Well it’s another day off and whereas yesterday had been alright, a visit to the Guitar Bar, today is fraught with hurdles to leap. Nothing insurmountable but still it gets me down. A week or so I saw some nice, affordable items that I ordered for Bill online. An hour or so later I saw that I was double charged and so I contacted the company and they didn’t see it and suggested I call my bank.

I called the bank and asked them to look into it. They did and in doing so, promptly stopped my bank card from functioning. I did not know this until this morning when I tried to charge some groceries at the supermarket. The total was $5.36 and no I did not have the cash available on me, hence using the card. Rejected twice I used my emergency card and headed out of the market.

I tried calling my bank and waited for about 20 minutes on hold before a young man was able to help me. He saw I had claimed fraud where I only asked for an inquiry. I also explained to the young man that I was able to use the card several times since my initial call, only today it was rejected. After about five minutes he was able to activate my card again.

I was glad that that had been taken care of but still I am feeling the pressure. Maybe it’s the holidays- maybe it’s the ‘Sunday night syndrome’, being off today and headed back to work tomorrow. I am usually fine once at work but it’s the buildup that almost always gets me down. And today it’s all buildup.

Some good news though, the bonuses came in, and Sharon Burr was correct. The bonus was direct deposit and the usual payroll check which is always direct deposited, was not direct deposited. I was going to head into the city to pick it up but I just couldn’t bear to visit the cigar shack when I didn’t have to be there.

I sent Zack an email, telling him Bill would be picking up my check. I sent it at 12:43 this afternoon. Bill offered to pick it up for me and since my bank is open until 8:00 tonight I will run over there and deposit it. Over three hours later, no response from Zack. No “that will be alright if Bill picks up the check” and “No, absolutely not”. I’m sure it will be OK since Bill has more than likely picked it up or is en route and I expect to hear from him one way or another.

I just had a long phone call with my brother Frank. It was a good call, both of us in similar frames of mind. I have to be careful about saying how much alike our frames of mind are since if I am not careful it can turn into a pissing contest. “I am more depressed than you.” “No you’re not- I am angst ridden and quite morose” “Well I have 11 years of depression on you, so there!”

But it really wasn’t like that, it was a friendly commiserating. And of course dear old Dad entered the conversation, 12 years after shedding his mortal coil. I didn’t know that my grandfather on my father’s side was an immigrant. I had a feeling but I wasn’t sure. It certainly explains some things about my father’s personality, his upbringing and how he brought my brothers and sister and myself up, or rather brought us down.

Frank and I had to commiserate today since when we actually see each other on Christmas Eve there will be no time for such downbeat matters. Bill should be home in a few hours and I will help him up the four flights of stairs, with the heavy amplifier that was too heavy to bring upstairs after bringing up various other pieces of equipment and keyboards last night.

Hopefully he will tell me when he is on the bus so I can meet him, go to my bank, deposit the check and when we return home, could carry the heavy amplifier to the fifth floor. Well I made some dinner, some ziti with pesto and chicken. I took two bites when the smartphone chirped. It was Bill and he was at the Path terminal.

He had my check and I got myself together and headed out, catching a bus downtown so Bill wouldn’t have to wait too long. Then it was at the bank large bank, only one table where you can write your deposit or withdrawal slips, only room for two, I squeezed in to make it three. Then it was back home and as we walked I felt compelled to hold Bill’s hand as we walked up the boulevard.

In case of trouble I had my keys in my fist in my pocket. It is a political act, our showing of affection and I wanted to be prepared. We walked home as the Jehovah’s Witnesses were heading to their meeting. Some averted glances as we strolled, then it was carrying the very heavy amplifier up four flights to the fifth floor.

At least my food was still warm enough to eat and I did.









Christmas Blues