stop feeling lazy, make my own lunch money and bus money for next year. I’m not well-behaved enough to be given cash apparently (even an allowance or lunch money) even though my family has it. My mom rolled her eyes and I asked for bus money today. “Get. A. Job.” she said to me. No one else my age is working though… but I still found a job! I’m so fucking resourceful. And I’ve secured my social for the summer! My phone’s been ringing off the hook and I’m invited to all the parties! I hope Cody never comes back.
I told my sister what I’m doing. She got me a new connect for mushrooms too and my she keeps sending me clients. So supportive!
This is what independence feels like! I’ve upgraded my sneakers and eat exclusively takeout now. Next stop: a sleeve tattoo?
I wonder… since I’m selling this much just at my public school, how much I could make off of that Catholic high school across the way. Do the Jesus kids believe in it like getting high? Can I look that up? If so that’s where I’m going with my new profession. Market expansion. And I’ll even market it as “connecting with a higher power” (Or is that a sin?). Plus I love a Bear in uniform. Especially if he smokes weed.
Also there’s at least 6 openly gay bears at my new high school and none of them are even remotely dateable. Funny how confidence works… People are confident enough to come out but not to get a new haircut and look into loafers. I can confirm that the correlation between being gay and having fashion sense is nonexistent here. But the link to being gay and doing drugs is at an all-time high. They’re my best customers.
In fact, I’ve been getting invites to bush parties, beach raves, and even the depot which is just a pizza place that everyone hangs out in shared cars and hotboxes. All lucrative to show up to. Plus the fake ID that my sister secured me says I’m 19 so I’ve been up-selling alcohol as well and getting into clubs to sell. This little ghetto place is quite the industry. I’ve found my dream job!
If you or a loved one you know battles with Bipolar Disorder or any Mental Health Issues, please do get the help you need. If you need to talk to someone now, you can talk to one of the many fantastic therapists at Better Help by CLICKING HERE.