Roomful of Maniac Bitches

Whatever.

I wake up four hours later and I spend the day here, in my room, writing poetry and email. I email Doc. A. and asked him if I can come in on Friday, and he said, in his usual brief but loving manner: "Of Course." Gotta love that man.

I sent out e-mails to my guru, and worked on the Novel. I did a brief job search today but that was a kick in the balls. The certi- fication and credentials needed for a job today has gone through the roof. Literally. They want you to have a bachelors degree for the smallest, idlest job position. The demand is so great, you can find over-qualified dudes to work for pennies just to put food on the table. Outrageous. All because the job market sucks.

I sent out a scad of e-mail resumes to firms in Rochester because I was told that they were hiring, and by buzzing around job sites and Craigslist, I saw that they were hiring aggressively. But all my resumes come back dead. Nothing. Nada. Not even an email acknowledging receipt of the damn things. It's as if they were sent up in a bonfire.

If the job outlook doesn't start to look better soon, I'm going to have some chop to deal with. WHEEE- CARE will be breathing down my back soon to put me in their retarded vocational program any month now. That's going to be a real pain. Out everyday to be in crowds of people doing nothing. I never seen how much wasted time is called doing something in my life. I call it 'churning air', and they want you to come in and do it day after day. And even they realize how stupid it is, so they give you some scatterbrained job assignment to go off to to 'build your resume', which is a big piece of shit. They just want to get all of these fuckers out of their hair for some days during the week. It's probably the closest thing to corruption that I have ever seen in my life. If I wanted to be miserable about not finding any job prospects, I can do it at home. I don't need some second hand job recruiter looking only for jobs in the maintenance/security fields to search for me...and still find nothing.

Having to get dressed all pre- sentable, go to a classroom and read the newspaper or go through a lesson that you've gone through a million times, with dozens of other screwballs, no matter how good you are, you'll end up right back there in zombieland. Staring out the window, reading your favorite book for eight hours. At least I can walk for an hour at lunchtime to lose some weight.

Like I said. My everything, my ass, my work, my home, my future, my wife, my life, everything is dependent on if I can get my Novel published. That's the only way out that I can see for me right now. Or to rob a bank, or to inherit money. I'm just in the worst way possible. There is nothing in the foreseeable future for me. Not here, not now. Nothing.

So, I just spend my time, comfortably in the space pod here, awaiting the day that I get my reprieve and can leave it all behind. Then I'll look at it all and smile and say..."I survived even you." That's right. Off the streets, through the shelter system, AND transitional housing to gain freedom in a new home and job. Or bestselling book. OR just fucking published book. I would like/need that shit. Something. I have to shake my head. How did I get this fucked?

But I'm bitching, and you know when I bitch, I get wretched. So, I'll just keep quiet and eat my SpermHam sandwiches and relax. I'll drink expresso coffee all day long and stay up all night long staring into the big fucking eye of the Internet, or work on that damn Novel until I pass out. It's a monster, and there's going to be a lot of passing out before it gets done.

I do just that. Pass out working. It is cold and I wake up in the middle of the morning. That Air Conditioner, as much as I loved it during the summer, is a bitch in the winter. It lets the cold air right into the room as if the window is gaping open and old man winter is swinging cock and balls outside. Son of a bitch. I spent three years trying to avoid that crazy mother- fucker, only to have this air conditioner bring him right back into my life. I wake up shivering and put on my coat, that's how cold I was and climb into bed this time, having before fell asleep at the desk. I do this quiet easily and often now, since I've been editing the Novel. I've been sleeping in the chair much.

I drift off and rise again, this time the laptop's screen- saver, going through pictures of the ocean, beach, birds, and other beautiful things coastal, helps me to rise and put on my clothes. I dress quickly, and in my flip flops, go downstairs to Duane Reade for breakfast. I buy a ton of those SPAM singles, and shit for coffee. Cereal, not just for breakfast anymore, and outside at the corner shop, I buy a half dozen everything bagels. I have enough for SPAM sandwiches for the next two days. I am happy.

I return to the space pod without incident and slip in. Its cool inside, like it is outside, but it is not cold as it was when I woke. This is fine by me, I'm not taking my clothes off anyway. I have to do a massive amount of laundry. Almost everything I wear, everything that I own, is in a laundry bag. I'm going to have to resort to re-treads if I don't get out and do something. Maybe next week if everything goes well. I'll go out to the corner laundromat and fight with all of them fucking crazy homemakers who swoop down on that laundromat every morning like a monsoon, and then are gone in two hours. Now, Instead of trying to be the first one in the door, I wait until after those maniac bitches are gone

I'm not much in any mood today. Everything feels pretty drab. I'm online and I can't pick up the pace. It's gray. I wonder if it is supposed to be a gray day, or am I just tired. Tired already of the cold. Tired of the life. Tired of not sleeping. Tired of too much coffee. Tired of the job prospects. Tired of being tired of being tired of shit.

We all have our up days and down days....this is a down day.

Hobobob