It’s morning. It’s Monday. I am still here-and still here. Same shitty room. Same wafer of a mattress. Same coldness and impersonality. Same lack of space and creature comforts. Hello room.
Same bronchitis, chest infection whatever it is. I think it might not go away till I do. The dampness of afore-mentioned shitty room will take care of that. I used to go away all the time. This place is certainly not set up for lingering. But lately both finding the energy and enough spare cash has put a stop to any travel adventures.
I suppose today will not be the day when I break free- Mondays I stay close so the cleaning lady doesn’t rifle through my room. She does- not just me, everyone. She gets told to. I know this for fact. I never let her get the chance, so I pretty much barricade myself in on Mondays and wait for Tuesday.
I want and need change, but I am terrified! I am trying, I really am. And I do know that sometimes I do creep forwards, but it’s a slow old process and I keep tripping myself up. And I feel so exposed and vulnerable when I do.
“Oh Joey Ramone. It’s a funny old world! Looks like rain.”
- Guinea Pig ‘Getting Sick Of It’ (wtfplanet.com)
- A Good end to a Bad start. (iseldomblog.wordpress.com)