[Journal entry, 28 September 2017]
11:50 pm PDT—[My roommate] woke me up when he came home, which was probably a good thing because I needed to be up in time for my nine o’clock appointment with somebody at the Social Security Administration over my Medicare situation. I caught the 94 and got there just before nine, joining a line of people waiting to get in. The woman ahead of me slightly puzzled me in that she was wearing shorts and her legs seemed to have some sort of strange skin condition, but I concluded that she was wearing stockings in addition to her socks. When the door opened the line moved slowly, and the guy directly ahead of the woman ahead of me turned out to have rather a lot of things that needed to be opened and looked at, so things moved slowly. Abruptly I heard my name being called to go to window F, and I told them that was me, and they dropped everything and ran me through. The interview took very little time and the questions all seemed relatively simple and straightforward, so I was out of there in very little time.
I caught the 94 back and went as far as Fred Meyer, where I bought a few groceries with what’s left of the money, and at the end remembered I needed to refill some prescriptions. That went reasonably quickly, though it would have been better if I’d remembered it in the first place, and I came home on the 12.
I spent the rest of the day doing laundry and screwing around listing files on the computer, eventually seeing [my roommate] off to work as usual. And in the near future I expect to sack out. If there’s more, I can’t think of it.