bj's gay porno-crazed ramblings

Wednesday, September 22, 2004
my life is a wad of useless crummy checks, er, um, something like that
I don't even have the energy to cry right now. I mean, as big of a crybaby as I can be most times, it isn't even what I feel like doing. But it just isn't going my way this week. After barely getting my act together and finding a reasonably affordable place to stay for my (perhaps not) well-deserved but certainly long-desired and desperately needed little vacation, all these little irritating things are happening!

Saturday night while I'm trying to catch up on my C-SPAN, my roommate announces his departure this week, leaving me needing to find a replacement ASAP. Then Sunday night I get sick, not sure what it is, and wondering how long it might last and if it will affect my ability to go to my low paying job, or worse, affect my trip. Monday, still woosy from this vague illness, nothing bad happens as I hold my breath all day. Tuesday seems OK, I even get a call from the guy from last week who 'might' be around my neighborhood and 'maybe' we can meet up while he's hanging out with friends. (this is irrelevant, why am I mentioning this?) Anyway, I try to do some household stuff, and put two loads of wash on. Back upstairs, as I am sorting through some porn-packages to be mailed, I look for these checks I've received over the past couple of days. FUCK! I did not leave them in my pocket and they are now in the washer, and FUCK! it's too late, FUCK! Oh man, 50-60 bucks in a wad of crud. And I mailed all the stuff out already, so I'm out the money on shipping. Calm down, calm down. I can't let it bother me.

Work seems fine, I think what ailed me must've been a bad meal somewhere. When I get out, head up for a beer and see the guy. He's hanging with friends, and after two beers he says they're heading out. I'm not invited, I try not to let it bother me, I head home. Gosh I need this trip. Meanwhile.... ahhhhhh, porno. I don't even bother with checking emails or computer stuff, I just settle in and watch a new tape the UPS guy delivered earlier. The tape is good, but after I 'finish up' I know I need to check a few things like ferry schedule and bus schedule, and so I get on line. An email from the guest house I'll be staying at.....

"I am writing to let you know that I may not be renting for the nights you plan to visit P-Town, Monday 9/27 through Thursday night ... a situation has arisen which may have me closed either all or part of that week. Because of this uncertainty I would suggest you consider accommodations at one of the other establishments ..."

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! I stare at the screen, I re-read it 20 or 30 times, looking for the 'ha ha just kidding we actually have a bigger room with a view for you' part that I must've missed. Nope, not there. I don't know what to do, but I write back, a pitiful attempt, mentioning my disappointment and asking for ANY suggestions on a similarly-priced place to stay. I crawl into bed. I pull the just-washed cotton sheet up to my chin and stare into the dark, up at the ceiling, sleepless.