The magical hour is soon to start. It is about 15 minutes away. The first light of dawn is on the horizon. I call it the magical hour in that this is when the birds first start to call in the morning. They create this great cacophony of noise. When I was homeless, I used to could tell the time by the magical hour. I knew dawn was on the way when it started and it often woke me up. Well, the magical hour just started as I was writing this. Here’s to another day. It still brings me joy to hear it. During those long, cold winter nights when I was homeless, the magical hour was a welcomed occurrence. It meant that the warmer temperatures of the day where on the way. Damn, those were some cold nights.
I don’t have much planned for today. I need to get on the ball as far as setting up an appointment with my therapist and scheduling my injections. I am way past due for my shot. I rebelled against my father this last time and didn’t get it. I can tell a big difference without it. My “ghosting” is off the scale; nothing like seeing a bunch of holographic looking cats lying around your home.
Also, I want to get down to the river and see about Ferret. George told me yesterday that he is not doing well. He said he looked guant as if he was not eating enough. I hope he will walk across the highway with me and eat lunch at Sarah Jay’s. I worry about Ferret as I can see much of myself in him when I was homeless. That hard drinking will really take a toll on you. Mouthwash ain’t exactly the beverage of choice for burgeoning alcoholics. George said that is all he is drinking these days.
Well, let me take a shower and shave. The mental health clinic opens at 8 AM and I want to be first in line. I want to get that taken care of and then I am going to see about Ferret. We might just go fishing for fun. I think Ferret needs a break and I am going to give him one. A good meal and some fishing sounds pretty fun, don’t you think?
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