Late Night at Eternity

"She didn't answer my phone call yesterday," MY CASAC said.

What? Did she know how long I have already waited? "I can't let you go anywhere until I get verification." You mean I'll have to wait in the waiting room longer? "That's until she comes in. Dr L is running late and will be in around Ten." I looked at my watch. It was Nine Thirty. I was here since Ten after Nine.

Yeah, that's right. Today when I woke at Seven, I didn't hop up and get ready, but instead I wrote emails...blogged and did shit like that. I didn't even start getting ready until Eight Thirty. I packed my gear carefully, grabbed my coat and walked. When I got downstairs I ran into Snow White and Jhon (that's how I'm going to spell it from this point on). "Hobobob, I need to talk to you." Yeah. I followed her into her office. She had more forms for me to sign. I got busy. "Can we meet tomorrow?" I dunno Snowy, I don't remember what I have planned for the morning. Can I get back to you? "Yeah, sure." Do you have e-mail? "Yeah," she scribbles her address down on a piece of paper. "Are you going to get breakfast?" Not a bad idea. I go across the hall and snag breakfast.

Snow White wants to go through my room again. Uggh. That' means that I have to get up early tomorrow, and throw out those piss bottles that I've got lined up.

I hit the Way and make it to WE COULDN'T- CARELESS- ABOUT YOUR- FUCKING ASS-Care in record time. I give my appointment letter to a young man that could not, for the life of himself, figure out that this was a follow up visit. "You were here yesterday?" Yes. "And you saw someone?" Yes. "And she gave you this appointment letter?" Yes. "And you are here today?" Yes. I mean, c'mon. How far down the line of logic does this has to go? I was afraid that the next question from him would be: "And I work here?" Yes.

Finally, he figures it out, and I wait in the waiting room, only to be called and upon reaching the door, and told the above. I had to wait until Dr. L came into her office. I returned to the waiting room and this time, I ate half my lunch and went off to sleep. Fuck everything. I slept somewhat soundly. I had to keep one eye, or ear, open. And so I became privy to a conversation on the other side of the waiting room.

"And the newspaper had the nerve to print that Home- lessness is the lowest than it's ever been in the city in decades. That's complete and utter bullshit."

"You get these people here? These mother- fuckers should be ashamed of them- selves. I come here after busting my ass at my job for twenty years, and they give me this four hour wait shit, and these fucking immigrants come into this country and they hand them out these services like they deserve them."

"Get this shit. They find you a bullshit job, sweeping gutters or picking up trash in the parks in the meantime, for the parks department while they are supposed to be looking for a job for you, for a measly Sixty Five Fifty every two weeks. Isn't that shit less than minimum wage? They should be ashamed of themselves alright. Fuck if I'm doing that shit."

"Yeah. Don't they hand off jobs like that to ex-cons and shit with no training? The parks department shouldn't even have workers in it, if they are being handed all of this practically for free labor."

"Hobobob!"

I wake up, sit up, stand up. Shit, I'm woozy. I go to the door where my CASAC is standing. "She wants me to fax some release forms before she can speak to me about anything." We walk to the fax machine and she faxes her forms, then we head to her office, where I sign more forms. The phone rings. "Hello...Hello Dr. L. I need to ask you a few questions about Hobobob. Is he in your blah, blah, blah, and ho dee do, ho dee do."

I sit there listening. The system has made me its ward. It is my father, checking up on me. Well, I'll be damned. Just give me time baby, and I'll find my own way. I'll be able to keep a roof over my head and meds galore. Till then, I am at the mercy of THE NEW BOSS. Funny, it is same as THE OLD BOSS.

The CASAC hung up the phone. "Okay, Mr. Hobobob, you are in compliance. I had to verify that you were indeed undergoing therapy. You can go now." She tells me. Thank's for giving me my day back.

I take a quick stop at the library to get my emails out, and then head over to my therapy session. You know the one. The one I've been avoiding because it's just a room full of people that weird me out. I'm stressed the minute I walk in. But today there are a few of them to start. As soon as I sit down, Dr. D. begins to grill me as if my chair was the hotseat, and I was placed on The Spot. I answer as many questions as are given. I'm dealing with the scrutiny. I know it's been awhile, but please, give me a break. I would have much rather walked in and melted into the crowd.

But soon, we are going through our relaxation techniques to ward off panic attacks and stressful situations. I relax.

From therapy I head to Madison Avenue Starbucks. My home away from home, where I meet my brother and we type away all afternoon long. We are made perfect in our work. I wonder, with all of this effort, what can really hold us down?

I wonder, if energy is never wasted...what will we bring to bear? What will we give birth to?

I wonder.

Hobobob