I go downstairs to find Sugar Plum.
She is not there, but another social worker is. I ask her about the cable situation in the rooms, and she gives me five minutes of mumbo jumbo. The long and short of it is that she doesn't know and will have to get back to me. That's cool. I go upstairs, clean my room, take a nap, and come back down. Sugar Plum is there in her office. She has things that she has to do, can I come back at Seven O'clock. Sure, no problem. I go upstairs, make and eat dinner, clean my fucking room, come back down by Seven. She is in another office with another client. "Can you come back at Seven Thirty??" Sure thing. I'm back upstairs, blogging this time. Too engrossed in my writing to really care.
I head back downstairs at seven thirty and Sugar Plum is there in her office. She tells me that it's time for the old intake. If you've never been through intake before, it's simply a process that when you go to an institution or a community, there are things that they have to iron out between you and them, concerning your meds, your needs, their/your limitations. All kinds of shit. It's a process, and I go through it with her. It takes about an hour and in the end I STILL HAVE TO PRODUCE THAT BIRTH CERTIFICATE!! There's something creepy about that. Did I just miss the train, or did the train just miss me?
I sit in my room after dark, sitting in front of my computer, my senses on alert. I need a hit of LYRICA. But I've already taken one. I'm working rapidly on blogging and the handbook, and I am still feeling that creeping feeling down my back, as if someone is standing behind me, watching me with a cold, hard menace. Chills run up and down my spine. I'm getting, what they call: "The willies". I know you've felt this too, something or someone over your shoulder that if you turned around and saw what it was, your blood would run cold.
Have you ever thought of what it would be standing behind you that would cause you to shit yourself if it/he was behind you? What? Michael Meyers in Holloween, or Jason Voorhees from Friday the 13th. Or some other thing or person that would scare the living shit out of you if you turned around and saw them there.
I fear midgets.
Don't laugh, but it's true. Not the Chucky type of scarred, demonized doll midgets. Just fucking short people. One short guy, like that guy from Fantasy Island. Or an Oompa Loompah, or just a short guy standing behind me. I know my heart would burst in my chest. It doesn't' have to be an army or a single knife wielding short guy, just a short guy.
Well, let me stop talking about it or I won't sleep tonight. I'll be afraid of some midget waking me up in the middle of the night while I was asleep. Now that would fuck me up. If a midget woke me up with a glass of warm milk for me to drink. Wow. I think I would die of a heart attack.
Enough of that shit. Moving on. I take my frightened ass to bed after drinking a glass of warm milk.
I love milk.
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/12/go-and-save-world.html
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