Why Do I Feel Good?

What can I say to you. Today I feel pretty good. Not like most days when I'm bitching and complaining, but pretty good. Probably because I got this on my bed last night:

"Hobobob, please remain on the unit tomorrow morning, Wednesday November 23, 3009. You have an interview at so and so on the Upper West Side. You're [sic] appointment will be at 10am and you will be escorted, leaving the facility at 9am. Please be ready at that time outside of the tech office on the 2nd floor."

Well boys and girls, my first housing interview. The last one was a merry ol' trip to a TC. This one will be to where I wonder? Earlier I was told that there was a new building constructed that was only going to allow two homeless units. If this is so, I don't think that this will be a TC but instead something else.

In fact, I don't know what the fuck I'm in for. Simple as that. I'm walking into this just as unknowing as you.

It's really funny though, because I went to thrapy yesterday, and one of the guys in my group was in the same predicament as I. He spent months languishing in a shelter, eighteen to be exact, waiting for an apartment. And then suddenly one came up that exceeded his expectations. He glowed over it and was asking me if I got the same. I had told him no, only to come home to this note. What does this make me feel like, I don't know, hopeful? Could my situation suddenly be like his? I don't know, but I've become skeptical being out here in the real world for so long. Things have been getting progressively better for me, to say the least, but I'm not expecting miracles. You know?

I'm sitting on the edge of my bed now, excited as a Skek in front of something shiny. As excited as a highschooler with a naked prom queen. As excited as Bloomberg with a stack of money. Well, you probably get the picture. Good or bad, I'm waiting for something.

It seems like the door to this odyssey is now closing...and a new one is opening.

See you on the other side.

Hobobob