Two days off from work, one day back and once again I cannot stand people. I can’t say I fear for the future since we’re already doomed. Luckily there is plenty of blame to go around, more than enough so I don’t have to write about it here. I don’t have to write about people that are so involved with whatever mechanisms are in their hand they don’t know how to respond to an ‘excuse me’ as you try to pass them on an escalator.

It was certainly a strange day today. Temperatures in the 80° range and it’s not even the unofficial start of summer yet. I was early enough to see Thomas walk right past me, all slick in a dark suit and wearing killer shades.

I walked into the cigar shack just a minute after he did. He asked if he could close tonight, which eventually means I will close tomorrow. No big deal. Six in one, a half dozen in the other if you ask me. Alvin was flitting about, seemingly stressed. He made a remark about how I had such a nice day off yesterday and he sounded resentful.

Some big wigs were expected to be in the shack today. One showed up about 30 minutes after I got in, a nice guy who made a bee line to Calvin. He also blessed Thomas and myself with some free cigars so that was nice. The afternoon progressed as expected, a few customers coming in and out.

Since today was Miles Davis birthday, Calvin insisted on playing nothing but Miles Davis today. Ho hum. The afternoon crawled quite a bit thanks to the jazz. Calvin had an appointment so that meant he was going to have to leave early, like around 4:00.

At about 3:55, more big wigs arrived, about 5 of them altogether, examining the computers. Not that they were in a hurry to replace the Soviet garage sale computers the cigar shack uses, from what someone told me, they were probably making sure that Marcus doesn’t steal files or customers from the cigar shack, moving them to a cigar hut a few blocks south.

The someone who told me, mentioned that Marcus probably did that already, a little each day. Whether or not that is true, I couldn’t tell you. The truth is Marcus will be gone from the cigar shack, come June 1. And Calvin is stepping up to the plate, already taking somethings over, and a little bit anxious and nervous as well. He’ll be fine I’m sure, some bad habits seem to have ended or at least put to the side by just about all concerned.

I heard from my cousin who said they’ll be in touch with me next week and I heard from Joe Monaco, a recruiter I met with about 2 years ago. I used to send Joe Monaco emails every Monday, letting him know I was still looking. Eventually that fell by the wayside and here he was calling me to tell me about a position that maybe just right for me. And it may be local too.

I don’t have any expectations with regards to Joe Monaco. Despite my excellent scoring on the tests back then, he has not done a thing for me. OK, offering me a job in Livingston NJ was something he did, but really, how the hell am I supposed to get out to Livingston?

In any event, I am home now, and quite happy to be here. Bill is here too, telling me he loves me and that I am wonderful. It is nice to hear, sometimes hard to believe, the latter, not the former.

It’s one of those Mondays, rainy but not really. More drizzly, sideways winds blowing spray to & fro. Perfect weather for the chronically malcontent as well as the regular (& irregular) snippy people.

Of course I leave out the most important piece of the equation, the shallow and lazy people, also known as the weepies. I would include them but I wiped my feet on the doormat.

It’s been another interesting day today. Thomas and Calvin and myself, getting along famously. It wasn’t an easy start for me today though. The rain certainly lent itself to wanting to stay in bed and sleep as much as possible. Of course that didn’t happen.

I got out of bed, Bill sleeping in having a day off since he’s been on the ill side of things the past few days. He drove to Atlantic City on Friday and wasn’t feeling 100%. Thankfully he made it there and back safely.

He came home on Saturday and went right to bed as I headed off to work. He was awake when I came home but not for long. I stayed up and watched Saturday Night Live turning in before the end.

Yesterday was basically a blasé day, went out in the morning and out again in the afternoon to return Punk: Attitude to Netflix. Turned out I had seen it before. Still good, sad to see young Ari Up and remember she passed away not too long ago. Same with Poly Styrene.

My timing turned out to be good. I sat by the river for a few minutes and then headed home since I was bored and a bit depressed. 5 minutes after I walked through the door the skies opened up and it poured quite a bit.

Bill had made it out, headed into the city for an acting interview class. He also learned a song, Family, from Dreamgirls. Once again, I initially thought it was corny but by the time he finished it I was quite moved.

I felt he was singing it for me. I was in such a state that I really couldn’t hear it any other way. It really hit me. It was similar to years ago when Bill & I first started going out and I surprised him at his church one Sunday afternoon.

He was playing their baby grand and singing a song that I thought was just too corny. I Believe in You & Me by the Four Tops. I knew the Tops version and I knew Whitty Hutton’s version but hearing Bill sing it and play it on the piano was amazing and had me sobbing by the end.

I didn’t sob last night but I did get a lump in my throat.

So much for being chronically malcontent. I would probably be more of a malcontent, lurking underneath bridges probably in or around Central New Jersey with 174.252.7.87 being my IP Address. But since it is not I am not.

I’m quite content. I have friends and family and a very good man that loves me. I guess that some people don’t have that. I count my blessings from time to time. Not often enough but I know that they’re there.

Ol’ whatshername is now having it’s comments go directly in the spam folder. Not worth my trouble and not worth ruining your eyesight with its rants. I have a life and you can read about a portion or a slice of it on this here blog.

Surprisingly, some haters can read too, their comments are sometimes monitored, sometimes sent to spam. That’s the way the teat leaks I suppose.

My boo, not looking ill, but he was.