Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Friday, May 21, 2004

I just wanna go to SLEEP!

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

I WILL stay awake!


Ok, tire went flat on the way to the duck pond. I just put in some fix a flat. It held 'til the duck pond.

Got ten eggs. Almost caught a turtle, but thought better of it. Coulda caught some baby ducks, too; they came right to me when I threw in some old crackers I found.

But I think my net plan makes more sense; can get 'em all at once, more or less. Don't want 'em hearing their brothers and sisters screaming! LOL

There was a wild bird at the pond. I don't think it was a crane. It was fishing, though. Also saw something that looked a lot like a sand piper. ANd I saw a swallow, eating bugs out of the air.

I found a good pair of shoes and an ugly, but new, tee shirt at the pond. I can wear the shirt when I work in the yard; it's good for getting filthy.

The shoes are comfortable; it was much less painful, standing on the scooter.

I burned a disc with all my stories and commentaries on it and removed them from 2 computer hard drives.

Marcos took jpegs of my scooter yesterday. I put one on the computer I use most as a wallpaper! But, damned! I forgot to email them to myself, so I can put them on my blogs! Sorry; I'll get to it.

I've started research on several new stories.

I cleaned my food out of the refrigerator. I gathered my notebooks, discs, a film I want to watch, etc.

I even blogged a bit at work.

I took most of the time I was there to work on the tire, so I wouldn't get too hot, tired, nasty or dirty. I brought the tire, wheel, innertube, liner in and washed them in the bathroom. I left them on a towel, on a table, to thoroughly dry in the sun.

The innertube had a flaw: it seperated at a seam. I'll try to patch it.

Once everything was dry, I put one of the tubes I'd patched in it and put it all back together. It's fine, for now.

I watered my plants on the patio at KUNM: I collect air conditioner drips in buckets and bowls, to water with.

I found: shampoo, body soap, towels and a foot callous emory in the trash outside a dorm today.

Renee wants me to go to UNM hospital, to sign up for some health plan, to get an accurate....hah!....diagnosis, etc.

I HATE UNMH!! They treated me like GARBAGE when my daughter died!

And, after I was beaten by that stalker, I went in, complaining of head and neck pains...which still bother me. THEY said it was "depression." Not even a damn exray! The next year, the TOOTH HE BROKE FELL OUT! I didn't know it was broken, of course.

Now, ALL my teeth are falling out.

Yeah, go to UNMH! GREAT IDEA! My cocaine addicted, drunken neighbor, Raoul is an EMERGENCY ROOM SURGICAL NURSE THERE!

Yeah...go to hell.

But I'll have to go, or she'll think I'm lazy or malingering or some crap.

Gotta tow the line and all...

I volunteered to help with election day coverage...I'd really like to do that. Was turned down.

uh, huh....

I'm being told I'm being paranoid about the Rogi Ghetto. I probably am, but why should I trust anybody's motives?

I still say: if I'm segregated, I can't learn as much or do as much. It'll restrain opportunities.

It really scares me.

But it's "for my own good," since I have trouble concentrating.

Uh, actually, I have trouble remembering what I'm doing, when people scream, throw things, cuss loudly, crank up the radio, etc.

But I'M the loud one. mmmmmmmm

Ok, maybe I'll start treating them the way they treat me: I'll gossip, hit them, accuse them of stuff they didn't do, yell at them, ignore them, laugh at them, dismiss their concerns as petty, blame them for my mistakes, feel superior to them, interrupt them to get what I want, not let them finish a thought because I think I know what they're going to say, make them stop working to let me, etc.

Apparantly, that's the way you're SUPPOSED to act in an office!

Yes, you read right: I was hit.

And if it EVER happens again, they'll find out what hitting IS! I was raised by a raging psychopath; I KNOW how to hurt people...BADLY, VICIOUSLY.

And yes, it really hurt: I was backhanded by someone wearing a jeweled ring. Made a big scratch across my upper arm. It bled. Yeah, it hurt. And yeah, the person meant to hurt me.

And it was something I said in innocence.

I'm trying to forgive it, but I'll NEVER trust that person again.

I have good reason, turns out: the person is unpredictable and chemically dependent.

ANYway, while they're judging me, pointing fingers at me, feeling superior to me, I'm still sharing food, complimenting people's appearance, offering to help, inquiring after people's health and loved ones....

I haven't yelled at ANYbody, but get yelled at regularly. I'd NEVER hit one of them, unless they hit me again.

I'm sure I've interrupted on occasion; when I have a thought, I tend to blurt...memory problem: I'll forget it otherwise.

I've never cranked up the radio. I've never thrown anything. I only mumble curses, generally at the computer, but I don't shout them.

I haven't threatened to throw out anybody else's belongings, either. But mine were threatened.

So, I've pretty much stopped talking to most people there, unless I need something. Except my buddies. I talk with them out on the patio, or in the volunteer room as we prepare our food.

If I can't figure out how to use equipment, I just keep trying. If it breaks, it breaks. But that'd be easier to handle than the usual resentment when I ask.

As soon as the newsroom moves across the building, I'm bringing my office chair in from home, so I have something to sit on that doesn't leave me limping. I'm just going to roll it from place to place.

I'm sure SOMEONE will complain the wheels make too much noise! And I bet I know WHO!

I'm just not speaking to the beeyatch. Don't even look at her. In the 'hood, her snotty head would be snatched BALD, the way she acts!

You think you're better'n me? Bring it on!

So, the Big Solution is to foist me off on the medical prostitutes...uh, professionals.

I'm a Problem; I must be Solved.

Solution: essense, diluted in water.

Good luck.

I don't think I'd be too useful, watered down.

It's a Clockwork Orange kinda day....

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