Speaking of whatever...

Speaking of illegal immigration (see Ted's comment on my last post), we had two people come into our office today that we were unable to help because they had received all their credit with false Social Security numbers. Sad for us because we could have gotten more money. Tragic for them because one of them has a number of houses and the other a large amount of credit card debt.
Speaking of tragedy, one of the most educational parts of this job are the interactions with people and their varying situations. There are the young couples steeped in credit card debt and the divorcees that have been cheated and abandoned to deal with their financial ruin by their former spouses. I'm interacting with people trying to keep their businesses from going under and others that are struggling to get by on food stamps and social security while the child they care for is in juvenile detention. Some are more tragic than others. Even in the short time I've been there, I've seen a few that look broken under the stress of their failing health and growing financial burden. I am grateful for the situation I have since the news continues to be bleak. The radio is full of the same news and the same songs recycled over and over.
Speaking of recycling, I got to send out a letter demanding money from a creditor that violated the automatic stay that our clients get when they file for bankruptcy. Just because they sent them a letter asking for money, we get to demand a large fine. Also, my roommate, Maria, is a recycling fanatic and even recycles the wrapper from the Costco toilet paper. I completely approve of this since ever coming back from Guatemala, where the wrapper was also quite useful, I have felt it a waste to throw it away. She's been researching on the internet for at least half an hour how to dispose of water filters, if anyone knows. She would prefer something green.
Speaking of waste, it smelled like sewage at work today.
Speaking of smells, when I came into my building it smelled like cat urine and tortillas. When I got into my apartment it smelled like stir fry and perfume. Outside in the hallway it usually smells like smoke. I would say it was marijuana, if I knew what marijuana smelled like.
Speaking of marijuana, I passed by the famous hippie craft market on Saturday. I need to actually go in person next week. There were real hippies! Not, the neo-hippies with dreads and cut-offs, but real 60s hippies, still wearing their tie-dye. A piece of living history right near my home!
Speaking of home, I like it here. Maybe I'll stay.