It is a Monday once more. Grey, and drizzly, and damp, and a cold 41°. I did attend the cigar social alone. Bill encouraged it, but Mike was unable to join me. It was my third visit and it wasn’t as enjoyable as the previous visits. There were a few guys there that I met the week before, Jack who hosts, Dave, Brent, and Shane. There were other guys who were introduced to but not much beyond a nod of the head.

The wonderful Von Harris was nowhere to be found, which disappointed me. Other gents showed up who the regulars knew and hadn’t seen in a while, so there was catching up to do. I tried interjecting myself in their conversations. One was about Alan Cumming and another chat was about Andrew Scott. My words were accepted in the conversations but there was not much more than that.

I was not in the best of moods anyway. I applied for a job and had two interviews that went well. I was told a few days later the job was mine. Paperwork was going to be sent, and I filled out each article as it arrived via PDF. I was in a holding pattern and on Friday afternoon, I received an email that I was not being considered.

It seems that in my desire to get a job, I applied for a few positions in the same company, and this was a rejection letter from one of those applications. I emailed my interviewer thanking her for her time, and she replied today, asking what the email was about. I told her, and she asked that I forward the rejection email.

That was when I found out that it was for a different job; my offer still stands while they follow my background check. The initial offer email stated that I should keep looking for work while they did whatever it was they do for my onboarding process. And so I continue to send out applications.

Today, I had a camera interview that followed a brief phone interview, and I believe it went well. So much so, that I have another phone briefing before a camera interview tomorrow. It’s a bit nerve-wrecking after not having any real leads at all to coming to a fork in the road, the roda, which was offered though not 100% certain, or another job, which might require starting next week, instead of the other job starting the following Monday.

Bill is on the road again, and Mike was supposed to come over and spend the week hanging out here, but external forces at work put the kibosh on that. He was disappointed, I’ve been disappointed. Things got better over the weekend. He never really hung out with guys like me and Bill. We offer a safe space so he can freely speak his mind, and we watch movies and TV shows he might not have seen before.

But the 2nd runner-up in the Darwin Awards put a stop to that. It’s all a part of Mike’s story, which is his to tell and not mine. I do wish he were here and I certainly wish Bill was here; I miss their company, or as they like to call it, their PRESENCE.

Sad news that Dave Allen, the bass player from Gang of Four passed away over the weekend and I woke up to the news that Clem Burke, Blondie drummer had also shed his mortal coil.

Friday afternoon. Another evening, I plan to go to the cigar social. Once again, something prevents Mike from attending, which I am getting used to since I have a good time anyway. Whatever plans I make with Mike, there is always the chance that he will not be able to come with me.

Last week this happened; the time before, that happened. I take comfort in the fact that he will not read this, since if he did, he would more than likely be upset. I am not upset, like I said, I am getting used to it.

On one hand, part of me feels like I should not invite him to anything since he usually can’t make it, and on the other hand, a good friend will always invite someone even when they know the outcome will be a no-show. The whole Eeyore and his friends will always invite Eeyore despite Eeyore being so depressed.

I went through that scenario when working with the primates under Shahabudeena Khan’s impotent watch at Bratty McGrotty. I was depressed and even had a printout of a meme showing Eeyore and his dilemma, which went unnoticed by the primates. Honestly, I would have had better communication with Koko and her sign language skills than the homunculi by the postage machines.

Right now it is 69° and the forecast says it will likely be that way all night. Bill is on the road, and I was hoping for Mike’s company, but things being what they are, I will be flying solo, or at least walking solo. Right now, I am floating above being upset. The guys at the cigar lounge are good enough company, and this being the third visit, I do have my routine in order, travelling from point A to point B.

Laundry has been completed, and I have yet to take a shower, which means the laundry has not been hung out to dry. I suppose I will shower within the hour. Last week’s bus fiasco will probably recur again but this week I am ready for it. I have to figure out what to wear to the cigar lounge; something low cut will be out since I wore something low cut last week. I did wear flats, which did nothing for my bosom .

Mike just phoned with more of his tales of woe. It’s a tale I have heard before and will likely hear again. Waiting for the cable company to show up leaves him under house arrest. I would be content to stay at home but Bill suggested that I do go to the cigar lounge and that is what I will do.

There are places and things I hoped to show Mike and those things aren’t going anywhere as far as I know. They will be there if and when Mike is able to get it together and join me. And sometimes getting it together is not in Mike’s hands, external forces at work I reckon. I’d hate to think it was me, but who knows, really?