He Doesn't Know When to Fold'Em

One of my roomates is also a close family member. Someone I love very deeply and want very badly to help. I also want to shoot off his foot. His good one.

Every Thursday, he gives me money for his portion of rent, food and to pay me back for various supplies I fronted him for his job. We have been behind on bills and the weekend cash infusion was very, very important this week. It contained, among other things, the money for Daughter and Nephew's (who lives with us) school pictures, Halloween candy, co-pay for my blood labwork, groceries and the gas money needed for work and to make the 400 mile round-trip to visit Boyfriend's Son, (a.k.a.: Soon-to-Be-Step-Son, YaY!)...

Roomate comes home last night and says he needs to talk outside. I follow. He proceeds to inform me that he lost all of his money on ONE blackjack hand at the Reservation. He had 19 and the dealer had 14. He put down his entire $400. Dealer pulled a 6.

I am going to scream, kill someone or shoot a foot. I really, really believe that would be super-relieving.

In other news, still no talk with The Boss. I'm frustrated, but that frustration took a slight bump. Maybe more on that later this afternoon after I pick up my pain meds.

Why am I poorer now than before law school? More importantly, how could that guy pull a 6!?!