Running To Catch a Bullet

T-Positive one day and counting.

Houston, we have systems standard, pumps working, valves fine, checkback positive. FAILURE in first stage separation primary. Going to secondary.

OF course there's fine print. Are you kidding me? But in computers, the fine print can occur after you hit a submit key, and then, inactivity. Computers can fail to do something AND THEN give you the reason why. That can be construed as computer fine print.

Going back just a few hours. I awoke smoothly and hopped up at 8:30am I was so proud of myself that I could have jump back, turned around and kissed myself. I went downstairs for breakfast, bringing it back up to my room. I sat on my bed for a moment and stretched out for a minute, and blacked out. I stretched out and called it a day. When I awoke it was time for me to get up and get ready to go to my therapist's office.

That' right, I woke up at 1:30pm. My case was scheduled for 9:30am. I slept right through it like a baby in a manger. I hope that everyone in the court room, which is just two overworking losers, a judge and an assistant. I don't know if WECARE is sending anyone. I hope that they did, so they had to send them home only to return again if they grant me my adjournment. Because, like I said, if they don't I'll only refile and call it a day. I'll just keep going and going, and going, until I get my day in court. And if I lose that, well, I'm going to appeal, and appeal, and appeal. I'm not going to have to spend a day at WECARE ever again, because I'll be the aggravation of the court until they realize: "Hey, don't you get it? This motherfucker loves to be here more than WECARE. WECARE must really suck."

Before I leave for my session, I've got a few minutes right? So I go to the website for the fair hearing and try out the E-adjournment page. This is the same form that you use to request for a fair hearing, so I know that this form works, I fill it out with my form filling tool and type in today's date, the date that I want to have the adjournment for. When I press submit a failed form pops up, stating that the adjournment date can't be filed on the same date of the hearing. Now wouldn't it be time conscious to have that in the body of the text in the front of the webpage? That way I wouldn't have to go through all that form filling aggravation to get that as my answer to my adjournment. Fucking Bathtub Admirals. Well, it has to be done tomorrow. Or maybe a later date.

I go to the session and I tell them about going to the park and what not but how I almost freaked out in tight spaces. Dr. D. thought it was good that I went anyway. Sometimes, I wish that all of the drugs that I'm on now, caused me to snap, right there in therapy, so I can hang off the ceiling and show them what a panic attack looks like. But these drugs are effective. They keep me quite mellow and sedated. I don't know what you want to call it, but that's what it is. I'm reigned in here.

I'm glad that I am, because I really would have freaked out and had a panic attack after one of the patients at the table goes on about how she is fighting with the people in her SRO. They want to kick her out because she doesn't have a job. I felt for her imme- diately, because there are no jobs out there to get. They are a source of constant stress for her, so she is popping stress pills along with her anti-anxiety pills. She's in really strung out shape.

Then there is a guy, who has to comment about his SRO, festering with drug dealers and pimps, and all around scary mother- fucking people. His girlfriend got mugged coming in to see him, and he fears for his life every time he comes home. He's begged management to do something and they do nothing at all, they don't even call the cops anymore because they don't come.

Now, of course you know, I'm shitting myself. Here I have a 24 hour doorman, immaculate hallways, warm, loving managers who really take an interest in all that you do, and I'm bitching and moaning? I'm popping shit? What is wrong with me.

And then I realize that NOTHING is wrong with me. My fight is not with THE SPOT, my fight is with WECARE. It's HRA that has made it personal and put my home on the card table. They're throwing everything that they have at me, and I'm supposed to flinch just because the stakes are high. Remember, I used to have my own company. I love it when the stakes are high. If I fail, well I failed, that's just bad Karma. But if I win, I'll have done something much better than I have done in my entire days after homelessness, I'll have beat the system. Even if I lose I'm fighting to win.

I walked today for thirty minutes. I was depressed and tired. Because of being laid up with the gout, my nice long hour, two hour walk has been reduced to thirty minutes, and I'm still gaining weight. Shit. Tomorrow is always a new day to try again. And again, and again. The night is falling fast around me. I'm getting tired for a change...errr, it's two o'clock in the morning. Shit. It's late already. I'm up typing like a maniac. Every day, every single day, I'm typing my heart out. I'm probably one hell of a typist. Fuck.

I'm going to crawl into bed. And don't think I'm not very grateful to have one.

Because, believe it or not, I love my room.
Hobobob