Take a Flying Leap Around the Sun

I wake up feeling good

I know that this feeling will be slapped the fuck down before the day is over. There is always something to put its foot into your good feelings. Always. Don't build up too many of them. I get up. I'm supposed to be going to my WEP assignment at that church uptown for WEFFUCK, but I'm not going anywhere. They can kiss my ass when it comes to that assignment. I'm not going back there unless they make me an offer that I can't refuse.

That's what they will have to do. I get online a little, check my emails and then crawl back into bed. I wake up later in the day. I'm meeting with DJ in the evening. Other than that, I really have nothing to do. I languish in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, naked as the day I was born. Yes, even with the air conditioner running I still keep it up at 85 degrees and I refuse to put on clothes.

I hear someone locked outside of their apartment. Their key going in and out of their lock, the handle of the door being tried over and over again. It must be Paula across the hall. That's the only door close enough for me to hear someone trying to enter in. She continues to work on the door, key in, key out, key in, key out. I roll over on my side. The sound moves to both of my ears and narrows on my door. I look at the handle. It moves.

I jump up, now I hear the key going in and out of my door clearer now, sounding like a hacksaw, working back and forth. I put on my gown and open my door. There is a man on the other side, key in hand, bowed, so concentrated on the lock that it took him a second to realize that the door opened and that there was someone behind it. He jumps back, holding the key out defensively, as if it was a knife, yelping. "HOLY SHIT!" he exclaims. It still takes him a few seconds to look at the door and then back at me. "Is this the ninth floor?" He asks, terrified. No, it isn't, bub. "OH shit man, I'm sorry!" He backs away, as if afraid to turn his back to me. That's alright. I shut my door.

I look at the clock. It's almost Nine O'clock. I head downstairs to get breakfast and bring it up to my room, eating a buttered roll and a yogurt before getting back online and answering emails. I take another nap, growing tired. Then later, I try to call my dope contact. The answer machine picks up. I hang up. I call again later, same outcome. Fuck this. I put on my clothes and hit the bricks, striking down the block, heading downtown.

The day is hot, the sun strong on the East side of the street. I go to the West side of the street where long afternoon shadows of the buildings make for a cooler sidewalk. I weave and duck through the foot traffic, making my way downtown to Columbus Circle, 59th street, turning East and crossing the breadth of Manhattan Island to get to the East side, Madison avenue, then back on a course downtown to 42nd street where I hop a subway and take it the rest of the way down to Astor place. In all, the walk took me an hour and a half.

I get to Astor place Starbucks and order a Vivianno and by the time I get to a chair, DJ is standing outside the window, looking in at me. I go outside, dreading if he wants to walk around and talk. I could feel the stress and strain of the walk in my knees, buttocks and hips. He offers to take me to dinner and my heart leaps. Of course! I wanted to get off my feet for a while so bad I could almost cry. We go to a favorite Thai restaurant which has a backyard patio where we drink Thai beer and eat up a storm. DJ is uniquely funny and we laugh and chuckle the night away. Later, I take him for desert at a nearby Tea House. Finally, we call it a night and I take the Way back uptown. I want to get home before late simply because I have a meeting with my case worker at 9:30am. I know that this meeting is going to go South. It will turn from sugar to shit in seconds so I want to get it over with. If they penalize me for anything I'm taking them to Fair Hearing.

What they don't realize is that I'm not stupid, and neither to be victimized by them just because I'm unem- ployed. I paid into this system since I was sixteen years old, and they can't treat me like a human for three? Fuck them. I'm tired of taking it in the ass. I tried it their way. Now we'll have to deal with them doing it my way for a change. I see they didn't like me hammering them with doctor notes. It will only get worse for them. Worse and worse.

Further, and what is really surprising, is that I'm not catastro- phizing. I'm not fretting over tomorrow. It's just another day. Normally I would be beside myself, sweating bullets, not being able to appreciate anything, the taste of food, good company, my room or air conditioning. No, nothing. But I feel nothing. No anxiousness, no nervousness. Nothing. This is a good feeling. I'm able to face the day tomorrow without fear. There is no marching band in my head going in circles, blowing taps for me. I am free of the fear. It's that goddamned. LUVOX. I kiss the fucking bottle.

I get an email. It says in the subject line: "RE: Systems Operations Internship (Midtown)"

My heart soars. It's a response from one of my resumes that I sent out! Holy shit, if I get this internship, I'm going to walk into my case worker's cubicle tomorrow and turn her desk over, dumping her shit all over the floor, computer and all.

Dear Hobobob,
Upon careful assessment of your qualifications, we have decided not to pursue your candidacy at this time. We will, however, maintain your resume on file and contact you should the appropriate opportunity arise. As a small token of our appreciation for your time, we would like to extend to you a $30 discount, one time use only, on your next Bluefly order of $150 or more. To redeem this offer, simply enter code {THANKYOU30} at check-out, press recalculate, place your order, and enjoy the extra savings. Again, we thank you for your interest in Bluefly and we wish you much success in your future endeavors.
Sincerely,
Human Resources

My heart sinks in my chest. There is no escape from the madness. Simple as that. Well, at least they had the courtesy to contact me and let me know that I'm going into the circular file. The others that I sent out haven't sent me back shit. I can take a flying fuck around the sun for all they care.

I blog. I wait. I go to bed.

Hobobob