Crippled inside

Billy Hunt- the song by the jam playing in my head right now as I walk to the PATH train at 7:10 a.m. Once again I am dictating. I’m reminded of what Truman (tripping) Capote said about Jack Kerouac: “that’s not writing that’s typing” Well in this event that’s not typing that’s speaking.

Now Orange Juice with Lovesick plays in my head.

At the fruit stand once more. It is quiet at the moment. I had an impromptu training course with Yancy which opened the traumatic wounds of education throughout my life. Information is thrown at me. I do my best to absorb it all. I try to take notes and it doesn’t seem to work because when I look at my notes they don’t make any sense at all and I’m the one who wrote them.

I try to explain that the job might be easier handled if I get to play around with these programs on my own time, and Yancy keeps explaining that it’s okay to make mistakes, trying to figure me out on this program which brings Marcus and his suggestion and telling me that no one wants to see me fail.

It was a reminder of how I was taught. Nowadays it seems children, students have more hands-on training then I did growing up. Basically I was thrown in the deep end.

I recall being summoned to the blackboard to do a math equation and I could not do it and I stood there crying. The class ended. My classmates went to the next class. The nun who was running the class had me stand there while the new class came in wondering why I was still there and crying.

Just a bit of trauma in my educational history. And it’s that trauma on which I built my schooling.
Just running that down had those bad memories resurface. I was in an online chat with people I went to grammar school with and they were talking about how this certain nun (none) was the best, so nice and everything.

It’s not the same nun (none) I was talking about that made me stand up by the board but a different nun (none) that kicked me over because I did not know how to do my confession properly so I deserve to be beaten. This is the type of nun (none) that my former classmates admired whereas I carry the trauma

It does explain a lot- generations after me at an easier time with their education whereas I was just thrown into the mill. Today’s kids seem to have classes built around them but my generation were just thrown right into it and here I am 50 years later still licking my wounds

Sister Mary Octavian
Sister Annelle
Sister Timothy
Sister Christine Marie

This afternoon, I was working alongside Violet again. A woman had a problem with fruit stand access which needed the program that Yancy was showing me this morning. The method Yancy used might’ve worked for other people at the fruit stand but it made me nervous.

A few hours later I needed to help that woman out. Violet came over and directed me on what to do. Easy going. Enter this. Click that. Move that. Put this in. Now send. Tah dah! It was so understandable. Nothing against Yancy but Violet’s method was a breath of free air.

It made all the difference.

♫ Dictator dictator make me a dick…♪

It is the last Monday in August. In fact it’s the last day in August. Once again I dictate notes into my phone. It’s been an okay weekend. I look forward to the next one which is 3 days and the one after that will be four days.

Mike was supposed to come over on Saturday after his beloved Wade (weed) left but Mike stayed home and it worked out just fine. Bill (it) was on the road and coming back in the middle of the night between Saturday and Sunday.

I am the team player I am at the fruit stand today and from Tuesday Wednesday Thursday and Friday I will get the other fruit stand (footsteps) for I am a team player. There are no other fruit stands (footsteps) but there is another fruit stand. The fun of dictation goes on.

My sister is flying to the south of France with her husband tomorrow. It must be nice. I was supposed to go out to Garfield on Saturday but Elaine was in the Poconos so I did not go. I did go to the cigar lounge in Hoboken which I usually walked by. It was okay I spoke to Roc the owner.

I did not mention the last time I was there was April 20th 2024. I went there bought a cigar and sat on a couch and was asked to move since people were expected to be coming in. So instead of sitting there in another spot I just got up and walked out. No need to bring that up at the moment.

I did my bike ride yesterday and that went well. I actually crossed paths with Yancy. I was pedaling up Grove Street going with the traffic and Yancey was frantically pedaling against the traffic on a city bike. I saw him he did not see me I did not make any overtures to him and let him go on his merry way.

I will more than likely see him tomorrow so perhaps I’ll bring it up then and he will say why didn’t you say hello and I will remark that he had to look determination and going down a one-way Street did not want to distract him. Plus I only get paid to speak to him and that was my time.

The internet seems rather sketchy today. At least at work. And it’s not just me.
So tomorrow I will be at the other fruit stand and I’m trying to have a better attitude about handling my stage fright as best as I can.

Next weekend is a three day weekend like I might have said before so I just have to make it through these five days four of them days will be at the other face now fruit stand

Well it’s turning into a great afternoon. I guess rain will be coming probably when I head out at 5:00 p.m. I found out that it’s just not my dictation here but when there is a closed caption request on various songs the lyrics come out quite differently for example Bruce Springsteen singing The Times They Are A Changing by Bob Dylan the lines “if your time to you is worth saving and you better start swimming or you’ll sink like a stone for The times they are a changing” the last line with closed captioning was for the times the energy angels.

I like it but it’s not right. I think when I dictate and it mishears me, I wil keep their mistake and put it in parentheses.