I usually write before bed but here I am just out of bed, writing. Things are dismal right now. Work search goes on but no one wants to know. Resumes go out but no one replies. Perhaps it’s because of the end of the year.

And NYS unemployment is not coming in as of yet. I believe it’s because the law firm still has me on the payroll until November 29, so whatever I might have in money is dwindling. Not a good feeling.

I am trying to do things on the cheap but last night and splurged on 2 slices of pizza which in hindsight, I should have offered Bill one of those slices. I suppose I was hungrily greedy. Bill is on the road today and expected to return sometime later today.

I just took a look at the ZipRecruiter listings and it’s dismal. The other day I had a nice dream where Joselito Semana died. I keep having dreams about working in the law firm again and something is always off.

The most recent dream had my friend Daisy with a new hairdo, this time green. I spoke with Raoul the other day about something or another and mentioned that my emails seem to be blocked.

I gave him an example of a farewell email sent to someone who I liked helping and who sat by me. He gave me an excuse that she had an older email and to resend it that way. So I resent it that way only to find the email rejected. I took that as a sign as to let things go and just not try to contact these co-workers again.

Last night Bill and I attended a showing of the Luther Vandross documentary ‘Luther: Never Too Much’. It was at Stevens Institute of Technology’s DeBaun Auditorium and presented by Carlos Alomar, the famed guitarist who grew up with Luther and played guitar for David Bowie for about 20 years.

I’ve met Carlos a few times on the street and he’s always a nice guy, and so charming. His beautiful wife Robin Clark is also an amazing talent and the panel discussion was fun and informative with their personal tales of working with Luther.

I worked with Luther for a few weeks in 1994. He wasn’t as sociable as some artists, but then again when the label is paying $10k a day for a session, the artist is not there to make friends. I do recall Luther liked to wear a lot of gold and like pale young men, who would be called these days, twinks. To each their own.

He had a lot of talent but lived in a closet from which he saw no escape. Friends knew of his sexuality but he seemed to be afraid of alienating his female fans.

He didn’t have it like Elton John who slowly came out of the closet, first as bisexual, then married a woman that he divorced and eventually came fully out of the wardrobe and still able to sell records and be recognized as a rock & roll legend. But that sadly only applied to white pop stars not necessarily black R&B artists.

Nowadays we have Lil Nas X flaunting his wares, and Tyler the Creator announcing his bisexuality. It’s a different world today, but still, the same old battles need to be fought.

One good thing apart from all that is that it’s raining. We have not had rain since September and brush fires have been popping off here and there. I am thinking of going out later, so I will have to dust off the umbrella and tred into the flood zone where the cheaper supermarket is.

The Michael Palin exercise at work once again. I did not write last night as I had forgotten and when I remembered I was too tired and it was too late to do anything. I did have a crazy dream last night.

Joselita Semana the Queen of the Closets was in the World Trade Center Oculus cleaning and started shit once again. Ysmael Villanueva appeared in the dream as non-descript as ever.
At one time I liked Ysmael and suggested he take up modeling as he was relatively handsome despite the acne he suffered from.

He was an eager beaver to be an American citizen and probably voted for L’Orange Merde. He was one of the few social miscreants from the mailroom who would actually say ‘Hi’ when he saw me.

It was a good dream since in the dream I received word that Joselita Semana had died. No, I was not a suspect in my own dream, just very happy to hear the news. But that was then here I am now.

The interview that I had a couple of weeks ago fell by the wayside. I was so sure it was mine but alas, it was not to be. I should have lied and said ‘Yes I do know how to use a floor buffer’ but I answered truthfully. C’est la vie. I always tend to think I got the job.

I never see the other applicants lined up outside, which is because of the scheduling of interviews. Still resumes go out and this 62-year-old chap who thinks he’s 42 years old and will lie saying he’s 50 is tired.

It had been a long day. An online cigar friend, Mike works nearby on the Hoboken Jersey City border. He works in a shelter and thinks I could get a job there. But it is quite a pay cut and I don’t know if I have the meddle to handle the residents of a shelter.

Mike’s tales aren’t particularly enticing. Mike is nice, handsome, and an interesting character. Does he have stories or what? You don’t know since I’m not one to kiss and tell.

He’s living in Newark and moving to Jersey City and looks forward to having me over for cigars and chats. In-person chats since online chats are usually focused on one thing, but as I learned today, the conversation can get quite freewheeling. I look forward myself to hanging out with a new friend.

Bill would like him, I think. But that’s a whole ‘nother ball of wax. Bill comes home tomorrow after his time on the road. It was OK I guess, and there were a few hiccups. That’s Bill’s story and not mine and it’s not my place to tell tells out of school. And I don’t kiss and tell.

His schedule tomorrow is pandemonium but he thinks he can handle it and I believe that he shall. I think I will sleep well tonight but will sleep better when he is in bed with me tomorrow night.