Damn. Meanwhile, think I do not even working to find a well-paid job in a ministry, BP or the employment agency. Tomorrow I'll call the TV Fritzen again and plead for mercy. Indeed, there are only two possibilities: either I'll take the job, and end, though, like David Hasselhoff or, I take the job to not end well as David Hasselhoff, I can not afford me schönzutrinken my remaining life. That would be hard.
To make matters worse, I've still got the mail and opened. Electricity and telephone company, Mr. William junior and senior, the bank, the GEZ, all agree: They want money from me and to be so, otherwise they announce drastic Funds to. Wilhelm family is already so far that they do not even want more money, but only that I disappear from their lives quickly. It happened to me already with family shellac, and even with my own. Any attempts at appeasement and the opposition to the dismissal remained unheard. Instead, Mr. Wilhelm flees senior now on, when he sees me from a distance, to not be so involved in conversation. And after all that I have done for him and this house. Today I wanted it to appeal to the scaffolding on the house since Friday littered the living image even more than my Germany flags were ever able to. Before I knew it, but he was gone behind his apartment door.
My situation is tighter than what they felt Josef Fritzl and notes in her life ever. And if a miracle happens, I can soon live somewhere in a cellar hole.
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