At it again I see. I am trying to get into the habit of daily writing once more. Not broadcasting the news, just writing. If people find out, then that’s fine. If they don’t, they don’t. Last go around I did yell into the void to see if anyone or anything would respond. There were my faithful two, my sister Annemarie and good ol’ Harry. I knew they read the blog and heard of others that read it, but no one stepped forward to say ‘Hi”.

This time I think I am better equipped to deal with the silence. Especially if I am not reaching out in the darkness. This is day 3 and yes, I can write. My once great Legume now drifting towards estrangement mentioned that I have a way with words and I just looked at him dead in the eye and said ‘You have no idea’.

And I don’t think he knows of this so let’s keep it that way. Seems more like heavy lifting this trying to create a habit of writing every day. But here I am. Bill noticed and stayed out of my way which was sweet. I told him didn’t need to be. A moment of irony- just now while writing that last sentence Bill calls from another room asking me to come in and hear something he had just written.

Bill did tell me he was going in the room for one hour to work and I figured I could use that hour to write, but he didn’t know I was writing since he was in another room 20 feet away. So my flow was interrupted but here I am writing. It was not that big a deal.

I purchased a book from a dear friend of mine from the Hoboken/Weehawken days, Cheryl Welch. I saw she had posted something online on social media and was quite taken with it. Another seed planted. I told her so this afternoon and she actually visited this here blog and quoted it back to me. We’ve traveled in close orbits for years and now she’s in California and she seems very happy!

It’s a humid evening in this mile-square city. And it’s been raining quite a bit for the past couple of hours. It seems to have stopped leaving one feeling that they’re wearing a wet wool sweater.

How do I write? Do I plan it out? Rarely, if ever. It just pours forth from my brain to my fingers usually unexpurgated. Then I would read it and publish it. Then I edit. Yes I know, it’s rather haphazard but that is how I roll, or in this case, write, or as Truman Capote would call it, typing.

Can anyone do it? I believe so. Should everyone do it? Maybe, maybe not. Hey, I’m just trying to get into the swing of things, getting some words on a computer screen. It would be cool if it were a typewriter and paper, but with these typing ‘skills’ the sheet of paper would be mostly covered by White-Out.

Another day. Day two. Détente? I have to say my typing skills however meager as they were, are much worse now. Perhaps practice will improve and by practice, I mean by writing daily.

The job I have today, the job I have now. I’ve had it for 3 years, Started June 1, 2021, and it was a very good job (Hesitant to say ‘great’). I would wake up, happy to go to my office in Tribeca. I worked with mostly twenty-somethings and thirty-somethings and they were a good batch. Time goes on, and people leave.

Now the workplace is overrun by millennials. Leaving little plastic bunnies and ducks in various nooks and crannies. It seems the workplace here and perhaps in other places have been retrohauled to accommodate those born in the Nineties and beyond. Don’t get me wrong, some things needed to be changed a long time ago.

I have gotten into trouble because of the childlike adults. I had a walk-in client who did not speak much English. Let’s say his name was Jose Espanol. Jose sat in my area for 90 minutes as I tried to find someone in the very quiet, nearly empty office. Jose fell asleep at one point as I searched through my mind trying to think of someone who might be bilingual.

An alumnus from my accursed high school works in this office (with one or two other alumni all late twenties/early thirties) and he was in, so I instant messaged him, telling him that Jose Espanol was here for 90 minutes. He messaged back ‘Let me guess, he speaks Spanish’. I was incredulous and wrote back ‘Really?’

I almost continued being incredulous and nearly wrote that Jose Espanol might be Latin, which would have explained the toga and the laurel wrapped around his head. I thought the alumnus was ridiculous and sending that joke about being Latin would’ve upped the ante but something held me back and there was someone who saw my situation and stepped in to help. I told the alumnus just that and thanked him anyway.

The alumnus filed a complaint about me with our inhuman resources, it’s feelings were hurt. Never mind the fact that Jose Espanol was sitting around for 90 minutes, but the alumnus was so terribly hurt by the response of ‘Really’. I asked the guy who hired me if I should send a note of apology to the bleeding alumnus and the guy who hired me said ‘if you think you should…’
So I did and it went nowhere.

I have worked in some top-shelf jobs, I have worked in the mail room, and I worked as a receptionist. I know how to interact with people mostly, but this millennial set is a whole ‘nother ball of ear wax. I get the job done and can generally make people feel at ease, so much at ease that Jose Espanol fell asleep while I searched for someone who could help him.

There will be more to come.