The scuttlebutt down at the shopping center this morning was that Ferret has managed to secure a bed in a group home for homeless, alcoholic men for a tenure of nine months. I looked up their website on the web and was dismayed to find this to be one of those religious programs (which aren’t? When did the Christians corner the market on trading in insolvent, indigent, and/or addicted men? ) where you are force fed sermons during the day of a fundamentalist nature (the website reeked of fundie). Ferret doesn’t have a religious bone in his body so I am kind of concerned as to how long he will actually stay and put up with all that pretentious nonsense. At least for the time being, he has a roof over his head, a bed, and three square meals a day. The poor dude deserved a break, but now he has to deal with Jesus freaks for nine months and their ignominious preaching just to get some help. Who knows? Maybe he will get born again. With winter coming on, this was good news to hear for Ferret’s sake despite the bible thumpin’ nature of the program. Ferret’s condition was degrading on a daily basis. My brother always told me, “You have to believe in something,” in regards to Alcoholics Anonymous and it’s religious overtones which often caused me to chide in distaste. Maybe the same will hold true for Ferret as well. I would much rather to not have anything but good to write about that fellow for a change if anything at all. Ferret deserves a break.
George wins the numbskull of the day award today. Big S said he had seen him earlier this morning and George related to him the story of his running over his mother’s mailbox last night. Big S said George was in an abnormally animated mode of discussion today as he shared the lurid details of his run-in with Postal Service property. Luckily, not much was harmed other than George’s pride and a $50 mailbox. I didn’t even have to ask Big S if he was drunk. It was a given. George is another individual in my life that is definitely burning his candle at both ends. Why do all these drunks gravitate towards me? It must be my alluring charm, wit, and discerning ear; my drunken gravitas. I seemed to have stamped on my forehead “Drunk? Yes, I will talk to you! Have a seat!”
Last night was unpleasantly hot and humid. A cold front blew through with an unceremonious whimper during the night bringing little relief and the storms ahead of it had dissipated long before it arrived much to my chagrin. We got a few brief sprinkles of rain as if the weather gods were mocking me and my weather obsession. The mosquitoes were also hellacious last night. I spent much of the night fending off the little blood sucking bastards instead of sleeping. It was too hot to roll up the windows of my car. There is no more miserable feeling than literally being eaten alive for hours on end by a foe you can barely see. Note to self: Get mosquito repellant today, pronto!
Morning arrived much to my relief with me sitting at my sunrise spot in the park. I sat eating a Payday candy bar and drinking a pint of milk as I welcomed in the magical hour. I looked at my watch and it seemed several hours had passed in a moment’s notice; I, living in my own little world that inhabits this dusty and cobweb festooned malfunctioning mind.
I had several people remark to me today about how much weight I have lost lately. The medications for schizophrenia are notorious for causing weight gain and not being able to lose weight. I am having the exact opposite problem these days. I rarely look into a mirror so this piqued my curiosity. One of the dollar stores has an old fashioned scale were you can weigh yourself for a dime. I got on it and weighed. 190 pounds. I have lost 30 pounds with no effort on my part. I seriously need to stop eating out of a can and get back to eating three nutritious meals a day again. My appetite has just been nonexistent though. I have to force myself to eat. I am fueled by cigarettes and diet cokes these days.
No comments:
Post a Comment