Its own reward

That was mainly overheard from the meeting, still debating whether or not to leave it in or leave it out.

I read a worrying post on social media from a good friend from the past, Frankie, who posted something that seemed like a suicide note. I certainly hope not, of course. Frankie’s a good dude.

Donna Summer Bad Girls is playing. The first time I heard the song, I was with Henry Venegas and his girlfriend Lisa, we were going to see the Cosmos play soccer at Giants Stadium, it must have been 79. This was before I told Henry that I wanted to blow him, and Henry was horrified and disgusted, and we never spoke again. He was a hot man with Henry always grabbing his crotch. Now he’s a middle-aged man with a wife and children, and grandchildren. I hope he’s happy.

I am feeling better today than I did the past couple of days. The weather outside fits the mood that I am in or the mood I was in. It’s gray, it’s overcast, it’s drizzly.
Oh, how I regret falling in love with Mike. What a mistake that has been, and I’m still paying the price for it emotionally

I did talk to Frankie Santangelo about the Mike relationship a few months ago. Lately, it seems that Frankie is on the ledge me and a few of his other friends are trying to figure out what the hell is going on with him. He’s a sensitive dude, I’d hate to see him suffer like that.

Like me, Frankie is a checkerboard chick. Steadfast and true, and we end up with our hearts black and blue. I left him two phone call voicemails, but nothing. I should have done it last night, but me being me, I did not. He’s a sensitive soul, that Frankie. I looked at a previous text and recommended that he call 988 should he have a problem, and then had to explain what 988 was the price is hotline that actually does help; an objective ear can fill a prescription.

So it is a damp and humid Thursday afternoon, September 25. My sister and her husband have returned from Europe, 24 hours spent traveling non-stop, so they are exhausted and they’re there 70s, so it can’t be an easy recovery, but only time will tell.

Bill was supposed to be driving some high schoolers this afternoon, and that was canceled, so he will be home when I get home, which is nice.

Sirens blare in the distance, summoning men to crash the boats on the rocks

Days like this slow the time down. I stand here talking into my phone and looking at people as they walk by. I always make eye contact. I really couldn’t say until something happens.

The torment for Mike is my own doing, and I maintain it, perhaps it’s a punishment for myself, I don’t know, so I have long escaped the clutches of the Catholic Church; the Catholic Church still has clutches in me

We’re going to have a real good time together said the Velvet Underground

So all those notes at the beginning of this that we’re overheard by my microphone from the meeting I attended will have to be deleted before I post, and then because it’s nonsense and has nothing to do with anything really outside of the office.

Some people wear masks on their faces and still don’t know how to wear them properly.
I received a text from 516-259-0766, a woman whose arms are like noodles after yoga. She claims to be looking for Emma and has mentioned once or twice that she is surprised that I do not remember her number. I called the number from a landline and got a Google voicemail.
I have broken this post into two. The first half was overheard from the meeting second half is actually me talking, dictating into the phone to be edited later when I get home.