I am playing my once a month gig tonight so today I am semi-gainfully part-time employed.
Wahoo.
Only I am now trying to keep my roommate's mother from getting too freaky on anger worry and madness aka Alzheimer's. Ask her and she will say it is(the diagnosis) all a grand conspiracy to take away her oil wells and her '96 Pontiac. I am not ready to take her disease on unaided today so she gets her second 150mg quetiapine of the day. It usually slows her down a bit and quiets down the agitation. She non-verbally cues me she is getting worked up by slapping her hands together and again verbally with the Reaganesque talking sotto voce around the back of her hand, "Can you tell me how to get out of here?"
Yes, Sir! Yes, Sir! Three Bras Full
She gets dressed but it takes a little convincing she hasn't had her clothes stolen and she can wear something else today. She calls me back to the bedroom. She has a bra on inside out and can't fasten it. I help her and she says, "This is where I slept last night." "I have three new bras they should last me the rest of my life." I am not sure if she is telling me how long she expects to live or that she only needs one bra or something else.
I sit and wonder if the seroquel will take away the restlessness or I will have to take her for a drive, a shampoo and set or she will fall asleep. This is new to all of us even the shrink isn't sure what this will do to for an 86-year-old with agitated Alzheimer's. Boredom a dangerous state of mind with a hole burning in her pocket an itch to settle her affairs and to get going on her way home. She needs us to take care of her. Just a short time ago, she was ready to go into the hall to look for her things in her nightie. Only she struggled with the locks and never made it outside. She asked me how she looked after she got dressed. I said she looked "sporty" to which she remarked, "Yeah and I am 86 years old!"
Her daughters praise her and pamper her a lot and she needs the attention to feel good about herself. Having her way is what she knows and she was/is a tyrant to her family. I am just learning her M.O..
I have been promised she will be "placed" somewhere and we can get back on track but several setbacks have left me skeptical or at the least not holding my breath.
It is hard to have compassion on someone who is mean and nasty to you but if they are mentally ill, organic or not, there are chemical(MEDICAL) solutions, "lay down take a red, Grandma" I wish there was a pill for angst that wouldn't drop your dick in the dirt and rape your hepatic cells. I don't think it exists. Some AK-47 would do.(AK-47 a hybrid descendant of Matanuska madness)
"safe and restful sleep sleep sleep" soma sominex seroquel lexapram mota
What the World Needs Now
How can we take the edge off the world the "existential angst" that quivering fear that eats us alive? Budweiser? Sports? Tequila? Sex? nah have sex first then Jose
I remember I have a gig today, its not endless day watchman there will be treats served after the meeting. Surprise, Friday I get to take the old lady to the VA shrink whom she showers with unlimited contempt. "Don't piss off the shrink, Grandma." 400 mg is headed your way, the 'ol chemical straitjacket. She's really old school and the psych ward is where they put the really crazy ones and( a remark behind the hand) "I ain't crazy." "It's all a conspiracy," she reminds me. She isn't over her latest paranoid delusion quite yet. Conspiracy theories, great fodder for the blogmill. I thought this was going to amount to nothing. Maybe I am part of the conspiracy.Something tells me this is so.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
All dressed up and nowhere to go
It s 10:30 am and my partner's mom is coming out of her slumber induced by seroquel and atavan. It' sthat or she is a wild and unruly beast that we are in no way prepared to deal with. A veteran she gets the best treatment with an orthopedist for her 4 artificial joints (both hips both knees) and her shoulder which she beleieves will be surgically replaced. She has a psychiatrist for her anxiety and tension, a GP for a referee, a master pharmacist to monitor her coumadin levels, a social worker to referee her family, and a neurologist to monitor her benign brain tumor(meningioma). I have inherited the grunt job. Shopping cooking and answering phones and driving her to the endless appoinments to those VA Dr.s.
She has been worried about her "home" in Virginia that she intends on driving to and "straightening things out". Unfortunately, she can no longer drive or understand the property was sold years ago and her relatives do not have the time energy or will to care for her at all. I am here to watch her to keep her busy and occupied which without the tranquilizer can not be done anymore. Her daughters are almost on the same page about all this but with unfinished business all around there is a reluctance to move on and place her in full time(sic) care. I wonder how many millions are going through all this with aging and dying parents. An illness like cancer or parkinson's might be easier than the slow burnout of the mind. These people with Alzheimer's take a huge toll on society our time our energy our health and at times our very sanity. There is no plan no solution no place for people like her to go unless they are rich or very poor. No compensation for most of the caregivers who watch after them as they rot away mentally and physically and suck the life out of their families. My goal today is distract her from her obsession of going to the bank and "fixing those people" "you know" those people who do those things"
The scary part was she asked me yesterday(she doesn't remember)to go to the bank because she "needs a man" to go there and straighten things out. I don't want to be the muscle for her sordid errands. When she gets frustrated about not being able to drive she says she is calling the sheriff. She had hallucinations before she moved in with us. She can't dial a phone anymore but she can rant and swing her arms around and threaten to "kick your ass" but this is all she has left in her quiver. It is sad its pathetic and its annoying beyond my tolerance at times and that is why I err on the side of adequate medication otherwise she's dangerous .
It is still two hours before my partner gets home and I get a break to take a walk and chill a bit.
There are no jobs I want to apply for today even if I could get away. Another week lost no money coming in for me.
She has been worried about her "home" in Virginia that she intends on driving to and "straightening things out". Unfortunately, she can no longer drive or understand the property was sold years ago and her relatives do not have the time energy or will to care for her at all. I am here to watch her to keep her busy and occupied which without the tranquilizer can not be done anymore. Her daughters are almost on the same page about all this but with unfinished business all around there is a reluctance to move on and place her in full time(sic) care. I wonder how many millions are going through all this with aging and dying parents. An illness like cancer or parkinson's might be easier than the slow burnout of the mind. These people with Alzheimer's take a huge toll on society our time our energy our health and at times our very sanity. There is no plan no solution no place for people like her to go unless they are rich or very poor. No compensation for most of the caregivers who watch after them as they rot away mentally and physically and suck the life out of their families. My goal today is distract her from her obsession of going to the bank and "fixing those people" "you know" those people who do those things"
The scary part was she asked me yesterday(she doesn't remember)to go to the bank because she "needs a man" to go there and straighten things out. I don't want to be the muscle for her sordid errands. When she gets frustrated about not being able to drive she says she is calling the sheriff. She had hallucinations before she moved in with us. She can't dial a phone anymore but she can rant and swing her arms around and threaten to "kick your ass" but this is all she has left in her quiver. It is sad its pathetic and its annoying beyond my tolerance at times and that is why I err on the side of adequate medication otherwise she's dangerous .
It is still two hours before my partner gets home and I get a break to take a walk and chill a bit.
There are no jobs I want to apply for today even if I could get away. Another week lost no money coming in for me.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Memorial Day
What will they say about us after we are gone? Memorials of those dead or lost happens once a year. We are supposed to get into this holiday or not and go to the mall and spend a lot of money to distract ourselves from this awareness of death and loss. Memorial Day was for remembrance of warriors lost in wars or who fought in wars and died later. Life outside of war also has casualties not necessarily blessed by Pentagon bullets or terrorist IEDs.
If I called it "Day of the Dead" instead who would know if it was Halloween or Memorial Day. I could call it "buy flowers and drop them at a graveyard day" but that's too long and sounds like a florist's holiday. Or a salute to memory a mental resource slipping away out the door in many boomer's homes included here with an aging parent getting excited about meeting up with her grandmother who has been dead for 30 years. (ancestors calling)
This(life) is the place between birth and death. More human beings alive than dead on this planet(celebration time?) yet the ancestors get top billing since they already made their marks on the world.
The old one talks like she is once again five years old then she is a teen getting asked out on her first date with the preacher's son. A dream? Medication(side effect) or dementia. This is the way she lives each day, immersed in memory desire and regret(aversion)nothing new here on memorial day.
I do think of it as a day of the dead. Friends and family gone on to the next stage some by nature some by choice and others by design, I suppose, or if a deity is involved all by design. This would be easier if I had faith in design of manifest destiny or destiny period. I have been reading James Hillman's tome on calling and character. The soul that accompanies us on our journey and forces us to follow a path i.e. soul purpose or was that sole porpoise...
Why think at all if everything is just easily and blindly following with trust faith and devotion? I sometimes envy the dead or the religious braindead. They have no(or fewer) anxieties nor regrets. Of course later(maybe) in hell they may have some regrets but no ablity to make a shift in their karma. My own fate is still in flux I still have a slight chance of making a difference(redemption) if I can remember how to live fully and celebrate life without bitterness (salvation).
That is THE challenge for me. The peaceful happy times were not so really and I wish not to repeat them nor wish to relive them. It is this frame of mind that makes me miserable realizing the past is not great or my resume, bank balance, and references would look better. So I lie a little to myself but I know what it was really like deception betrayal defeat and many recoveries. I still have some attachment to false competencies and retaining a semblence of reasonable success. My beliefs and sanity depend on self-defined sucess or what I define as life and what life defines as me. I remember my tribe and my life as a monk. I was a part of mindful living after losing my father and a hole was left inside of me. I guess the pain is bearable now because I know I can endure a lot and still emerge to live again.
This is what I remember today. I can be happy and I can be sad I hope it all comes back to me.
All of it. Then I will know I have arrived here ready to go there. Happy Memorial Day.
If I called it "Day of the Dead" instead who would know if it was Halloween or Memorial Day. I could call it "buy flowers and drop them at a graveyard day" but that's too long and sounds like a florist's holiday. Or a salute to memory a mental resource slipping away out the door in many boomer's homes included here with an aging parent getting excited about meeting up with her grandmother who has been dead for 30 years. (ancestors calling)
This(life) is the place between birth and death. More human beings alive than dead on this planet(celebration time?) yet the ancestors get top billing since they already made their marks on the world.
The old one talks like she is once again five years old then she is a teen getting asked out on her first date with the preacher's son. A dream? Medication(side effect) or dementia. This is the way she lives each day, immersed in memory desire and regret(aversion)nothing new here on memorial day.
I do think of it as a day of the dead. Friends and family gone on to the next stage some by nature some by choice and others by design, I suppose, or if a deity is involved all by design. This would be easier if I had faith in design of manifest destiny or destiny period. I have been reading James Hillman's tome on calling and character. The soul that accompanies us on our journey and forces us to follow a path i.e. soul purpose or was that sole porpoise...
Why think at all if everything is just easily and blindly following with trust faith and devotion? I sometimes envy the dead or the religious braindead. They have no(or fewer) anxieties nor regrets. Of course later(maybe) in hell they may have some regrets but no ablity to make a shift in their karma. My own fate is still in flux I still have a slight chance of making a difference(redemption) if I can remember how to live fully and celebrate life without bitterness (salvation).
That is THE challenge for me. The peaceful happy times were not so really and I wish not to repeat them nor wish to relive them. It is this frame of mind that makes me miserable realizing the past is not great or my resume, bank balance, and references would look better. So I lie a little to myself but I know what it was really like deception betrayal defeat and many recoveries. I still have some attachment to false competencies and retaining a semblence of reasonable success. My beliefs and sanity depend on self-defined sucess or what I define as life and what life defines as me. I remember my tribe and my life as a monk. I was a part of mindful living after losing my father and a hole was left inside of me. I guess the pain is bearable now because I know I can endure a lot and still emerge to live again.
This is what I remember today. I can be happy and I can be sad I hope it all comes back to me.
All of it. Then I will know I have arrived here ready to go there. Happy Memorial Day.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Friday: I am Negative and Two Friends Call
Last night one of my two best friends called to leave a message that he had been evicted from his home. I didn't want to call at the time and waited until this morning. He has a history and a diagnosis of bipolar disorder. He has never hurt anyone but because of his size is intimidating and things tend to get out of hand at times. He calls me. He locked himself out of his house and his parents who live nearby were out of town. They had his spare set of keys and the landlord was with them. He had a visitor, our 90-year-old former high school principal and classmate of my dad, waiting on his porch in the heat. In a state of clarity (sort of) he decided to slap the door and the 1x4 that held the lock came off the hinge and open sesame they were in. The dead bolt still held the door in place securely. The next day, his folks returned and the landlord was called over to show him the damage and hear the report of my friend. To which the landlord said, "We can't have anything like this." And then tried to force his way into my friend's apartment. To which my friend pushed him back out and the landlord called him a "chickenshit" and it went downhill from there. Apparently, this was residual resentment after my friend unplugged the landlord's powertool he had plugged into his outlet without asking. There was no actual eviction notice served. I told him the guy had to follow the law especially since my friend is a disabled veteran (not that they always get treated well either).
Shortly thereafter, I got a call from my other bestfriend who after reading this blog was concerned that I wanted to make the "7 minute swim" after my ordeal at the self sufficiency center. All three of us have a suicide pact which we swore "not alone" all for one or none.
It was a sobering and friendly reminder to realize I was sliding towards giving up since there doesn't seem to be a lot of need (nor renumeration) for my gifts. As I wrote hunger pangs keep me aware of my fate as an artist (Schumann starved himself to death). Some may remember my songs. That is all any writer can say and I have said it. It is fortunate for me to have such friends as I have talked of today. I don't have to dance around my issues they know me well and accept me. They have worried about me in this employment bardo, both of them offering to take me in. I wonder how long it can be until someone gets to believe in me enough to give me a job. They don't know it but they saved my life today. As the universe goes on so does my saga. Its moving. My friend says that's the only direction the universe moves. I got my TB Test and surprise, I am negative.
Shortly thereafter, I got a call from my other bestfriend who after reading this blog was concerned that I wanted to make the "7 minute swim" after my ordeal at the self sufficiency center. All three of us have a suicide pact which we swore "not alone" all for one or none.
It was a sobering and friendly reminder to realize I was sliding towards giving up since there doesn't seem to be a lot of need (nor renumeration) for my gifts. As I wrote hunger pangs keep me aware of my fate as an artist (Schumann starved himself to death). Some may remember my songs. That is all any writer can say and I have said it. It is fortunate for me to have such friends as I have talked of today. I don't have to dance around my issues they know me well and accept me. They have worried about me in this employment bardo, both of them offering to take me in. I wonder how long it can be until someone gets to believe in me enough to give me a job. They don't know it but they saved my life today. As the universe goes on so does my saga. Its moving. My friend says that's the only direction the universe moves. I got my TB Test and surprise, I am negative.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
A Long Wait for Free Bus Tickets: No Thanks to Jimmy Carter!
When I was going to college you could get food stamps and not work. Where I went to school there were no jobs and it boosted the local economy. Now you have to be pregnant,and/or over 62, and /or disabled or in rehab (I mean IN there) or you have to sign a lien against future wages in order to get support. You also get fingerprinted and photographed. My how the times do change. I guess I am a wimp but if I redefine myself as humbled for reqesting assistance when I am not pregnant over 62(hey when are they gonna raise that?)Disabled or rehabbing my addiction obsession of the month, year decade or trend.
The Place
2000 San Pablo Avenue Oakland CA, (St. Paul that zealot) the place where you get help fill out the paper. After 38 pages of the application I was feeling a mixture of anger grief depression depair and helplessness and to myself I added, "maybe robbing a bank or selling some crack would be easier and a little less humiliating." The person next to me agreed the powers didn't want this process to be easy or everyone would line up for "free food stamps" like I had in the Carter years.
That damn Nobel Laureate James Earl "Jimmy" Carter. Thank Goddess Daddy Reagan got on board and fixed that shit and Uncle Bill ended welfare as we (no shit) knew it. It not a hand out, it's a loan and some collectors will be after your ass just like the pirates who sail the world searching for students near to default to chase the last few cents they own.
That's right the banks the corporations and the government are all in this to "help" the poor and the lazy to get back on their feet.
Welfare to work. Wouldn't it be easier to just hand out dollars like I do when I have it? No! Where would the social workers go? The three county sheriff deputies and the fingerprint guy?
Hey this ain't Italy O.K.? But Oaktown do have it share of govment job.
"We're not looking for a hand out, just a hand."
That's from the eighties. Am I stuck in the post Reagan recession or is it just my hairline?
My EC (eligibility counselor) was very nice she sorted through my pile of paperwork and pulled out all the pile I did by accident handing some back to me and some she filed into three stacks. I had filled out an application for medical coverage(medi-cal)which is one thing I am not in need of (besides a job and natural anti-depressants ie sex). As I sat and watched her work I sobbed, it was the second time while there I had trouble fighting back the tears, since rage was not an option with the sheriff(Johnny law) right around the corner. I said "Sorry, Mondays are never that great for me." She did a second take trying not to let on she was evaluating my worthiness to recieve a loan from the govment since I was not morally fit to recieve unemployment.
I was asked to sign several forms I did not want to read including my right to recieve all information in English. EC informed me this(GA) was not hand out but a real loan I must pay back or else(hard time on the "rock"). I was advised to recover my unemployment denial letter from EDD and a note from my landlord comfirming I lived there and had paid rent in the past. EC told me I was finished and to get the stuff to her before the first or call and get an extension.
I Return for a Second Day
The next day I had my second meeting. GA, general assistance, the cashola that used to be given out "free". Now it's just a loan paid back in labor or installments or garnished wages, garnished tax returns, garnished alimony or lotto winnings(not really the lotto is free money). Oh Jimmy Carter! Where are you now, Brother Jimmy?
I got to meet the SW (social Worker) who suggested I try something else for a job. I had flashbacks to the eighties again (the last time I applied for unemployment). "You are a teacher? You need to apply for teaching jobs. You can be a substitute teacher." Time for the strait waistcoat and maybe some valium? Stress comes in two varieties; future and past form. Both are forms of embracing powerlessness hopelessness at least in my frame of mind. A sane positive one might see empowerment and accomplishment. naught mine.
One more thing a fresh TB test(less than 12 months old) "Who pay? I have no means." she said. "We(the state) Do." they said.
I was done except for the free bus tickets to get to the clinic for the TB Test. No passes for job hunts just TB Test and a copy of the requisition just in case we blow it the first time and have to get a second TB Test. I was sent to the waiting room. The waiting room equippped with three seated county sheriff deputies behind a desk with a sign
"THIS IS NOT THE INFORMATION DESK."
I was told to wait for my name to be called. I waited and watched as a line of people one-by-one, got their names called, signed for their 4 AC transit tickets, 4 tranfers and walked out. I waited and no more names were called so I moved over near the window and the deputy looked at my saddle bags and told me I couldn't block his exit to the break room. They never called my name. About 5 minutes later I got my free tickets and walked out much relieved I had endured the ordeal of applying for GA and food stamps. Thanks USDA, U$Taxpayers, City of Oakland,
AC Transit, oh yeah and the Feds. No thanks to you, Jimmy Carter!
The Place
2000 San Pablo Avenue Oakland CA, (St. Paul that zealot) the place where you get help fill out the paper. After 38 pages of the application I was feeling a mixture of anger grief depression depair and helplessness and to myself I added, "maybe robbing a bank or selling some crack would be easier and a little less humiliating." The person next to me agreed the powers didn't want this process to be easy or everyone would line up for "free food stamps" like I had in the Carter years.
That damn Nobel Laureate James Earl "Jimmy" Carter. Thank Goddess Daddy Reagan got on board and fixed that shit and Uncle Bill ended welfare as we (no shit) knew it. It not a hand out, it's a loan and some collectors will be after your ass just like the pirates who sail the world searching for students near to default to chase the last few cents they own.
That's right the banks the corporations and the government are all in this to "help" the poor and the lazy to get back on their feet.
Welfare to work. Wouldn't it be easier to just hand out dollars like I do when I have it? No! Where would the social workers go? The three county sheriff deputies and the fingerprint guy?
Hey this ain't Italy O.K.? But Oaktown do have it share of govment job.
"We're not looking for a hand out, just a hand."
That's from the eighties. Am I stuck in the post Reagan recession or is it just my hairline?
My EC (eligibility counselor) was very nice she sorted through my pile of paperwork and pulled out all the pile I did by accident handing some back to me and some she filed into three stacks. I had filled out an application for medical coverage(medi-cal)which is one thing I am not in need of (besides a job and natural anti-depressants ie sex). As I sat and watched her work I sobbed, it was the second time while there I had trouble fighting back the tears, since rage was not an option with the sheriff(Johnny law) right around the corner. I said "Sorry, Mondays are never that great for me." She did a second take trying not to let on she was evaluating my worthiness to recieve a loan from the govment since I was not morally fit to recieve unemployment.
I was asked to sign several forms I did not want to read including my right to recieve all information in English. EC informed me this(GA) was not hand out but a real loan I must pay back or else(hard time on the "rock"). I was advised to recover my unemployment denial letter from EDD and a note from my landlord comfirming I lived there and had paid rent in the past. EC told me I was finished and to get the stuff to her before the first or call and get an extension.
I Return for a Second Day
The next day I had my second meeting. GA, general assistance, the cashola that used to be given out "free". Now it's just a loan paid back in labor or installments or garnished wages, garnished tax returns, garnished alimony or lotto winnings(not really the lotto is free money). Oh Jimmy Carter! Where are you now, Brother Jimmy?
I got to meet the SW (social Worker) who suggested I try something else for a job. I had flashbacks to the eighties again (the last time I applied for unemployment). "You are a teacher? You need to apply for teaching jobs. You can be a substitute teacher." Time for the strait waistcoat and maybe some valium? Stress comes in two varieties; future and past form. Both are forms of embracing powerlessness hopelessness at least in my frame of mind. A sane positive one might see empowerment and accomplishment. naught mine.
One more thing a fresh TB test(less than 12 months old) "Who pay? I have no means." she said. "We(the state) Do." they said.
I was done except for the free bus tickets to get to the clinic for the TB Test. No passes for job hunts just TB Test and a copy of the requisition just in case we blow it the first time and have to get a second TB Test. I was sent to the waiting room. The waiting room equippped with three seated county sheriff deputies behind a desk with a sign
"THIS IS NOT THE INFORMATION DESK."
I was told to wait for my name to be called. I waited and watched as a line of people one-by-one, got their names called, signed for their 4 AC transit tickets, 4 tranfers and walked out. I waited and no more names were called so I moved over near the window and the deputy looked at my saddle bags and told me I couldn't block his exit to the break room. They never called my name. About 5 minutes later I got my free tickets and walked out much relieved I had endured the ordeal of applying for GA and food stamps. Thanks USDA, U$Taxpayers, City of Oakland,
AC Transit, oh yeah and the Feds. No thanks to you, Jimmy Carter!
Friday, May 18, 2007
I've got friends in that place
Today P called me.P is a former co-worker at Spenger's Fresh Fish Grotto. He isn't former, I am. He calls to give me encouragement and leads on new restaurant jobs. He warned me to look out the management was gunning for me. I got that idea too back in December. My partner K who had surgery in November was off on medical leave and disability pay. I got my schedule cut back with no notice to two shift a week the two weeks before xmas. But I got to work xmas eve, newyears eve and xmas day. The boss told us we needed to work these holidays. Right after New Years he announced we were getting big screeen TVs for the bar before Super Bowl Sunday. Great for business. But but but... what about the xmas party? This was our xmas gift from MSRG. A lecture. Starring R our smiling slightly manic GM. He started out to tell us how lucky we were to have him as our fearless leader as he patted himself on the back and stated how he went to bat for the employees when our payroll was delayed and how we wouldn't have gotten paid for 5 days if he hadn't hand written every check after fighting for our rights with the corporate bosses. After this speech he went on to another one about how we were the worst in the company worst in sales worst in guest averageworst in liquor sales and way way worst in bottle wine sales. As if we were running the place and not the a-holes who never set foot in the place who wrote our schedules wrote the menus and budgeted for stock repairs renovations hired all these managers with gambling jones, sexual predatory habits, and borderline personality disorders. Hey smile because now we are the best because "I" R the GM am here ready to wow the people of Berkeley with my innovations and white paint.
After hearing this lecture for two weeks in a row and never changing it in the least, I started walking out of "fresh talk" when I sensed him going into the assassination once more. It was either that or I would have been fired for saying what I just wrote here.
So, P informs me, the managers keep coming and going but the hourly employees are the responsible ones. P thinks the place will have to close to fix all the ongong problems. I suggested hiring a priest and having the place exorcised. The rats can stay but the evil spirits must go away.
After hearing this lecture for two weeks in a row and never changing it in the least, I started walking out of "fresh talk" when I sensed him going into the assassination once more. It was either that or I would have been fired for saying what I just wrote here.
So, P informs me, the managers keep coming and going but the hourly employees are the responsible ones. P thinks the place will have to close to fix all the ongong problems. I suggested hiring a priest and having the place exorcised. The rats can stay but the evil spirits must go away.
Im so Hungry I could Eat a ....
lot of pussy. That is one possible cure for my hunger and depression. Sadly, low seritonin leaves a limp desire and no money keeps me safe from anything resembling pleasure.
Anyway I was thinking about the last time I was jobless moneyless and thinking of swimming around great white sharks.
I drank cheap beverage alcohol which in spite of depression will enable the libido to emerge if for only a few minutes. Nothing works that well even music pales in its effect which scares the hell out of me. It has always been there in the past getting me out of my funk and melancholic stupor or was it the uncle ben's canadian ale?
I lost my job and now I am losing my mind. It isn't just me its where I am now with a family that i don't belong to and don't fit especially with no income. When its someone else's stomach thats empty it's a problem when its mine its political.
GA and Foodstamps
Working for a living or almost a living I have a choice mostly as to what i eat. Not working I am at the mercy of others generosity while I have been blessed with a lot of graciousness from others I have lost faith in the future since I have passed the middle of life and being vestigial I wander the streets looking for meaning. Got a quarter? Spare change? Tofu?
I finally realized I have lost everything needed to get back except my home of which I am 2 months late on rent. Luckily its the dry season coming so i won't have to worry about rain.
I can continue this blog after I lose this as well. The library lets me blog on their machines. There is plenty of reading material there even Marx and Engels who never would have worked for Spenger's Fresh Fish Grotto. So much for my radical pedigree.
"Who Knew?
Donald Rumsfeld
Anyway I was thinking about the last time I was jobless moneyless and thinking of swimming around great white sharks.
I drank cheap beverage alcohol which in spite of depression will enable the libido to emerge if for only a few minutes. Nothing works that well even music pales in its effect which scares the hell out of me. It has always been there in the past getting me out of my funk and melancholic stupor or was it the uncle ben's canadian ale?
I lost my job and now I am losing my mind. It isn't just me its where I am now with a family that i don't belong to and don't fit especially with no income. When its someone else's stomach thats empty it's a problem when its mine its political.
GA and Foodstamps
Working for a living or almost a living I have a choice mostly as to what i eat. Not working I am at the mercy of others generosity while I have been blessed with a lot of graciousness from others I have lost faith in the future since I have passed the middle of life and being vestigial I wander the streets looking for meaning. Got a quarter? Spare change? Tofu?
I finally realized I have lost everything needed to get back except my home of which I am 2 months late on rent. Luckily its the dry season coming so i won't have to worry about rain.
I can continue this blog after I lose this as well. The library lets me blog on their machines. There is plenty of reading material there even Marx and Engels who never would have worked for Spenger's Fresh Fish Grotto. So much for my radical pedigree.
"Who Knew?
Donald Rumsfeld
Hunger is Personal
Today I am on my third day of returning to a vegan diet. I am also starting my third month of being without a job. This is the story I have to tell about my life in the Bay Area coping with depression, anxiety, being intelligent and feeling like I am vestigial i.e. a little toe that grows on the surface of the foot and serves no purpose in locomotion or balance.
I was fired after I called a busboy a lazy motherfucker. This was not my first infraction with Spenger's Fresh Fish Grotto DBA McCormick and Schmick Restaurant group. I was almost fired after hearing a sous chef call me crazy. Unfortunately, no one else heard him dis on me. They all heard me go off on him for singling me out for my mental illness. I should have been fired for this alone since the chef is a sacred being in the MSRG and should never be questioned or "disrepected". I knew I was terminated almost as the words "Lazy Motherfucker" flowed out of my mouth. When J the manager asked my if I had cursed at the busser I asked if I should clock out. She laughed nervously like I hadn't said anything that could possibly end my career with MSRG. I told her she needed to look at my file. The previous GM, a crippled and slightly Caine Mutiny kind of gal, had made sure to document an unsolicited hug (sexual harrassment) and the attempted assault by a AA guest on my person which I, being the cracker I am, had provoked. So in spite of nearly 7 years of servitude including almost a year of recovering from a hit and run bicycle accident and being on limited duty I was handed a check (severence? the manager who fired me said "we have to separate" like it was a divorce. I was consumated, all right) for $253.19 and asked to leave.
Now I have a story to tell about my years with the MSRG a corporation owned by William McCormick a great GOP pioneer who has profitted personally and professionally from his support of the Bush Family Evil Empire (BFEE). It is funny that I worked for a company that supports death and destruction in the Middle East while reaping profits breaking unions and putting a nice face on the destruction of the planet. Remember Wild Salmon runs in California, Oregon Washington? The hatcheries and farms have killed them off. So MSRG gets their salmon from Chile and their Lox from Scotland. A long way from the watchful eyes of the environmentalists who monitor the world's oceans and rivers. A nice face to decimated sharks, swordfish, roughy, Seabass etc.
LET THEM
Eat bait. Sand dabs( a local favorite served "French style") a variety of sole served in a size that only a baitshop could love. "i am sorry we are out of spotted owl" would you like to try the bald eagle?"
The dead zones off the coast of Oregon, Louisiana, California's dying seabirds starved to death so the multinationals can steal krill and hake for fish farms. No more cheap tortillas for Mexicans and no coconut oil for your pina colada in paradiso either we need the biofuels. This rambling blog of a man near his last bit of medicinal cannabis is a potpouri of anger grief and depair while the planet gets divvied up by the happy neocon likes of William McCormick(insert any name in the BFEE)and his GOP warmongers. I saw the face of the beast. I was poisoned by association and now I reap my karma.
I scraped my last small change up to buy a banana to put in my rice porridge(jook). I like rice, its the stuff most of the world's people subsist on. A complete protein all by itself. Being vegan is not easy but 3 billion people are mostly that way because of the economics of food and procuring meat requires land, water, and resources controlled by a small minority. Mr Greed sells meat cuts down forests and rapes the oceans so he can get more money to give away to the BFEE and GOP neocons to kill more civilians and steal more resources from the future generation who will inherit nothing.
After reading so far wouldn't you agree that I am better off not working for the neocon death worshippers even if they would have my foul mouth disrepectful ass on the payroll?
Me too. But I am hungry and broke. In the past I used pawn shops and lost my TV(a blessing thank you Lucky Loan) because I couldn't get the dough to buy it back before my ticket expired.
Had to spend my unemployment on an abortion(1980) should have bought some condoms or got the vasectomy then (instead of waiting until 1996) but there is no deferrment for child support and I only have to worry about food and thankfully not feeding my genetic prototype of which there is no known inheritor.
"The meek shall inherit nothing"
Frank Zappa
I was fired after I called a busboy a lazy motherfucker. This was not my first infraction with Spenger's Fresh Fish Grotto DBA McCormick and Schmick Restaurant group. I was almost fired after hearing a sous chef call me crazy. Unfortunately, no one else heard him dis on me. They all heard me go off on him for singling me out for my mental illness. I should have been fired for this alone since the chef is a sacred being in the MSRG and should never be questioned or "disrepected". I knew I was terminated almost as the words "Lazy Motherfucker" flowed out of my mouth. When J the manager asked my if I had cursed at the busser I asked if I should clock out. She laughed nervously like I hadn't said anything that could possibly end my career with MSRG. I told her she needed to look at my file. The previous GM, a crippled and slightly Caine Mutiny kind of gal, had made sure to document an unsolicited hug (sexual harrassment) and the attempted assault by a AA guest on my person which I, being the cracker I am, had provoked. So in spite of nearly 7 years of servitude including almost a year of recovering from a hit and run bicycle accident and being on limited duty I was handed a check (severence? the manager who fired me said "we have to separate" like it was a divorce. I was consumated, all right) for $253.19 and asked to leave.
Now I have a story to tell about my years with the MSRG a corporation owned by William McCormick a great GOP pioneer who has profitted personally and professionally from his support of the Bush Family Evil Empire (BFEE). It is funny that I worked for a company that supports death and destruction in the Middle East while reaping profits breaking unions and putting a nice face on the destruction of the planet. Remember Wild Salmon runs in California, Oregon Washington? The hatcheries and farms have killed them off. So MSRG gets their salmon from Chile and their Lox from Scotland. A long way from the watchful eyes of the environmentalists who monitor the world's oceans and rivers. A nice face to decimated sharks, swordfish, roughy, Seabass etc.
LET THEM
Eat bait. Sand dabs( a local favorite served "French style") a variety of sole served in a size that only a baitshop could love. "i am sorry we are out of spotted owl" would you like to try the bald eagle?"
The dead zones off the coast of Oregon, Louisiana, California's dying seabirds starved to death so the multinationals can steal krill and hake for fish farms. No more cheap tortillas for Mexicans and no coconut oil for your pina colada in paradiso either we need the biofuels. This rambling blog of a man near his last bit of medicinal cannabis is a potpouri of anger grief and depair while the planet gets divvied up by the happy neocon likes of William McCormick(insert any name in the BFEE)and his GOP warmongers. I saw the face of the beast. I was poisoned by association and now I reap my karma.
I scraped my last small change up to buy a banana to put in my rice porridge(jook). I like rice, its the stuff most of the world's people subsist on. A complete protein all by itself. Being vegan is not easy but 3 billion people are mostly that way because of the economics of food and procuring meat requires land, water, and resources controlled by a small minority. Mr Greed sells meat cuts down forests and rapes the oceans so he can get more money to give away to the BFEE and GOP neocons to kill more civilians and steal more resources from the future generation who will inherit nothing.
After reading so far wouldn't you agree that I am better off not working for the neocon death worshippers even if they would have my foul mouth disrepectful ass on the payroll?
Me too. But I am hungry and broke. In the past I used pawn shops and lost my TV(a blessing thank you Lucky Loan) because I couldn't get the dough to buy it back before my ticket expired.
Had to spend my unemployment on an abortion(1980) should have bought some condoms or got the vasectomy then (instead of waiting until 1996) but there is no deferrment for child support and I only have to worry about food and thankfully not feeding my genetic prototype of which there is no known inheritor.
"The meek shall inherit nothing"
Frank Zappa
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