Losing Wednesday

I roll over, awake.

I have to take a leak...my morning leak. I hate that. I try to ignore it, but I really have to go to the bathroom. I sit up and look at the clock on the microwave. It's 2:15 in the morning. That's just great. If I get up and take my morning leak I'll never get to sleep again. But I have to go, so I get up and come back wide awake. I jump back into bed and close my eyes but I'm not sleeping. I'm not drifting off. I'm just laying there.

Don't you hate when that happens to you??

So I got up and got behind my computer and I have nothing to do but putter around. And as I putter around I find that I can upload a post to the blog if I had one. The morning rolls on as I compose email instead. A rather, long, lengthy one that takes some time to finish. When done and sent off I am drained. The time is now 4:00 in the morning. I climb wearily back into bed and crawl under the sheet. I turn off the A/C overnight for making the room too cold. I am asleep in moments.

I awake at 8:45. I don't really care. I roll back over and go to sleep. The Roach Motel will be a busy hive in a few minutes. I for my part, will not be among them. I have one more business card to go...or I just may go FTC. I have to decide. I want time. Time to take care of business over the phone that I don't get a chance to putzing around at the Roach Motel. I also want to work on my upcoming article this week for the online magazine. I've been running around like a monkey with a banana. It's time to stop.

I make a number of calls, one of them to reschedule my MRI for Monday. I have to get that done by hook or by crook. Whatever that means. I have much of the day to myself. Something that I haven't had in awhile. Something had to be done somewhere whereas now I had a ton of free time. Free time to curl up on the bed and listen to sad music. I feel melancholy today, down and out, as down and out as I am. I get this way sometimes when I don't take my WELLBUTRIN, and I missed a days dose. I know that it's only chemical and temporary so I slide into it easily. It's comfortable, soothing, quiet time.

There's nothing to be happy about. Nothing to feel triumph over or glad about. It's all downhill from this point, or this is how you feel. It's good to feed off of these feelings from time to time, I like to think. I crawl up under the sheets and feel miserable for the day. Later, I wake up and get behind my laptop and do a few emails, and surf for information. Nothing important, just information that is hard to find.

Then I work on the handbook. I get back to writing. Writing hard and mean. I want to write my way out of Hellywood and to a brighter tomorrow. Not back to the Roach Motel every day, watching life bleed out of me at the same viscosity as my staying home and doing the same. I was more animate, did more things when I was fucking homeless and living on the streets. Some how shelter life and SRO living has spoiled me greatly. I have lost my edge. While my Streeter brothers are out there fighting every day to make it to the next, I am here, growing fat, eating fruits and taking pills.

Something has got to stop here. Something has got to change, and change in a big way for me to continue on like this. I need for the skies to open up and rain on this arid, desert land that is my life. I need a fucking break, be it a job out of the clear blue skies, or from one of my resumes, letters to editors, or work on the online magazine. I just need something to go my way other than the wind.

The airconditioner comes on behind me, humming and blowing cool air against my naked back, chilling my spine. I smile. I remember that the only way to get air conditioning was to go to the nearby Starbucks and hope for a seat. I hate my weakness. I have indeed grown weak to live here in what I feel is the lap of luxury, but I've seen people living in the real lap of luxury. I guess everything is relative. This is just a low rung on the social ladder. Not as low as some, but indeed lower than others.

I clear my mind like rubbing out a chalkboard. I am pleased that my mind is clear and not cluttered with confusing thoughts. I was in turmoil earlier during the day, now I am at a strange peace. I have a big day tomorrow with my case worker who I'm going to have to deal with about all of my days off. She probably has a thick folder filled with my medical excuses, and she should have. I've made it my job to fill up that damn folder. Like I tried to tell the intake asshole that forwarded me to this place, that I have a number of medical appointments that I must make during the week. She blew right past that as if I was going to blow right past it. Wrong.

I'm going into another vegetative state for the rest of the evening. If I had a television, I would curl up in front of it and turn off my brain. Instead I'll probably read a nice, fat James Clavell novel and prepare for a good night's sleep.

That is a good thing

Tomorrow is another.

Hobobob