It doesn't bother me...
to get up in the morning, although the front door is a chore. Once I can open that, which I do by going to the bathroom, the rest is down hill. Makes me a misfit? Hmmm. I get up today and get behind my computer. Where am I supposed to be today? My WEP Assignment. I glance at the clock. The time is 4:30am. This is not all that good. My world shrinks, all the people in the back of my head scream out. I have my WEP Assignment. Tomorrow...no...Thursday, I'm going to get that changed. But what am I going to do today? I have excuses for the end of the day, but nothing to cover me in the morning.
I don't give a good goddamn. I know that FEGS is going to make me mark my words, and eat crow like a crying baby, but until then, I don't know what being on their shit list is like. I wonder if it'll be like when I got on the shit list on my job. My wrong was so egregious that I wasn't reprimanded, as so many others, I was flat out fired. That's my luck my friend. When I fuck up, I go the royal route. That's why I'm trying to do the same the correct way, hopefully the same route will take me. Naaahhh, I don't think so either. I'll probably get booted from FEGS, booted from my benefits, booted from my SRO, booted from my mental health care, and sent back to the streets like I've seen so many before me. I knew being here in this place was a slippery slope, that's why I never really moved in.
Now that I'm creating roots, it's time to show me who the boss is. It certainly isn't me. I'm surviving now through the kindness of others. Not that I'm above accepting it, I just need to see the faces behind the smiley masks. I'm fast and easy with their excuse notes, we'll see how this flies. I'm still mulling over my FAIR HEARING that I could throw at FEGS. What would be the benefit, and what is my case. I have the deadline for that coming up fast.
I also have to pick an HMO from my medicaid. That deadline is rushing towards me also. Here's the trick, if I don't pick one, they'll go ahead and pick one for me. What do you think that they'll pick the absolute worst HMO possible. And then my private poetry reading at the DUSTY KITTY, aka V's home. I haven't put anything together for it. I don't know if I'm going to read new stuff or old stuff. Ugh, the boring life of a New York Poet. I have a lot coming together this week, the question is: Will I beat them all?
I let time slip by and crawl back into bed. Later I wake up, far too late to get to the WEP Assignment on time and wonder what is going to go down because of this? I wonder. I get ready for my psychiatrist. I head over to the office and wait until seen. She waddles out and leads me into her office. She breathes heavily, she is dangerously obese. "OH, you've gained weight!" She says with a smile. Hmmm, that's funny, I've been exercising and my pants fit loosely on me this morning. "I can see it in your belly and your face," she is beaming. Well, that's just great. That's just want I wanted to hear from my psychiatrist this afternoon.
"So, how's the LUVOX?" She asks. Good, no complaints. "Getting that social anxiety under control?" Yeah, I would suppose so. I had a good experience in reading poetry the last few weeks, less stress. "That's good. Well, I'm going to now kick you up to the operating dose. It's here that the med works its best. The smaller dose is just to see if you adapt well to the drug." Well, I'm adapting, lets go. She scribbles out a new prescription.
I walk out and reschedule another appointment in a month and get my 'little boy' excuse letter from the office. I run to my psychologist's office and catch the end of my social anxiety session and sign paperwork afterwards. After this double dose of this mind shit I head back home. The day is hot like a motherfucker when the sun comes out, and the women that are walking about in their summer dresses are downright hypnotic. It's funny, in the summertime everything moves on a woman. Her tits bounce, her hips sway, her ass jiggles. She's just poetry in motion. She has murder as a body. I make it to the Way, and then uptown to my crib in complete amazement.
I don't really fuck around when I get home. I take my clothes off, hop behind my computer and scan for email and IMs. Then I get on the Internet and fuck around until tired. I soon crawl into bed at around six in the evening and slip off into sleep. I wonder what's up with my sleep patterns. They are getting worse and worse.
I gained weight....
Well, I never...
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/07/making-roots-on-slippery-slopes.html
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