Wednesday, February 25. Woke up to a snowstorm outside the window. I wanted to stay in bed, but that was not going to happen. I walked through the apartment, and Bill was up already. I showered and was out the door in my usual time and manner.

Yancy was scheduled to be in the office this morning so I was prepared only to find that he was not coming in. One less thing to worry about. Edu and Adam just arrived, musicians for a session this afternoon. Nice guys.

Another error popped up due to my early morning incomprehension. Yancy has called me out on it and will be mentioned during the Friday morning reception meeting at the major fruit stand. Not looking forward to it, but I have no choice. At least I get some extra sleep since I don’t have to appear until 9 AM.

I really need to slow down and read things carefully. Just because I thought I did doesn’t mean that I had. Anxiety and apprehension once again haunt me. Perhaps I have been letting things slide. I need to focus more. I thought I was, but apparently I haven’t.

So much bullshit is going on right now, no relief in sight. And the treacherous walk to the PATH train provides uneasy steps to the gallows in my mind. Bill is scheduled to be on the road once again from Thursday to Monday or Tuesday.

Am I an idiot? I think about my regrets too often, and then I think about people who say they have no regrets and have to think, what the fuck is up with that? I don’t believe anyone has any regrets or anyone has no regrets, actually. That is no way to live a life, I think of coffee pots, I think of my mother, I think of things I said, I think of things I’ve done, I think of things I didn’t do.

And it all leads me to this present moment, and I’m sitting in the bathroom at home after an arduous day, which wasn’t so bad; most of them were mountains made out of mole hills in my mind. It’s an easy-going job, and the site is greater and upsets the House of Cards that I built. Let’s face it, it’s fucked up, but I made it home in one piece. Some people don’t even get that, and I am grateful that I have made it home in one piece.

The Hoboken that I moved to is long gone. The people that I was friends with from back then have moved on, or I’m no longer friends with them and would rather not have anything to do with me, probably because they realize I’m an idiot and say some untoward things, which usually after I say it immediately regret saying it.

I am tired, more mental than physical, though I am sure the two will be synced up soon enough. A little bit too much drama today. And over the next two days, more will be expected.

Back at it on February 24. Tuesday, the day after the snow day. Treacherous walk to the PATH train this morning. Most buildings had shovelled sidewalks, some had shovelled but iced over sidewalks I was in my wellies that Bill had bought for me after super storm Sandy in 2012. They definitely come in handy when walking through snow drifts. Walking through snow drifts is generally safer than treading on ice. Involuntary twisting and turning causes distress.

So I am back at the fruit stand. Marcus and I just had an in depth chat about dating and sexuality. It was fun. I found myself in the role of a therapist, and Marcus was the patient spilling his guts (up to a point). Marcus is funny. Sometimes he’s close-lipped with not much to say at all, then there are times like today, where he is quite verbose.

I started writing this on the phone and never got back to it after 11:30 AM. Now I am home at 7:30 PM typing. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows 2 is on the television. Bill is on his way back after picking up and dropping off some cadets from there to somewhere else. It’s still winter, and it’s still cold out.

I spoke with my brother Brian earlier. I am going with him to attend our cousin Neil’s annual pizza party. Neil and his sisters were always close to me and mysiblings and now we have been shedding members; they lost 2, Ginger & Rosie, and we lost Francis. Lost isn’t the right word though, 3 dead siblings is harsh, but most truthful. It doesn’t have that Oscar Wilde ring to it: ‘To lose one parent seems unfortunate, but to lose two looks like carelessness.’ That’s from ‘The Importance of Being Ernest’

I first saw that in a broadcast in 1991 while living under my father’s roof and under his thumb. I mentioned that specific line to him back then, and he did not like it at all. He didn’t like me either. 4 and a half months living with him, despite the warnings of my brothers and sister, was a mistake, but it bought me time enough for Weehawken and Jane Street revealed themselves in October, and I was soon out of Lodi for the last time.

I have thought about moving back to that area, and we were offered a place to rent, but Bill was adamant on living out there, and I admit I had a rose colored memory feeding into a fantasy. It will be good to spend some time with Brian driving down to Bordentown. We rarely meet up these days, and time is running out for what is left of the two former residents of 13 Riverview Avenue.

What will we talk about? What music will we listen to? What questions does Brian have for me? It’s only going to be the two of us in the car, so right now on Tuesday night, I plan on being an open book. Saturday morning could be another story.