Monday. Return of the blasé. It was all downhill this weekend after the Scissor Sisters concert. Juan dropped me off, he went home I went to bed. The next day, Saturday was spent avoiding newbies with their legit IDs lining up outside of bars and later avoiding the messes they left behind. Sunday was spent briefly outside looking at the wreckage from the night before, broken bottles, puddles most everywhere, sometimes chunky. Bill was out of sorts all weekend. He was like that from Friday through today. He’s pissed and would like to mess up the director’s skull with his bare hands.

There’s no talking to him when he’s like this and it’s near impossible to avoid him since this apartment is small and cluttered. He’s sitting on the couch, stewing. It’s best to let him be, so I’m letting him be. I didn’t know he wasn’t going to work until my alarm clock woke me up and I was surprised to see him laying there. I shook him a bit to ask him if he was going to work and he rolled over and said he needed to rest. I showered, made coffee, had some cereal and got dressed. I was on Washington Street soon enough and rolling down the boulevard towards the Lincoln Tunnel.

Work is very much routine. I do know for a fact that I’m not making nearly enough money and this insurance plan leaves something to be desired, like having full benefits paid for like it’s been at the last jobs that I’ve had. The last three jobs to be exact. I do a lot of work and the payoff isn’t what I would like to be. I put word out to the three job counselors to start looking again. I don’t want to have to leave but the money is dictating my circumstances. I work with nice people who are always telling me what a good job it is that I’m doing, but that doesn’t translate into cash now does it?

I settled and took the first job offered, but then again I was at the end of my rope so to speak and I wasn’t too keen about working in Soho. I do enjoy midtown. I’d even work downtown by Wall Street if I was offered a job down there. But I will have to wait and see what happens. I heard from Mindy, but nothing from Lawrence or Matt. These three are the counselors I was talking about.

I don’t know if I’ll be writing tomorrow night as I am attending the memorial service for Arif Mardin at Lincoln Center. I received the invitation in January and RSVP’d for Bill and myself, only to find out Bill won’t be able to attend. He’s a deacon in his church now so that means he’s spending more time with god than with me. Whatever works I suppose. I was hoping he’d come but no theres some function he needs to attend to. I’m sure he’ll be out of his funk for that, and more than likely back in his funk when he comes home. I would love to be wrong on this.