The landlady’s grandson showed up with a tractor and bushhog to cut the grass here...some of it was well over my head. She had asked when she collected the rent earlier, what I planned to do about all that grass. I told her I had no idea. Then we got a wild hare (the one that sometimes runs through the backyard naked singing Janis Joplin tunes) on Mother’s Day and decided to go splurge at Waffle House. The car’s starter died.
My starter, still somewhat functional (dammitall) was wondering what would happen next. A nice young guy pounded on the starter for a while, as I kept trying to start the car and it finally worked...suddenly the engine was running and I realized I could let go of the key. We got ussuns and the car back home. Wasn’t about to risk getting stranded again even if it started again (it cooperates sometimes, and didn’t ever start again), so all the doc appointments were canceled. Still got 15 days till any money shows up. A friend sent another friend with a care package of half a carton of cigs (sans alcohol).
Slept as much as possible, then wakefulness bitch-slapped me and I was forced into the day. Drank the thermos of coffee. The fan in here died and it’s so damn quite I nearly hear the cosmic microwave background radiation over the air conditioner and my own wheezing. I crave Thorazine. I don’t think I would give a shit if I had enough of that. It’s the grind...(special house blend) I’m just about ground down. Things that should be, at most, only temporary and minor inconveniences get to be too much. We got about six big-ass garbage bags of garbage collected in the kitchen. No one comes to pick up garbage here, you carry your own down to the dumpster. If you can’t carry it... like if you can’t wipe your ass you sit in it. Funk startin’ to stank up in heah. Like a few grains of road salt dragged across bare nerve endings. Escape. I escape as much as I can.
Still watch Netflix a lot. Today went with concerts...not just little snippets and one song videos, whole concerts. On Youtube. Note...if you’re gonna watch an Elvis concert and a Bee Gees, do the Bee Gees first...those chipmonk voices are a little shattering after an hour of Elvis. Had some John Mayall, some Carpenters, Joe Cocker, and just to round up any stray neurons not quite melted yet, poured on a little Buckethead and That1Guy. Damn fly sitting over the “File” button on the tool bar.
Can’t believe I got through all those years of quiet before I had noisemakers...course I didn’t wheeze as much then. I wish, instead of just going immediately black when I kick, I could do a cool fade out, traveling outward to a God’s eye view of the planet first. Meh. Elvis tossed out scarves at his concert. Buckethead is handing out stuff from a garbage bag...what the hell is that? Should I want one? Anybody know something that can put you out fer a couple weeks? Little Joe Cartwright never had these problems...’course he was rich. See if I can be on Facebook for a couple hours without getting too fluximated. Tears make the tea taste weird.
TRB
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