Monday afternoon, October 27th. In my Google Drive are notes from my supervisor, Yancey, and notes from my counselor in Seattle. I saved them both there for some reason; I do not know why.

It was a strange weekend overall, melancholy on the border of depression didn’t cross over the border, though, so that was a good thing.

I did go out for a bit yesterday and was intending to see a photo exhibition. I got there at 10 minutes too early before it opened and was much to impatient to sit around and wait since I was by myself, so I wandered around, ran some errands, and wound up back home not doing anything.

The recording of my dictation leaves a lot to be desired, and how it interprets what I say, unless I correct it immediately, hours from now, I will have no idea what it was I was trying to say.

Bill is on the road for the next couple of days. Mike might come over tonight, well, until he actually shows up it could be fun, it could be a nightmare, he’s a Gemini, so one never knows what one’s going to get.

And like I wrote the other day, I was surprised to find out that I still loved him, and seeing the pictures of him and his beloved was an awakening that I thought was sleeping somewhat dormant.

I have a good job, a job at lots of other people would love to have, and I have it. They tell me I’m doing a good job, and all I can do is believe them. I try not to question their beliefs because it doesn’t make me look good at all while they are making me look good.

It makes getting up in the morning not much easier since it’s not a high-pressure job; in fact, the only pressure I have is what I put upon myself.

Marcus had just walked by my desk a few minutes before, and a good mood, even though he said he was not in a good mood; he was smiling and asking me what I had done to myself, did I get a haircut, did I trim my beard, did I get Botox. No to all of his questions, I didn’t do anything I did trim my mustache a little bit last night, but he’s not going to notice that.

Of course, the first thing that happens when I wake up is my desire to continue to sleep, but today the desire was to call in sick, which is not going to happen.

I did find out that the fruit stand is closed Thanksgiving week, and I also found out that I am off Thursday and Friday of that week and will probably have to come in Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and do whatever assignments the fruit stand might have for me.

I have no problem really with that, Jimmy Chile should be in, so if I can spend time with him all the better. .

Rachel Dolezal just popped into my head after I saw a woman who sort of resembled her.
I still do not like the autumn.

Time is moving slowly.

It’s Saturday, October 25. Everything is a disappointment for me today. And I really do not like humanity. Most everyone except for some family & friends. My tolerance is quite low. I am finally going to take a social media break. It’s too much. It leaves me feeling ill, not in a good mind space.

And I have found things about me that are not to my liking. I thought a torch was extinguished, but I found it was still burning. There’s no point in being coy about it since I’m the only one who seems to read these posts. I may have mentioned before how I fell for Mike. Not taking away any love from Bill, I had a good amount of love to share with Mike as well. And Mike claimed he felt the same. Then in August, he revealed that he did not feel that way after all.

He found someone new, his beloved, someone 3000 miles away. And after all their clumsy attempts to connect, they have finally connected. I helped make it happen, as did Bill. Like I said, I thought the torch was extinguished, but seeing photos of the 2 of them online, I am gutted once again.

Bill more than likely has a clue, but he’s going through his own drama with work, and he is doing his best to deal with that. Needless to say, the atmosphere in the apartment was filled with bad feelings, not towards each other, but for those outside the apartment.

I’ve had my phone on do not disturb so that cuts out any intrusions that might be forthcoming from Jersey City and beyond. I just received at least a half dozen photos of Mike and his beloved in Jersey City (no longer Chilltown), and that bothered me. So much for thinking I had moved beyond it.

I plan on not saying anything about it, just letting it die like a neglected house plant. I almost posted my social media break on the social medias earlier, but decided to wait. That was around 11 AM. Now I am looking to 6 PM. I told Bill this, and he was supportive, saying, ‘do what you gotta do’.

I can’t say how long the break will be for. It could be hours, it could be days, it could be weeks, or even months. I guess I will see how I feel as time goes on. The thought of it makes me feel good. Earlier this year I did check in with Harpy, who was more cantankerous than ever, and he explained his absence from the social media platforms was due to too many narcissists. I thought he preferred to be the only narcissist.

In a way, I am following Harpy’s lead, as well as Hank Russert, someone I never met. I sent a message to him a few weeks ago, and he said he was OK. Good enough for me. There are others whom I did the same for, asking how they were doing but received no reply, which led me to believe they were no longer alive. Health matters and age do come into play with some, and I think of Thomas Gale Knoch when I wrote that.

Thomas was someone I enjoyed interacting with. But not in a while, perhaps over a year. But I will be making an announcement so as not to let family & friends worry. Perhaps that’s narcissistic.

With regards to Mike, I fell in lust with the character he portrayed online, some thuggish ruggish bone smoking a cigar. When he was sitting on my couch he was not like that at all. It was the bait on the hook that took me in. I fell in love with this sensitive guy, who got me out of a solosexual life that I had been living in for about 15 years of my own accord.

And now I am heading back into that. Perhaps not so much of being in my own accord, but instead, of saving myself from any more hurt. He did make a financial promise to repay what I had done for him for the past 11 months. I did not ask for it; he said he wanted to do it. If, in fact, he does it, I will be grateful for his gratitude. But anything is possible, and I, of course, could use the money.