Well, the Lead Squatter has a job now. Not sure what it is; I don't care what it is. Probably of some marginally-honorable, menial jod description. It's apparently through whatever network of G.E.D. alumni they're loosely associated with. (God forbid you can't take the initiative and go find some honorable means of self-sufficiency on your own. It's one thing to be a millenial Pajama Boy, it's another to be a millenial redneck with the same set of standards but half the education. Instead of a fleece onesie, he walks around in lounging pants with half his ass crack airing out, no shirt, his gut and man-boobs sagging, and carrying around a Natural Light instead of hot chocolate.) The one good thing about them being trailer park peckerwoods is, I discovered that they were using the bed of the truck to throw their ever-increasing mountain of self-generated trash in it, to the point where it's not driveable until the bed is emptied, or it would get pulled over for creating a traffic hazard. I just told Connie, they generate more bags of garbage in one weekend than we generate in two weeks, so that truck isn't moving until it's all emptied. Most of it isn't even
bagged, for God's sake. Which means he has to carpool. They avoid me like the Black Plague at this point.
Another bit of good news: I finally got my hearing date for February, but now I gotta wait until they reschedule because the lawyer has cases scheduled through another office that day. I told his Girl Friday I want to know by the END OF THE YEAR if this is going to push my date back or reset the clock altogether, because I'll find other legal representation who will escalate this to the federal level. I have no idea why it is being adjudicated through the Wilkes-Barre, PA office to begin with.