If My Life Experience Were a Videogame

You wake up in a strange world. You are not sure if you were there when you fell asleep. As you sit up, you realize that your clothes have all disappeared. Not because someone stole them, but you remember that you left them at the building where the washer machine is a few blocks away. Scowering what is left in your room, you find some dirty shorts, two non-smelly shirts, two unmatching socks, and one clean pair of underwear. (+1 outfit) You remember God is on your side every morning. For bonus points, you find breakfast, consisting of some sugarless peanut butter, two over-ripe bananas, and some locally made honey. Flies are intigued by your breakfast choice. You are intrigued by the guy who told you, pound for pound, flies have more protein than steak.
      Poking your head outside, you survey the party from the night before. (Not YOUR party, but the ones the neighbors had last night). Although there are no neighbors sleeping in the yard (this time), empty bottles of jack daniels, empty boxes of Miller lite, and a three wheeled baby stroller litter your homestead lawn (-1 fung shui). After picking up the big pieces, you double lock both the screen and the main door, and head off for caffeinated nourishment. On your way, you are ambushed by homeless. You hope for the best, expect the worst. Armed with a few ones and enough knowledge of the Bible to get yourself in trouble, conversation is engaged. You are then schooled on who God really is, why you are in the neighborhood you are, and a renewed sense of purpose. You are also three bucks lighter.
      You enter the Circle K allured by the smell of coffee and artificially flavored goodness. Avoiding the glances from the patrons patrolling the store, you assure yourself that your hair doesn't need to be combed today. The clerk at the desk smiles at you, as you make small talk. She is twice your age, but you swear she is flirting with you. (+1 ego, +4 creeped out factor). After making a joke to avoid the awkward silence, she then proceeds to tell you about her husband's (husband? -2 ego) dog being run over for the third time and how funny that is (+1 morning irony). Finding nothing to say except "wow... I'm sorry 'bout your dog..." she responds by making an extremely racist joke, offending every decent bone in you... and yet, for some reason, you laugh.
      The liquid norishment leaves you feeling buzzed and atwitter. You begin to wrack your brain for things to write about in the morning. Your brain has left a note scribbed in black sharpie on a candy wrapper, "Gone to find myself. If I get back before I do, tell me to wait for myself". You consume more caffeine to compensate as the screen fades to back.
     Level 1 complete.