Sunday, October 2, 2016 "First World Stress."

Sunday, October 2, 2016
Week: 8
Songs to Remember:

        So first of all, the tenants, the new ones who just moved in a few days ago, have not been able to connect to our wi-fi for the past few days.

        My family has been using this wi-fi for a long time, years on end, both on phones and laptops, both Apple and Android, and there's been no problems. My mom made me go over to their room Wednesday night to help them out on their problem and shit, but I couldn't really do anything. I asked to use their phone to do some online trouble-shoot, do some methods like reset the wi-fi, reset the wireless properties, disable the wi-fi password, etc.

        Still no luck. They're like "I'll give you my phone number so we can contact you for problems and shit. You should call AT&T." I'm like "Aight, sure." Keep in mind this was all on a Wednesday night, 10:30 PM, I had school the day after, I still had fucking homework to finish, my dad's telling my "Oh call AT&T, they should have a 24-hour support line." And I'm like "For fuck's sake, I wanna sleep, I have school tomorrow, you tell me to go to sleep earlier than I do and you now you tell me to call AT&T this fucking late on a school-night."

        I receive fucking texts from the tenants saying "Did you call AT&T yet? Did you call AT&T yet?" as if I'm the sole reason the wi-fi doesn't work for them. I just make something up because I don't want to waste my time, so I text them that "Yeah, I called them. They said to either factory-reset your phone and back it up, or contact Apple, just, the problem is way too general, too many factors go into this. Also, considering that the wi-fi works for everybody else but you two, the problem's probably stemming from your guys' phones." Mind you, they texted me while I was at school, and today too, so, no escaping this sort of fucking stress either.

        I was busy taking my time, about to do my work, my parents weren't home today until a bit after, but, they texted me again asking "Did you call AT&T?" I tell them the same shit, and they're like "Can we come over and test it ourselves?" I'm like "Fine, whatever proves it to you." I probably should've called my parents about it, or just tell them to wait until my parents get home, but you gotta have the mental damage that I've gotten from all this bullshit to think "Oh, they'll probably take like 5 minutes or some shit, who gives a fuck, I just want them to stop fucking bothering me, it's not my problem."

        I have them come over, they're like "Ah fuck, the wi-fi's still not working." And I'm like "Yeah, what'd you think. Have you tried resetting your phone, I can reset the router for you, etc." It did work at one point, like for 10 seconds, and then it disconnects. About 10 minutes of them sitting there, my parents come home, we give them the account number for them to call AT&T, they reside in our household for a near 30 minutes or so, the AT&T guy tells them that they should contact Apple about this bullshit, the tenants were still being stubborn saying that they could connect wi-fi elsewhere, so the AT&T guy kept on going.

        This was all happening in my room, by the way, after moving from the living room to my room that contains the router and shit. They sit in there, the AT&T guy tries to reset the modem, and if that doesn't work, he'd send us a replacement one. Luckily, holy fuck, that it worked, and so they had back on over to their place, fina-fucking-ly. My parents are all like "Hey, you shouldn't have people just come into the house like that," as if I'm a fucking child still. My dad, fucking, I don't know. Then my mom tells me to start filling out that stupid FASFA and CalGrant shit, as if I didn't know I have to do that already.

        And I'm just there thinking to myself "Man, do I feel depressed as fuck and lifeless right now, and it sucks that I can't do anything about it, I can't even fucking kill myself, heh." It's not even my problem, it never was my problem, that the wi-fi didn't work for them. The blame was all put on me, as I was a fucking internet-service provider's employee, as if I do this shit for a living. But I don't, the most I can fucking do is search up "iphone not connecting to wi-fi" on Google and trouble-shoot. My parents didn't do shit about this all, their excuse is "we don't know anything about phones and shit."

        The tenants excuses were "it's not our phones, it's your wi-fi, you, you, YOU," and texted ME all the fucking time and not my parents. Like, it's not my idea to have tenants. And so all this stress was put on me, as if I was the one who set all this up, that I'm the one who's supposed to know how to fix this, as if I'm the one who caused this, and I'm only seven-fucking-teen years old, on a Sunday afternoon in my senior year of High school, with deadlines to meet and work to do. How much more stress do you want to put me through?

        Doesn't' make any sense, and I get hit with brunt of it all. Just, fucking, kill me. And yeah, it is pretty petty to complain about this shit when there are kids who don't even have wi-fi, have homes, have money for food to eat, have parents who don't love 'em and or abuse 'em, it is petty of me to complain about tenants who complain to me about the wi-fi not working. But I guess it's just first world problems, that's all there is to it, and I shouldn't get so worked up on it, right?