Feeling good

A new day. Last night’s post got a little hairy after I posted Bill felt I was not seeing his side of the story which involved throwing down in the middle of Ninth Avenue. I explained that I think Bill did the right thing by walking away from a potential confrontation but that made him furious.

Furious enough to slap his hand on the table and then grab his keys and storm out of the apartment. He does have a nasty temper which pops up every couple of years or so. I figured I would track him but he left his phone behind leaving me to think ‘The calls are coming from inside the house!’

He came back a little while later much calmer and able to reason. I explained I would always have his back and that having his back meant telling him something that he did not want to hear. I reminded him that he was 60 years old now and having a street fight with someone likely half his age would not achieve much.

He tried to explain what his father would have done if it happened to him, and I said if that happened to him in the 1970s it would be a different world and a different outcome would probably occur. Nowadays you don’t know if the other guy has a knife or a gun or a box cutter. Box cutters seem to be used frequently in crimes in the city.

It was good talking him off the ledge and today he’s back to his good old self. We both slept well last night. I slept so well that I thought it was Saturday morning. Of course, it wasn’t.

I had a dream about work, Schlomo the DKB situating me in a new desk next to someone I knew and got along with though I don’t think she really exists. She was fun though. I explained to Schlomo the DKB that this would probably be a bad idea since I would be so fixated on the company of this fun co-worker instead of my work which I pointed to, about 20 feet from where this dream conversation was happening.

Then I went to another dream which I don’t remember. I can almost hear your sigh of relief, ‘Oh no not another dream story John!’.

The commute to work was easy, not many people on a Friday since a lot of people seem to work from home. Monday has a few more people but is not as crowded as Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday.

The office was not crowded either. I was playing music through the Bluetooth speaker all day. Nothing too raucous, the music was on the quiet side. No one noticed since no one was really there.

The afternoon break went well, not too chilly or windy. A good cigar was enjoyed. After that the rest of the day was quiet, with me looking for the smallest task to do. If I got a request at 4:05, the request was filled by 4:07.

I can almost hear Schlomo the DKB complaining about the fact that I am taking too long.

Feels so good

On today’s menu was a Shit Sandwich. Kitchen prep was last night, Bill had a near incident last night and nothing came of it except for the other guy saying something as Bill walked off. Bill was having a bad day and it wasn’t over yet.

His commute home had him standing on a crowded bus which aggravated his bad back so he was quite miserable. His back and his bruised ego made for a difficult evening. He kept the bruised ego overnight in the oven and this morning his misery was nearly fully cooked. An abrupt goodbye with neither one of us giving much love to the other and then the slamming of the door was how my leaving for the job ended.

Work was the same as it ever was. I’ve come to the realization the Legume really has absolutely nothing to say to me anymore besides Good Morning. No more ‘good night’ from him. I did hold him in high regard for a few years but after the July 8 meeting, he’s fallen from the lofty perch I placed him at.

Mainly because S/S’s kid was the one who told a lopsided story of what happened. Maybe S/S knows it was lopsided and feels bad about it but he can’t say anything about it since his offspring might get in trouble. Or maybe S/S feels bad about the situation I am in and there’s nothing he could do about it. Maybe.

So I have 2 strikes against me, one courtesy of an alumni from my alma mater and the other from S/S’s kid. There is stress due to a self-evaluation questionnaire that is expected by the end of next week. I of course have a lot to say.

Last year it was the same thing and it did not go well. This year I have a list of explanations for why I feel my performance is the way it is. I’ve written it out.

It was a cold and windy break this afternoon. Who are these people who say they can’t wait for this time of year? It’s too cold to do much of anything outside so most time is spent indoors. I think they prefer to watch the season through windows.

I crashed somewhat this afternoon as I finished a cigar outside. Just the weight of everything felt so heavy upon my shoulders. I was despondent. A problem that I had a few weeks ago had come back despite doing all I could do to make things right.

I was able to make arrangements which will be taken care of soon enough at the sacrifice of my Saturday bicycle ride. That was set up when I came home.

Bill is awfully quiet, one could say mute. With the two of us in our states of discontent it is an uncomfortable situation. I did mention how I felt this afternoon, how I wished I was dead. I did wish that. I am just so tired of this grind.

I try to do good and I find myself in situations that I had a big hand in creating and are almost out of control. Of course, I don’t want to die, just a momentary passing thought.

I have to wonder though when I said that there was no reaction from Bill. Is he that far gone in what happened yesterday? Do I say this wish out loud too often? I am overwhelmed. This was the other end of the shit sandwich.

There was a nice thing that happened today that seemed to restore my faith in humanity. As I was leaving work and crossing the street, a man and a woman asked me for directions to the 9/11 museum. Of course, I know where that is, it is right next to the Path train. I told them to follow me as I was headed in that direction.

As we walked they told me they were actually headed for the ferry. I told them I definitely knew where that was since I do take the ferry if the Path train was out of service. It turned out they were parked in the RV parking lot in Jersey City, a parking lot I ride alongside as I am cycling back home from Liberty State Park.

I found out they were from California and drove across the country in a van. I explained that I had done the same thing in 1981 and how I was almost thrown out in Nebraska since my cassette tape jammed in the tape player. They laughed when I mentioned cassettes.

We got to Vesey Street and I put them in the right direction, saying that if they hit the water they’ve gone too far. The woman told me she appreciated me and that everyone they met in Manhattan was just so nice and helpful, and then she gave me a hug.

I was wishing them safe travels when the man insisted on a hug for himself. I told them they were the best thing that happened to me today.

And Chuck Mangione was an earworm this afternoon.