I was out cold last night. Slept like a rock. I was hurtin’ from the Chiropractor so I took a Tylenol PM. By 11:15 was having difficulty keeping my eyes open. Bill went to bed at roughly the same time and we cuddled as I fell into the arms of Morpheus. So deep was the sleep I know not of what I may have dreamt. But I woke up feeling all right, a little groggy, but otherwise samo samo. Puttered about, not bellyaching about having to go to work, for I wanted to see what condition Felicia might be in. I tried calling her last night but got no answer.

I walked to the Path, got some bananas from Plantain man with his pup tent. He’s been looking pretty good lately and has been smiling a lot when I get my bananas. I was listening to the Clash, ‘Sandinista’. A great record, I was playing disc two. One big regret I have is never going to see the Clash live, though I’ve had a few opportunities. What the fuck was I thinking? I mean, they played about 25 shows at Bonds in Times Square in 1980 and I never got it together to go. I suppose I was afraid of having to go alone. That prevented me a lot back in the day. I got over it a short time later.

I got off the Path train at Ninth Street and walked down Sixth Avenue, stopping to get a bagel on Carmine Street. Got the free newspapers and the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal for the office. Set about starting up the office, making a ton of coffee, changed into the extra t-shirt that I keep there since I turn into a big Irish sweater when the temperature goes above 75 degrees. People started to dribble in about 45 minutes later as I sat at my desk. Felicia came in and didn’t look bad at all, no outward signs of having had a seizure.

We chatted and discussed the events that happened yesterday. I was really glad to see her, since I wouldn’t have to be running the show by myself. She was up for the task when all of a sudden, I just lost interest in most everything. I was really fed up and disgusted with working there. Granted I had been in contact with Mark and been leading him on, and I realize that tomorrow I’m going to have to tell him I’m not going to leave McMann and Tate.

I had an epiphany. You see, I said I wasn’t feeling too well and they sent me home around 3:00. I wasn’t physically ill, just wanted to get the hell out of there. I feel better now. The epiphany is that this is my job. I have to hang in there. This might be a symptom of the last fitting in pains. I certainly don’t want to have to go through the whole process of starting at a new job all over again. I came up with the plan to stay at McMann and Tate for a year and decide what to do next April. Seems like a good plan. Anything could happen between now and then.

So the mantra today, and probably for the rest of the week/month/year, will be to hang in there. It was the same mantra last month. Maybe I’m having my period. I don’t know.