Wash Away My Sorrows

I'm up alright.

I do my exercise. Take my meds. Make a bowl of cereal. Blog.
That's my plan for everyday, except I'm going to try to cut out number three. It's unnecessary. I almost caved in last night and bought another box with my detergent. That would not have been good. I still have two boxes left, and enough milk to cover them. That's more than enough...that's a little too much.

My plan for today? Laundry. Yep, the good old laundry, and to get more acquainted with my new neigh- borhood. I was told that there is a library three blocks away from my home. It might prove to be a welcome addition to the Starbucks connection.

I goof off, because i don't know when the laundromat opens. I just don't want to get there too early and have to stand out in the cold. That would be bad. I fucked around on the laptop until late and headed downstairs and out. The days are getting colder and windy, and I'm still dressing in my light jacket. But I actually believe that if you dress up too warmly too early the winter will feel too cold all winter long. Who needs that? I hustle over to the laundromat and find the fucker packed full of people doing their laundry. The bad thing was that they had an incredible number of washers and dryers. I mean, I've been to laundromats before, but I've never seen one as large as this one, and to add insult to injury, all of the washers and dryers were being used. Yes, that's right. I was so late getting there that the maddening crowds got there and DID THEIR LAUNDRY before I ever even showed up. What fucking time did this place open?

It would be so cool if it was open 24hrs. I could come here whenever I wake up at 4:00am. Tres cool.

I stand and wait until two medium load washers and dryers open up, and while I'm loading them a Skek walks in. He looks like a tall, wrinkled, prune-like matchstick, dressed in clothes out of a sixties barrel. The problem is is that this motherfucker is frantic and babbling to himself. He is definitely off his fucking meds. I start up my two washers as he empties one two machines down from mine. He is all over the place, his brain short circuiting, his long arms flapping like he was trying to take flight. An electric chair victim turned loose.

I back away from him and start reading my book. I'm not too interested in what he has to say, even if I could understand him. Word salads seem to pour out of his mouth. He is insane. AND HE'S DOING HIS LAUNDRY!!

That's what's so crazy about this entire situation. I look around at the rest of the New Yorkers in the Laundromat that are within sight of this maniac and no one is paying attention. He could have had dynamite strapped around his body and no one would be the wiser. I had no clue that Skeks did their laundry or even had the capacity, but here was one, right in front of me, defying convention.

Time travels and I soon get finished with the wash, and then toss everything into a dryer when one empties. I leave the laundromat because I can't take the Skek anymore. His ceaseless movements are tiring me out. I return home and clean. I also take clothes out of my luggage. I'm finally moving into my apartment. Laundry means only one thing, perma- nence. I go back to the laundromat to get my clothes, and walk around the wacked out Skek who is now standing outside of the laundromat, smoking a cigarette and shouting at the passerby. That shit was a first for me.

Shortly, after I fold and put away all that shit, I head back downstairs and over to Daddy Day Care. I'm surprised at my luck. I have been avoiding Igor without even trying. I guess New York is too large to find someone in. He certainly is having one Helluvah time locating me. I crash my ass in Daddy Day Care and stay there all afternoon long, eschewing my anxiety session again. I'll have to make it a point to go next week. Although I had made it a point to go this week. I just didn't want to commute back downtown today. I wanted a day off from the rigamarole.

Over the email, I learn that my brother and I have been canceled from reading before the students at the Borough of Manhattan Community College due to tests. That was alright. I'm not too cool about reading my poetry in front of college students, although Charles Bukowski did it often. I get way too nervous. Maybe the LYRICA in my bloodstream will counteract that. Maybe. Then I won't shit myself.

The reading at the Fusion Museum is full on. That's another tight spot for me. We're planned to do some poetry at an art show, and I have to pick out and read just one of my favorites. Shit, I can't make that call. My poems are so short now. I cut them down to their bare minimums. I strip them of sinew and skin. They are bare bones dancing before the eyes. White, stark puppets on a string. Read one, before complete strangers?? I have to shake my head how my brother gets us into these things.

My article in the online magazine came out and it's getting good reviews from the poetry circuit. One writes: "fucking fabulous is what it is. whoo! whoo!" another writes: "Lord Lumiel: this is wonderful." The Lord Lumiel part is a long story about email addresses. But it's all good. I hope to make this a good series of articles. As long as I don't fuck them up or the series.

Then, I surf past Time Warner Cable. Then I surf past it again. Instead I stop at Optimum Online, and did a search of their service area. They state that they do not have cable service in my area. I take that as a sign and surf more, finding other sites until I stop at Time Warner Cable, my curiosity getting the better of me. I did a search once again as to if they supplied service in my area, and they did...did I want them to supply service to my room? It was just that simple, click a button and they would bring in an online cable connection right to me. Free installation. $29.99 a month. Could I swing that? It would put me on a pretty severe diet. I need money to get metrocards to move up and downtown.

It will restrict my movements, but shit, I'd be online so much I would be moving much...but I could do it. And it wasn't that I didn't need it. Or wouldn't use it. There will be no doubt if I will be on it at all. I will, day and night. I'll use Time Warner more than they will use me, that's for certain. I click the fucking button. Just that easy. The web page returns with faces of happy/smiley people. I just got free installation!! Everything is free until we get to the technical stuff, and I'm Bob Villa of the technical stuff.

Fuck the ripoff Motorola router that Time Warner is offering. I surf up a very good-for-the-price wireless router, with CAT 5 ports just in case I want a hard wire to the Internet. You know how demanding 2142 can be on a WIFI connection. Oh...you don't? Well, it can be, trust me.

I'm shortly through writing email and surfing computer gear and get up to go through the scores of children running about. I feel like Gulliver making my way out and stop at the 99cent store on my way home. I do this because I need a few coat hangers for my closet. I'm laying my coats on the floor for lack of hangers. Now just a minute about this fucking store. It's so narrow that it only has two aisles, each with barely enough room for two people to walk through side by side. Remind you of anywhere else closeby?

The other thing is that is a completely vertical store. The ceilings are so high, a person standing on another person's shoulder still could not reach it. Running up the wall, further than you can reach, is the fucking merchan- dise, hanging off hooks. I had walked past the coat hangers in the store because they were a good nine feet over my head! Damnest thing I've ever seen in my life. I mean, I've seen stores with a wall with half the height as this one did. I look around, and in strategic places they have long poles with a mandible on the end. By squeezing levers on the pole at four foot intervals you can manipulate the mandible. I pulled off the incredible reach with the pole and brought down four hangers. I was never so proud of myself. I smacked my own ass with pride.

I got home, navigating around the Loits to more food. Macaroni and Cheese, beef burritos, vitamin water, and ginger snaps cookies. Yum. At least I ain't starving. Another thing, I still owe my rent money to this place. I keep seeing the man that Im suppose to approach with my check but he always looks too busy to bother with me. How am I supposed to handle this if that's the case?

Sugar Plum comes up to me in the long corridor. "I'm in tomorrow from one to nine. I need you to come to my office and see me so that we can get started on your charts." No problem. I intend to be home at about seven or eight anyway. The only question that I have is, what charts?

I'm exhausted at Five O'clock so I jump into bed and turn off the light. I'm am fast asleep even without my headsets in my ears, blasting music.

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