Yesterday was not a bad day. It was quiet. Everything has been nice at the fruit stand. Not much was going on and that was fine. No complaints, as far as I know. None from me at least. I can’t say there were any about me, but I wouldn’t know.

Bill and I did our thing last night, just watching TV, being boring which we like. I slept OK last night, though the night before I had the dehydration headache. But not last night. A trip to the bathroom was expected and accomplished.

When I woke up with the alarm clock, I decided I needed a day off. A mental health day. When I dad dinner with the counselor who placed me at the fruit stand along with other fruit stand employees, the counselor mentioned that we have a PTO which stands for Personal Time Off.

And so I took a PTO. When I attempted to do so in the past, I was usually hit by a wave of guilt, so much so that I would actually go to the office later in the day. Granted I would say I wasn’t feeling well, and had gotten better.

But today was not that. No guilt. More rain was expected today and I did not want to deal with that, not after getting a thorough soaking on Saturday afternoon. Bill had his errands to run as I fixed up some coffee for myself.

So much bad news, a steady current of bad news and it does take some effort to avoid it. I admit there is a social media addiction which causes the stress levels to rise and allows some depression to creep through.

I was able to not look at those things, most concerned L’Orange Merde and that piece of shit is everywhere.

While Bill was on his way out, I made my own way for my errands. A stop at the cigar store where I saw Imram who was having his lunch. The cigar shop is not doing so well and he’s taken to being a delivery man for people’s food orders after his shift at the cigar shop. He has that immigrant work ethic and I have the spoiled work ethic of needing a mental health day.

The rain was approaching, pushing forward a front of humidity. No breezes, just thick, warm air.

I walked to the supermarket again, this time a lot drier than Saturday. The supermarket was easy enough, I bought things I forgot on Saturday as well as things that I noticed that I needed since then. The walk home was easy going.

I walked through the streets where the St. Ann’s Feast were setting up for the upcoming events. Mike really wants to go and wants Bill to join us, so that is what is planned for the weekend, probably Saturday night.

Tomorrow I will be stationed at the main fruit stand. There is the usual apprehension but I think I have a good grip on it. It’s mainly from working alone at the fruit stand I am usually at, dealing with a handful of people to dealing with maybe a hundred people at the main fruit stand.

And in the back of my mind, there is what Jimmy Chile calls the evil Jiminy Cricket telling me that I am not up to snuff and that I am going to be let go. Evil Jiminy Cricket pops up every now and then, saying variations of the same thing, but I am still there though for today, I am here.

And of course, it’s raining again.