8/10/99 Forced confession.

From inside the interrogation chamber.
My day feels like the interrogation scenes from the TV show Homocide: Life in the streets.

After the kinda day I had at work yesterday; getting to work late... a gruelling but productive 8 hours, tired, depressed, hungry, I just wanted to rest. Instead I was blind-sided and interrogated.

"We need to talk about the bills", Monica lipped -sync'd to me.

I instantly had the sensation that I was going to vomit (the feeling still persists). I could tell that the conversation would turn into hours of confrontation.

"Why haven't you paid this bill?"

"because the kids have grown attached to three meals per day."

"The billing people from "First Hades credit card company" called, and they want thier money and your soul."

"Why not? they have everything else."

" I guess I will just have to get a job..." said Monica, as if it were a threat.

"Yup, I guess you will... the sooner the better." was my reply, calling her bluff...and absolutely dead serious.

Monica took off in a huff to recalculate her plans, so that employment could be averted. I have given up hope of Monica being gainfully employed; illness and a lack of desire and motivation makes the prospect seem infinitly bleak for the time being. The only real options being me working harder for more money to sustain our level of debt.

Monica came back into the fray, "My mom says we are good candidates for Chptr.13 bankruptcy."

Like a broken prisoner of war, all I could say was "..Yeah, okay, whatever...", I just wanted the interrogation session to end.

rubber hoses don't leave bruises.