the rix mix

2004: The lady with the van & crew from homeless preverntion aborted a second trip, she didn't like what I was moving, It's a bigger space, I want to sort & toss out there.
Nope.

Jim brought the futon. Edie some clothes & kitchen stuff. Joe offered help anonymously but I didn't pick up the cues. Unsure of our relationship, he could've finished it an afternoon with a couple of union guys. Jeff loaned me his old station wagon, & so began three days of short trips all by myself. Yet I was grateful.

I was glad my sister wasn't involved. Tho she would have organized it better than anyone. But not one part of the move would have amused her. It was freaking me out. I couldn't say it was a better place (it was), only that the rent would no longer be a problem. Sister would not have to save my ass on that matter anymore. So maybe, free of the economic crap, we could reconnect. Been only a year estranged at that point, not yet an abyss. Of course my niece was corrrect, that I had no better a friend. As family. as a screw up brother. But I still had a few who knew me well enough & a little differently.

So here I am 2009, hardly bother a soul, landlord likes me, gets my part of the rent check, which I can afford, reliably around the first,

Now I won't move unless I have to or someone points me to a better place. I'm ready to buy cheap rugs, even a small bed fur here, . Make the other room an office with storeage. Get a printer for recalcitrant correspondants, back in business, business being the amateur writer you know.

But the real reason is I am chonically ill I want a more comfortable conventional space. Being nicer to oneself isn't selfishness.

Unless one is in it for the view, an apt is always a gamble. All it takes is the tenant below you boiling a goat head. Twice a week.


I know what happens third day off ciggies cold turkey. Angthing, Nothing positive except money not spent,
Knock atuff over.



Slpping & slidding,