Ever have one of those days when it feels like everything is going wrong? Ever have a week of those days? How about a month? Well that’s how it’s been lately. No, it hasn’t been all darkness but man the light shining seems to be so rare these days. Hit by a crippling wave of depression at the tail end of the day.

Hard to force a smile. Hard to get into that Holiday Spirit when so lacking in spirit. Financial woes, work woes. It’s a wonder that I haven’t taken up drinking. Actually did split a bottle of wine with Julio last night, but he seemed to have gotten more of a buzz from it than I did. I had Bill on my mind, and I had bills on my mind.

I’m sure it would feel different in November or January. But it’s now, and here I am. I am getting fucked by my job. At least they’re using a condom, but the condom is made of sandpaper.

A memo was distributed last month stating that the bonuses will be handed out today. Everyone got theirs, except for me and Christina.

True, we get paid every other Friday, and everyone gets paid on the 15th and the 30th, but we both were expecting a check today, and another one tomorrow. But this was not to be of course. And the people in charge of this were out today. How bloody fucking convenient.

So money expected was not received. We’ll have to hang in there for a few more hours I suppose but what was promised was not delivered. There was that, there was having to sign 200 holiday cards for a director in an affiliated company. That wasn’t so bad, because I like those people. They gave me a box of Godiva Biscotti, which I gave to the cleaning woman at work

It wasn’t all bleak though. I took some snapshots. If it weren’t for art, I’d probably go nuts.

2006 around the corner. Will it be a better year? That would be nice but my hopes aren’t going to be held that high.

One of my favorite people, Tony who makes my egg sandwiches once a week. A great decent man. I don’t kid myself about my ‘bond’ with him since we chat no more than maybe 10 minutes a week. He always asks for Bill and we chat during the warmer weather about those hot chicks that wear less.

I do my straight bit, and I guess he buys it.
Then again he always asks about Bill. So maybe he does have a clue.

I was supposed to go to a holiday party for Seven Stories Press in Tribeca with Bill’s wonderful cousin Hiram. Bill wasn’t going to make it since he had his own holiday party to go to, so I opted to join Hiram, but as the day wore on and the depression set in, I decided against it. I texted Bill to let him know.

I think Bill felt that Lewis Lapham, Kurt Vonnegut, Art Buchwald, Barry Crimmins and Paul Krassner were going to reprise their Evening of American Satire or at least show up at the party but I had my doubts. Then in the midst of texting, Hiram’s sister Carmen, told Bill to tell me not to go since Hiram wouldn’t be attending. Crazy weather in South Jersey and not worth the drive.

Fine. I had a party with dear Brenda who I work with at the hotel across the street from work. I stood outside in the light sleet having a smoke when a woman in a hooded jacket asked me what the time was. ‘Almost 6:30’ I said.

Then I noticed it was Rue McClanahan. I asked if I could trouble her to take her picture and she obliged.

See? It wasn’t so bad after all.

Had a few drinks with Brenda, no food, the lines were so long. Like peasants getting free milk. Then I escorted Brenda back to the office and walked down 5th Avenue, smoking my cigar.