"I haven't made time to see the employment office yet." He probably should but he's still trying to get his mental shit together while maintaining an outward apperance of calm and fortitude.

It's an effort that's sort of exhausting him.

He gestures forward towards some stalls fluttering with fabric, keeping a decent distance to the side of Cassandra as he starts walking. "I've been a medic for what feels like forever but, jeez louise, it can't really have been more then two years. Before that I helped about in my father's tailoring business and mother's flowershop while I watched the little monsters and went to school."

It sounds like a lot all at once but Mal's compacting his life from age nine up to now into one sentence. "We have something in common with the tailoring then."