Back in the office. I admit that I messed up on a couple of things the past few days. In the back of my mind, the evil Jiminy Cricket whispers that I am about to be fired. Signs indicate some things. Marcus was going to have me train on ordering supplies tomorrow when I am at the big fruit stand, but now that is not going to happen. And Jiminy Cricket whispers ‘ why would they train someone who’s about to be let go?’
There is no proof beyond my paranoia. Bill is on the road today, and Mike is coming over to fill the void. One of the main drones from the big fruit stand is in the office. I didn’t know of his visit and merely asked,’ What are you doing here?’ an innocuous and harmless question which could be used against me.
Last night Bill and I watched Harold and Maude. I had seen it before, Bill had not. He enjoyed the macabre humor and did not know that Bud Cort was, and didn’t know that he died last week. It’s still a touching movie, and I was glad to show it to Bill.
At work, Jiminy Cricket is whispering in my ear. I am trying to appease the company that placed me at the fruit stand. I could definitely use a nap. Jimmy Chile helped me out a bit with a response to email my supervisor with. Taking what they sent me, rewording it, and sending it back. Jimmy Chile has a better grip on things than I do.
I am off to pick up my lunch from Wendy’s. Not the healthiest, but it serves a purpose. I had chicken nuggets, medium fries, and a chocolate frosty some of which wound up on my shirt. I know chicken nuggets are not real, but they did the job, and I will probably have a hamburger tomorrow as well as Saturday.
Still wrestling with the staffing agency and their need to read my goals. I can only think of one goal, and that is to wake up, go to work, and come home with no harm to myself or others. But that would not satisfy them. Too honest and too simple, and though it is work-related I don’t think they would see it that way
In 1995, a man and a woman whom I am friends with got married. They were a lovely couple, and they still are. I foolishly asked if they were going to have children, asking because I thought that they would be awesome parents. It was not received that way, and I ruffled the male of the species’ feathers. In hindsigh,t it was none of my business but I meant no offense.
I still think of them as friends, though time has passed and my mouth may have caused bruising in the relationship. Nothing malicious as far as I know, but malice is sometimes in the ear of the beholder. Perhaps it is merely another case of my sometimes default setting of vapidity.
Listening to Lazy Line Painter Jane by Belle and Sebastian, gifted by my greatly missed friend Juan, who is out there enjoying the universe since he was much too good to remain on the wheel of reincarnation.
Listening to songs from his mixtape playlists makes me miss him so much. He was a good friend, and I thought he would live forever. He should have. I wish I paid more attention.
I can’t play any more songs, they’re making me sad.
Jesse Jackson has passed away. I attended one of his rallies. It may have been autumn 1987; I videotaped it, I think. Just don’t ask me where the tape is. I recall it may have been on West 58th Street by the Plaza, but you know how fanciful my memory can be.
