Welcome Your Morning

Still that night, I'm busy on my laptop, watching music videos and blogging. Yeah, blogging can almost become a full time job...if you let it. I take my time with the damn thing, reviewing, rechecking, editing, proofreading, typesetting, inserting, searching online. There's a lot to it. And if I'm writing my screenplay I can be doubly busy. I'm starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel when it comes to the screenplay. Yes, my writer's....

Igor is waving me down. I remove my headsets reluctantly, wondering what new stupidity awaits. "Hobobob, bed number one is cursing you out." Wha? "Yeah, bed number one is cursing you out while you're sitting there." I frown. Turn around, look around the partition. Bed number one is empty. Shut up, Igor, there's no one there. "Yes, he was there," Igor replies, his tone trails off as if he was expecting Dante to jump in. I look at Dante sitting across from me, staring at me on his bed. He is silent. Fuck it then. I put my headsets back on.

Now...yes, my writer's block. I've got a little insight to the end of the story which is locked between antagonist and protagonist and a fiery ending that threatens to wipe out the supporting cast unless I can do....

Igor is waving me down again. I remove my headsets, and yes, indeed, there is a commotion in the section behind me. I turn around, look around the partition again and behind me is 'bed number one' a normally amicable man, walking from the dorm entrance into the bathroom, cursing and shouting, being trailed by a tech, the jamoke that tested me days before, with a urine cup. They both vanish into the bathroom. What the fuck was that about?

"He's just going crazy," Igor says. "He's high on some- thing." John, who everyone thought was asleep, mumbles from his bed. "He's drunk. And they sent the other one downstairs already." The couple emerge from the bathroom. The jamoke, still trailing, says: "Just go outside and sit down." No doubt meaning the 'hotseat'. "Fuck that," Bed number one replies. "Why are you guys just fucking with me?"

If he's in the clutches of the Techs and he's dirty, I'll not have to worry about him coming up behind me and starting any shit. But just in case he does, I'm not going to have my baby in the way. At such times as a physical altercation bodies roll about everywhere. I don't think I'll like fighting around her on a kinda flimsy folding table. I stow my laptop and put it in its spot under the bed, and then crawl in, closing my eyes.

Igor, fresh from coming from outside in the hall, around the Hotseat, comes in whispering loudly, hissing out state secrets. "His mother just died." John: "Bed number one?" Igor: "Yeah, he's upset about it. He must have been drinking." No, I say, he would have failed the breathalyzer. There would have been no reason for a piss test. Igor nods. "Then he must be hopped up on drugs."

That's enough for me.

My Early Morning:
Eyes open
Get up
Do calisthenics
Take a leak
Make bed
Put on shoes
Read book

Easy list, right? I can think of none easier. I can't say that doing light calisthenics in the morning is getting easier, but I have noticed that I don't wake up achy any longer. Something that I was attributing to old age is found not to be so. I am surprised.

I get my gear at Seven O'clock and head out to Think Coffee, where I find my favorite seat in the corner.

My Mid Morning:
Blog
Email
Go to Morning Meeting...cry inside

At Morning Meeting is 'Bed Number One' quite normal and alert. He must have passed the piss test last night or he wouldn't be here. He strolls in, looks for a place to stand and finds a spot right next to me. I tense up, ready to chop him in the neck or something, but he just stands there, listening intently to Kelly The Ten Year Old, and her just plain dumb announcements.

My Mid Morning - continued
Get meds
Cop a train ride to Dr. A's office.

229.4lbs
"Why Hobobob, you're loosing weight!" He exclaims. I tell him about doing my calisthenics and walking. "What did I tell you that a little exercise would do for you? You keep it up and you'll be in great physical health." He takes my blood pressure. "It's good for a change." He nods. "You have any problems?" Just one. The Morning Meeting. I was told that if I get a written note from a counselor or a doctor I can be excused. He writes me up one with no problem. Actually, I was hoping that he would write one up for Monday also, but he gave me one for only Friday.

Well, half a loaf is better than none, I always say. I leave Doctor A.'s office and head across town to Quest Labs. Dr A, had given me a form to request a blood test weeks ago and I haven't gotten it done yet. He's watching over my kidney functions. Some kind of acid in the blood, connected to DNA, Liver and Hypertension...some shit like that. I wonder what the fuck are those two organs are doing in my back. Other than goofing off.

My Late Morning:
Madison Starbucks too crowded
5th Avenue Starbucks too crowded
Hang out in front of library
Go to my cubicle
Blog and write emails.
Play 2142

Exciting right? This is my Friday Morning. The plan for today? MOMA if my brother and I feel like it. Other than that, to search Craigslist for another writing gig. Ever since my porn editor gave me the gasface, I've been without something steady. Hopefully I'll get lucky today.

Hopefully.

Hobobob