the_wanlorn: The Doubtful Guest (Default)
Really, that is all the exciting news I have. I am trying to start a small business but failing hilariously at it. IT IS COMPLICATED OKAY. At least I have a name.

Also, I've signed up for too many fic exchanges/contests and I think I need to drop out of some of them. I don't want to turn into That Ficcer, though. MY LIFE; SO HARD.

I made a budget recently! It turns out that it's literally impossible for me to live on one paycheck, my bills are more than that alone. So I've been killing myself with guilt and bad decisions and shit because my mum told me that if I was putting less than one whole paycheck into savings per month I was spending too much. Oops. That'll teach me to listen to her about anything.

Except it won't. It never does.

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MICHAEL: One evening, a patient was brought into my clinic in the middle of the night. He was tortured so badly I couldn’t believe he was still breathing. A man was with him. It was the man on your radio. I’ll never forget the voice. He put a gun to my head and explained to me that my patient had robbed him and that he wanted me to save him so the pain would last longer. I did what I could. He said to come here for my money — my blood money. There’s a place between life and death. Amazing how long a man can linger there.
PRESCOTT: That’s enough, all right? Okay. Bring everything upstairs. We’re getting out of here. Tony? Tony, can you hear me?
THUG: What the hell is going on?
MICHAEL: I know this guy. He’ll have people outside the bank, in your truck,and on your boat. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.
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