Future Imperfect

Aright, I fucked up today.

I had the SHOUT OUT to do on my own, and I did it all. I'm trying to be upbeat in the beginning and it is beginning to work. I had a screwdriver to get over the hump, and then another to get over the second half. This is not good, but it's what I need to get the job done for right now. And getting the job done is what is most important to me.

It's Halloween again. After the SHOUT OUT, I say goodnight to Cyndi Lauper, who's turning into a pretty good friend. D2theL has plans. DLite does to. He's going to the Parade tonight. T-Fuk and Joey are heading to his book release. I wanted to really go, but the SHOUT OUT ends when it begins, and I don't really feel like walking in AFTER T-Fuk reads, and then have to sit through the entire thing just to talk to him. Plus, it cost eight dollars. I won't have that kind of cash until AFTER the SHOUT OUT!

I head home after getting a bag full of fried chicken from the Kennedy's next door. No heading to Starbucks with OBSIDIAN. It's just me. I didn't bring my laptop anyway, so there's no hanging out for me tonight. I head home. Back to my open hole. The capsule. I close the airlock behind me, turn on the control console and the environment systems, and make myself comfortable behind the flight deck. I am back in the place where I am supposed to be. On the Internet.

I live on the Internet. There is a ring on my bell. I just walked in. Who is this? Fuck 'em. The bell rings again. Forget that. It soon stops and I rest. The intercom blares. I sit up. What the fuck?? The intercom blares again. Should I answer it? It blares again. No doubt some stupid security guard thinking that I have a guest in the room and telling me that they have to leave. They are always getting shit like this screwed up. They're not the brightest bunch of keystone kops in town.

I soon drift off to sleep, and in the morning I have to use the bathroom. I look for my keys. And I look for my keys..... and I look for my keys. I'm all over the room, up and down, every square inch, looking for the fucking keys. I have to use the bathroom like a motherfucker now. I leave the door open and run, do the deal, and then get back. Ahead of me is Paula, she turns to look over her shoulder, "OH Hobobob! Did you get your keys?" My what? "Your keys were in the lock last night. I called security and told them to come and get them." That's why the fuckers were on the door and the intercom. I was dumb enough to leave my keys in the door. I ride with Paula down the elevator. "They told me to bring them down. I told them that they can forget that," she informs me. "God forbid something goes missing in your room and they say, well, she brought down the keys that night." I understand the concern. Thanks for calling security. "OH Hobobob! I'm engaged!" She throws up her hand and waves around a silver ring with a big, glass marquis shaped rock in its center. I feel good for you, Paula. Congratulations. "Thank you."

I go downstairs and get my fucking keys. That's another trial. I tell the security guard downstairs that I have keys down here and he looks around not finding anything. He even goes as far as to tell me that no one said anything about having anyone's keys downstairs. Dude. They HAVE my keys down here. I have to search with him and we find them on a peg against the wall. Pray that your life isn't in their hands. That's all I can say.

But of course my life has to have a counterpoint to all of this. The next morning I'm sleeping and the bell rings, so I say....what now? Right? And open the door. And there's a drunk standing on the other side, speaking to the door. He doesn't even register me, he's just staring straight ahead at the door. He says: "Is the old lady here?" I tell him there's no old lady here. "No? No old lady here?" I slam the door in his face, since he was talking to the door anyway.

Severe little world that I live in. Things are tough all over for me. I can't seem to stay up ahead of things, and because of this, I have to admit, it's hard to live my life this way. I could use a change. A friend of mine said that things will not be this way forever. That my circumstances will change and I'll look back at all of this as if it was a nightmare. I look around and it is true. This is a life that is completely opposite from my life before, when I lived in another world, when I lived in another life, in someone else's skin.

I wonder what my future will be.

Do I have a future?
Hobobob