I feel like a big ol' meanie-pants. I just had a tele-marketing call from a rather pushy woman. I asked how they got our number as it's a private number. She said from an old White Pages. It'll only take 45 seconds, a survey for working people. OK, I said, I'll do it, but I don't want your mob calling us again, OK? Blah blah. But the first question was something about 'Are you and your partner working...' something working-couple something blah. The assumption that everyone is in a relationship, is part of a couple, and even if they are, that they want to be classified this way. So I hung up on her. She doesn't want my answers. I don't want to give them. No doubt there would be something about annual household income (these kind of surveys never seem to be able to cope with the concept of "share-houses") and then I'd have to actually think about how poor I am. And I don't want to think about that.
I think it was john campbell/
stereotypist (of webcomic Pictures for Sad Children) who likes to play a game about money. The game is you go as long as you can without thinking about money. That is it. I like to play this game too.
Unfortunately today is not the day for it. The result of our house inspection the other week is that they sent us a letter putting our rent up. Yay for not getting kicked out! :D Boo for having to pay more money. D: It is quite a jump too, but then it was a steal before that, so who knows. *grumble* I should, like, write pr0n for moolah. BECAUSE RIGHT NOW I AM GIVING IT AWAY. FOR FREE. Instead of that "giving away" where you charge money.
Speaking of which, I am in the process of writing comment smut for
peace-bloom. It's RPS, surprise surprise. David Tennant/John Simm. Nobody here would be interested in reading that kind of thing, right?