Bitter Tasting

I can't sleep.

Another night and it's getting worse. I'm not sleeping but I'm taking enough pills. I don't want to put sleeping pills on top of those. I don't need to sleep that bad. I don't even feel drowsy during the day, unless I'm doing something really boring, and then who doesn't get drowsy then? Really now. Still, I'm up tonight blogging my ass off with my Alto. Amazing device if I should say so myself.

I sat with my brother in Starbucks writing on the laptop keyboard, dreaming about getting home and wiring her up to the Alto and bang away on her like a screen door in a hurricane. And yes, I called my Alto a 'her'. How do you think that my metaphor would go over with banging on 'him'? I don't think so. It's a her for that metaphor.

And with that, I'm going to leave those figures of speech alone for awhile. Only because I should be getting tired so it must be something amiss with my thinking. You can't' be clear if you are awake past your bedtime. The brain needs its rest sooner or later. I consider this as I type away. I'm going to shut down everything and MAKE myself go to sleep. I know what will most likely happen, I'll sleep only a few hours, but some is better than none. The time now? 2:18am.

When I came in I ask for my mail, hoping to get a letter from Social Services stating that I'm being santioned, terminated, drawn and quartered or SOMETHING!!! But instead I get this interesting letter from The Spot management. It reads: "To Whom it May Concern: Please be advised that Mr. Hobobob has been accepted into permanent housing and has moved into our facility as of Tuesday, November 18, 2008. As a tenant of the program, Mr. Hobobob will be required to contribute $215.00 towards rent on a monthly basis (no security necessary). The remainder of the total rent of 741 will be paid by an SRO Moderate Rehabilitation rent subsidy to the building from HUD. Please make all rent checks payable to Hundersmoon LP."

One eyebrow raises. Is this what I fucking think it is? Are they asking me for rent? Did Social Services cut me already? Wait, don't panic.This is not the twenty first of the month. I'm still using the Social Services administrative paperwork, written in code that only they understand. It said the twenty first. It's fascinating to me how The Spot has been quiet all these months as to where rent will be coming from. Is this the natural process? Am I supposed to pay rent here? What if I didn't make the moves that I did, and was not completely destitute, would I be thrown out on my ear? I could pay this rent, in fact I would want to pay the rent so that I can go to Social Services and show my ass. BUT how did they know, that is The Spot, if I could even come close to paying this rent, and is this rent for this month, or for back rent going to November 18th?

It surprises me. I'll head downstairs at 8:30 and talk with either Sugar Plum or Snow White or even Roberto, whose name is on the letter. Someone should talk to me about the natural process of living here sooner or later, and I knew it would happen when money was the object. That's why I saved my nickels and dimes to a substantial little wad of cash that should be able to cover rent. Always save for a rainy day folks. Save something. Anything.

I stop writing and crawl into bed. I'm in a stink mood. I toss and turn and finally sit up and stare at the clock on the microwave. It reads 3:00am. That's the last of my memory of last night. I have wild, stirring dreams that wake me several times during the early morning. Each time I get up, I take a leak and crawl right back into bed, and each time I find sleep. Finally, at Six Thirty I get up and make a pot of coffee. This is what's annoying me. Which fucking one of these drugs is doing this? Blood pressure medicine, beta blockers? Cholesterol? Waterpills? Head meds? I wonder if it's the head meds. Although they didn't bother me before...in fact, NONE of my pills bothered me before.

Fuck it. As long as I'm not miserable during the day, then it's no biggie.

I get directly on my new keyboard and bang away, writing emails and working on the book that I'm writing with my brother. I'm just killing time now for my day to start.

First task at hand. Talk to the crew at The Spot and see about rent, then contact CID-NY. Lastly or maybe, even a trip down to Boerum place to institute this Fair Hearing bullshit.

Until then, I'm going to stay enraptured with my new keyboard.

Happy Hobobob