4/8/2022

Despite a night where I did not sleep well, I had a very good day on Thursday. Work was easy, got a lot done at home and left early because I had to get money since I was going to therapy at 5 p.m. After hitting the ATM, I went to Chamo's in Neptune for a bagel breakfast because I was hungry and to break my $20 bill to pay the therapy copay. I ordered my plain bagel with pork roll and egg, no cheese nor salt, pepper, ketchup, a Naked smoothie (Blue Machine, if you are curious), and an everything with butter since all the salt bagels were sold out. A few minutes later the guy behind the counter told me some lady paid for my breakfast.

What?

"Well, that's a little embarassing. The second reason why I got breakfast was to break my twenty. Can you break my twenty?"

"Sure can!"

In the county I had about fifteen minutes of work to do, but stretched it out because a note asked me to get a deed from 1970. After copying it I saw this was an interfamily deed for no consideration. A few minutes later I found the deed where the family first took title back in 1920, ran them forward to the '90s, and like Ozymandias I felt ennui and sadness that I had run out of things to do.

Thursday was a rainy day and I had my umbrella. While walking back to the car under my umbrella, I started to feel very tired. Very sleepy. Verrry sleepy. Rather than waiting for the mesmerist to count back to zero and put me to sleep in order that I pretend to be a chicken, I decided to nap in my car. Unfortunately the seats in my car are not comfortable for sleeping, but I did get some shuteye for the next two hours.

I dreamt that I was in the same municipal parking garage, except my car was parked in a space which was six inches in the ground rather than being flush with the rest of the parking lot. I panicked over how I was going to get out without damaging my car. That's when my phone played the Gauntlet picking-up-a-key sound effect associated with my friend in Beachwood, stirring me from my sleep much in the same way Buddhist monasteries intermittently ring a bell to keep meditating monks from going too deep.

It was 4:44 p.m. and I hurried to therapy.

Therapy was good. I didn't realize it had been so long since I saw my therapist, I caught up with her, told her about new people in my life and illustrated my successes. Not to mention realizing many of my issues are situational rather than chronic nowadays. Along with some things I've come to realize, embrace, and move on with life.

After therapy, I phoned my friend in Beachwood and we had a good chat. Heard about their recent developments and tried to advise the best way possible without being judgemental. It's all good and healthy.

Tomorrow I'm in the other county, I've cooked my lunch while watching Resident Alien then brushed my teeth.

As I posted elsewhere on the internet, "Living my best life, and saying it aloud isn't going to jinx me."

post script

My landlord is taking me to the Wonderbar in Asbury Park to see a Grateful Dead cover band on Friday night. Holy moley.