I have slept for most of the past three days. Friday, Saturday afternoon and evening, Sunday. Up now after 4 am Monday. In and out of sleep much of the time. Sometimes in dreamy half-sleep where the dreams flow in and out and I cannot follow a thought for more than two seconds if I try to. Wore the Strasburg Sock for a while. Plantar fasciitis getting bad in right heel. The sock helped a little after many hours.
Rent, money, suicidal thoughts. Eventually, I expect, some money will come through from the Social Security. $20k min, however you calculate it. As much as twice that maybe. Meantime I’m skint. To William Street two weeks ago, Mobilization for Justice, to meet little Jenn, the oriental with a Jewish married name. Very nice. She’s taking care of the SS portion of my problem. Big blustery Meaghan W a week later. I have to double-check my checks to Jeffries Morris and get back to her. She sent me an accounting with the missing checks from JMI’s end. That was last Tuesday.
Last Wednesday was jury duty. A one-day special. Nobody got empaneled, we were released at 4pm. The pay is now $72 per diem. Wow. For years and years it was $40. And the check came when it came. I went to Walker’s for lunch. John Harty there. Told me I was Number Six, the sixth person ever to order a Coke (or whatever) when on jury duty. Others all say they need a drink. Well, yes, when you’re on a long trial, day after day.
To Prospect Park at 3:30am on Saturday. Falling Leaves Half Marathon. I worked on Finish. I heard Bryan Garcia talking to some new trainees for Timing. I have decided that he is the one who decided to ding me for the timing gig, which I did only two or three times at the end of last year. Not sure I’d ever wish to do that again, but I’m sorely pissed at the way I was treated. Mainly it was barricades and mesh, put ’em up, take ’em down, stand out on West Drive for a couple of hours in front of the Finish chute.
Finally walked to Bartel-Pritchard around 12:45pm. Crowds at the square for the silly “No Kings” gathering. Reports say there were “thousands” protesting there and in Times Square.
I thought I had a Bellevue appointment this week, Oct 24th I vaguely remembered, but I don’t. Looking at the MyChart it appears I may have had a telephone interview on the 16th. Must phone them this week. I have two mega objections to the records so far. First, Schiffman put me down as having the CTCL in remission. It certainly was not in remission. Then, I now notice it put me down as weighing 172 lbs. The only weight information I ever gave was last December, saying 145 lbs. It may well have been more than that, but never anywhere near 172.
Depressed and pissed off all over. I needed that sleep. Grimm gave me a little boo last Monday, and I went through it for the next three days. It didn’t provoke anxiety, the way the stuff often does. I did go through one or two sleepless nights.
Sent Michael Harrington a thank you letter, long an digressive, about Yale in the CSA. Rewrote it about three times because of the boo.
Missed Mass again and again. Must fix that. Confession, communion. Dig myself out of this morass.
