Monday, October 26. Back at work. Yesterday I had hoped to go for a bike ride but it was a little too nippy. Plus I had promised to go to the Newport mall with Mike. We’d been planning on going for a few weeks and it was important to Mike that we go. He’s been at his crib for over a. Year and his parole officer commented that it looked like a trap house.

that seemed to be enough for Mike to do something about. Bill came home on Saturday. It was only a stop of a few hour, he was out of the apartment at 3:30 am headed to Pennsylvania. I slept until a little bit after 9 am and puttered about. Bill set up the coffee maker on Saturday before he left so life was somewhat easier.

I was thinking about doing a bike ride but it wasn’t as warm as I would have hoped and Mike was coming over sooner rather then later. Mike showed up and after a short while, we started towards the mall. It was a beautiful day as we walked through the train station and onto the waterfront in Jersey City. Mike enjoys these walks and talks and I do too.

Mike really wants to buy me something, clothes, appliances, but I hesitate since I have enough clothes and can’t think of any appliances we might need. It frustrates Mike and he resolves to get me something at some point.

Bill is heading back home and has nothing scheduled for the rest of the week, but that could change. He was funny and annoying on Saturday. He wanted to go to the supermarket with me on Saturday but he had just gotten home and needed to rest. The supermarket was fine, I was in and out in no time.

While shopping, I almost walked down the bread aisle and figured that I had half a loaf left so no need. I was going to buy Bill things that he liked but was uncertain. I knew Bill liked bread though. Enough bread that when I came home there was maybe a quarter loaf left.

That was the annoying part. I almost bought more bread but figured that I had
enough left. Now I didn’t and would need to go back to the supermarket. It wasn’t so bad, it was more of a hassle. It was a nice day. There was an idea for Mike to come over on Saturday but it didn’t seem like that good of an idea at that point.

Things were back to normal with Bill and we enjoyed each other’s company until it was time for him to go to sleep, needing to be up and on the road by 3:30 am. And that brings it all back to the beginning. And the beginning was yesterday, today is not that.

Today has been a good enough, quiet day. I hope that it stays that way. Wednesday all day in the belly of the fruit stand and Friday morning a meeting there in that same belly.

Another beautiful day in Manhattan. Penultimate Friday for October. Some higher up’s are meandering through the office which hampers my style and my plans. Nevertheless I will persevere. So quiet in the fruit stand today. Trying to look busy takes a lot of effort.

Listening to The Story of Jamaican Music. I bought the box set for Julio in 1993. He was with me at Tower Records on Fourth Street in the basement where they sold reggae music. There were only a few copies available and Julio nabbed one and I was about to nab one when Richard Gere got it instead, telling someone on the phone that he was getting it for Cindy, his then wife, Cindy Crawford.

I silently cursed Richard Gere and it was only another week that I was able to get a box set for Julio for Christmas which was when he gave me my copy of the same thing. It was an easier time,things were simpler. Now I live with Bill for the past 24 years and Julio has been living a few blocks away for about 18 years.

Yesterday I brought a can of THC seltzer. I decided to drink it at work to see the effects I might feel out of my usual environment at home. I had a can the other night and I couldn’t tell. I had a can around 3:00 pm and an hour later I was just full of love and supportiveness. It was sincere though I didn’t think anyone would notice. And though the train was crowded I had a zen like contentedness that got me through the 10 minute train from 14th to Hoboken.

I’m not going to do that every day. It made me quite chatty though not overwhelmingly like it used to be when I was making brownies. Those were the days, the days when weed was abundant, when Jesse was still in the states. I don’t know the real story of his departure, or even if he did leave to go back to Guyana. Did he self-deport? Did he see the writing on the wall?

Jesse left, the sweet woman, Arti, at the supermarket went back to India. I admit my feelings are selfish. I liked these people and didn’t want them to go but they have their own lives.

Lunch was pleasant. I had hoped to take a walk and go to a magazine shop in the Village but there were too many underlings running around and didn’t want to draw attention to myself in case I was running late. I would’ve picked up an issue of Mojo that hasn’t been delivered (yet) and a copy of Uncut which seemed appealing.

I could do that next week or when I’m working in the belly once again, which according to the calendar is next Wednesday. There is a magazine shop on 37th street across from where Skyline Studios used to be.

Mike is planning on coming over tonight and Bill may make an appearance at some point this weekend. He mentioned something about it but I’ve told him that I do prefer to read his itinerary.
Mike is not coming over since a furniture delivery has been scheduled for some point tomorrow. Bill is ensconced at a hotel near the Willowbrook Mall which was exotic to me once upon a time…

Bill is scheduled for a Hoboken appearance tomorrow.