I watched Hardly Strictly Blue Grass over the weekend. It’s a large fun free music event in San Francisco, different bands come in and play on various stages for an audience. I saw Patti Smith playing on Sunday afternoon. She was good of course.

Before that, I saw Mike Mills from REM and Chris Stamey from the dB’s play a tribute to Big Star which was OK. Then Yo La Tengo played at another stage in the park. I don’t think I have ever seen Yo La Tengo play a full set and this time was no different.

I love the dB’s records but live I find them boring. And the last time I saw REM was probably 40 years ago. The funny thing is that REM, the dB’s, and Yo La Tengo all played Maxwell’s several times, Yo La Tengo’s Ira Kaplan actually worked there.

I should know he worked the soundboard as I stood no more than 2 feet away from him as I DJ’d on Saturday nights. Or was it Friday nights? So many memory holes, from so much abuse. Ira and Georgia were and probably still are nice people.

I last saw them at my brother’s wake where I hugged Ira who seemed a bit put off by the hug. Once again ‘we’re not THOSE types of friends’ came into being.

Last night I was all set for a good night of sleep. And after about a half hour of slipping into sleep, an alert went off on my phone jolting me awake and leaving me unable to descend to the depths that I achieved mere minutes before.

Tossing and turning and frustrated for the next 7 hours or so. I woke up disappointed but not sad which was good. I shuffled through the apartment and was out to the Path train. No co-workers this morning but it was still a bit crowded.

My afternoon break came and I was once again on Thomas Street enjoying a cigar. I saw a guy on the street who was on the same spectrum as a co-worker whom I call Sméagol. And I was right, he asked where Chambers Street was and I told him and then he told me how he had been lost for 45 minutes.

People gave him the wrong directions and I guess he found me. I watched him head off to Broadway where I told him to make a right and go a few blocks and hoped this ersatz Sméagol knew his right from his left. It seemed that he did.

In the office when I came back there was an Oktoberfest on another floor. Beer and pretzels were offered and a few co-workers were kind enough to ask if I was going and since I really couldn’t they offered to bring something back for me.

I’m not a day drinker so I politely declined. Plus, drinking at work would probably not be a very good idea for me. Still, it was nice to have been asked.

I woke up sad. I’m sad about having to go to the office again. I really didn’t want to but I’m a slave to the dollar. I generally try to get out of bed before the alarms go off but this time the alarm caught me. It’s been a while since that happened and for a second I wondered how to stop the alarm. Then reality came to me and the alarm was silent.

Last week in the bagel shop I was thisclose to Shaun Moray who I went to high school with. I wrote about him a few weeks ago with another variation on his name as I don’t want him to do a search for his actual name and come across this here blog. We made eye contact and there was a hint of recognition on his face but by that time I was out the door beating a hasty exit.

This morning I saw him on a bike heading north. Then on the Path train as I sit and read Mojo with Bob Dylan on the cover I see Hugh Batista a co-worker who went to the same high school as me and Shaun Moray.

Being in the sad state of mind I was in, I had no desire to communicate with him in any way, so I basically buried my face in Bob Dylan’s Mojo. I do like Hugh Batista enough to change his name should HE decide to do a name check on himself and wind up alongside Shaun Moray reading this here blog.

I knew Hugh would be going with the crowd to the exits that everyone goes through. Me, being me, went the other way once again, adding a couple of minutes to my commute just to avoid people. And once I got to the office everything was just as I dreaded.

I was done with the majority of my tasks within the first 90 minutes, then Schlomo the DKB started sending me direct messages about 3 or 4 items that I mislabeled and sent out. There was no excuse on my part and I did say I was sorry and then went out of my way to apologize, all via texts.

This was when I was certain I was going to be let go. Some days I can deal with the sword of Damocles over my head but this was not one of those days. It all weighed heavily upon me.

Then I found out a relative of mine was having surgery which was a shock. I had no idea there was a problem but these relatives play their cards close to the vest not giving me any hint of something being amiss. I get the news from 3000 miles away.

From what I understand almost 12 hours later the surgery was a success. Not sure if I should say anything to the patient since it seems I wasn’t supposed to know in the first place. And with the depression going on right now in my life, perhaps it’s best if I maintain that distance.