Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Friday, December 19, 2003

Oh, boy!

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I woke at 4:30 am, troubled by a financial burdon, which I'll discuss later, once I'm more awake and less emotionally vulnerable.

I fumbled in the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and to warm a cup of old from the thermos.

I came back to bed to check email, post in blogs and newsgroups, and rest my weary legs.

I walked nearly ten miles in the last 24 hours. My legs and feet are hot, swollen, tingling, numb in patches and very achy.

I reached for my pack of cigarettes: only one left. Do I smoke it now, or wait as long as I can? I couldn't take a bus to the Pueblo Cultural Center for three and a half hours, so...

Oh, boy! I bought a pack at the convenience store yesterday! I've got enough to last the whole day, and part of tomorrow!

That means I don't have to go out in the cold of morning on sore legs!

I went to work on my blogs.

After an hour, hunger began gnawing at me. I thought of cereal, which isn't satisfying as anything other than a snack. I thought of a glass of milk, which only fills for an hour or so.

OH BOY! I have ham! I picked out three, small slices and ate them. No cooking, no eggs or anything else: just enough ham to stop the hunger pangs. No interrupting my train of thought and baiting my bad memory, in order to put together something to eat. I simply ate and went back to work.

It's nearly six am now. The fresh coffee's in the thermos. My duties at my blogs are nearly done for now. It's still dark outside.

I'm covered in cats and the dog.

As soon as this post is done and logged in, I'm going to turn off the MSNTV and the radio, and take a nap.

It'll be sunny and calm today, in the low 50s. As long as I stay out of the shade, where old snow lies, I should be plenty warm this afternoon. I'll have time to warm my muscles, puttering around here, before going out.

I took a shower last night, so my hair's clean; I won't need to leave the house with a wet head. I won't have to stagger in the shower on these wobbly legs.

The only unavoidable pain will be the 2-block walk, up the steep hill on my street, coming back from the bus stop.

Oh, boy! I'm going back to sleep!

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