Monthly Archives: January 2013

I Sing the Body Electric

Well I just got home from the first day of a temp to perm assignment. I duly bought some Lilt and permed my hair over the weekend. It’s not bad but there is that Chia resemblance I was really hoping to avoid. The first day of the assignment was of course preceded by a day full of anxiety. Things got better after an Alprazolam. I don’t take them often, just when I am freaking out which you might be surprised to read, does not happen that often. And the hug from Bill last night certainly helped, and I am glad I asked for it.

I went to bed earlier than usual and I slept soundly thanks to the Alprazolam. I woke up with Bill kissing me good bye, so happy to see that I had something real to go to. The cigar shop antics were really pissing him off, so much so that he swore he would never set foot in there again. I slept some more after Bill headed off in the early morning light before the voice in the back of my mind and the alarm clock did another duet of ‘Get the Fuck out of Bed Now!’

I shuffled along, made some coffee and stepped into the shower. A shave after that, some coffee and cereal and there was also a sandwich to be made for lunch. Then I got my clothes together, a suit and tie combo and headed out. It had been a while since I waited for the bus in the morning and to my surprise found an orderly line. And it being so early, there were plenty of buses to ride. But the driver named Chief was nowhere to be around. I found a seat on the bus and hoped to sleep but that wasn’t going to happen.

I was due to be in the office at 8:30 and of course I was there at 8:28. Not many people were in and I was set up in a cubicle and I waited. Francois was the one I was waiting for. I was still fuzzy with the Alprazolam which turned out to be a good thing since the anxiety was nonexistent. Francois made it in, and handed me some paperwork to fill out. I do like Francois, he’s a nice guy and a friend of a friend which made it that much more special.

Basically I spent the day looking at a computer learning package all day, and taking notes on various aspects of it. I worked alongside two nice guys David and Graham. They mainly kept to themselves but were handy to have around if and when I had some questions. I also drank a lot of water today. For lunch I ate my sandwich and went for a walk around what used to be my area from the Wanker Banker days. Most of the spots where I could get a cheap meal have been replaced by rug sellers and housewares stores. I walked along looking into windows.

After work, I walked the same route that I used to take to the Path train. I enjoyed a cigar as I walked and listened to a David Bowie playlist. As I crossed Vanderbilt and 42nd Street a woman tapped me on the shoulder. I took out the ear buds to hear her say how much she enjoyed the smell of my cigar and that it reminded her of her father. I said I was glad to provide a good memory and wished her a good night. She wished me the same and was on her way.
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It Don’t Come Easy

I Should Have Known It

Today is just an ugly day. It started out cold with snow, then cold with damp and now cold with rain. I was outside exactly one time, no need to go out again. IT’s been an antsy day, watching the laundry dry on the racks, not letting it pile up into a mountain, but instead having a little hill instead, which was much easier to manage. And the weather suits my state of mind. All my outdoor activities were a trip to the bibliothèque, to the dry cleaners to drop off hangers and the supermarket where people were generally inconsiderate and vacant. I did run into people I know, which was good.

It was the times when no one was around that I found myself muttering under my breath as I walked the streets. No more texts from Shlomo and his gang of cigar store Zionists. It was nice of Israel to give me that can of kerosene and a box of wooden matches that night at the bridge. The bibliothèque was quite a shelter for those coming in from the rain and snow and cold. From there it was to drop off the coat hangers and then to the supermarket which with each passing day gets more annoyingly mismanaged.

Last night Bill came home after spending the day with his mother. She’s not doing so well and Bill tries to go see her every chance he gets. Since he only drove the bus on Friday, he was free on Saturday and Sunday. Saturday we watched Lincoln and Sunday he watched his mother. I was out and about for a little while yesterday but mainly stayed indoors. Bill came home in time to watch an awards program that he voted in and of course every time someone he voted for won, a cheerful yell was heard in the apartment.

He went to bed soon after that, around 10:00 and I of course stayed up watching the news before I too went to bed. Slept soundly I think and woke up with anxiousness in my mind. With each passing minute the anxiety made itself known and that is why muttering under my breath when outside seemed to help, and I was able to control it when talking to friends that I saw. It was those moments alone when the butterflies in my stomach made their presence known in my gut and in my mind which I sometimes confuse.

I’m sure everything will be alright, can’t do nothing about the past and tomorrow isn’t here yet and I am sure there are things I can better fill the present with than anxiety. Bill just came home and I can focus on him instead. I have Kindle on my tablet and finished reading Diane Keaton’s memoir, titled Then Again. It’s about Diane Keaton and it’s also about her mother, going through her mother’s papers and writing after she had passed away. It was a good read and if you like Diane Keaton you will probably like it a lot.

I did use Google Analytics again. It’s been awhile and I was able to see that one person from Bayside was online reading stories that seemed to involved a certain friend of mine from the recording studio days. It was addictive as I read what they were reading for a few minutes and tried to figure out what it was they were looking for. I enjoyed it, for a few minutes I watching someone else read what I wrote. Sort of like looking over their shoulder as they read. And when they stopped reading, so did I.
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