Only Me

The crew began preparing to replace the roofing on the apartment just before six o'clock this morning.  Lots of noise as they readied things.  They were on the roof before seven.  All of that is illegal here in my own hometown.  I have a persnickety neighbor who will be very upset, especially because she doesn't care for Mexicans.  The old roof is already off.  There are a good number of them and they are working fast.  I don't blame them as it will be 90 degrees this afternoon, eight degrees above the average here.  They are taking down a two story chimney that is crumbling, too.  I won't tell you what it is costing me, but. . . I did my taxes yesterday and owe more money than Trump.  Combining the two, I will pay out $16,000 today.  

The car still needs power steering work and door hinges.  Lucky for me, car tariffs went into effect yesterday.  

When the roof is done later today, I will be walking the foreman around to show him what else needs to be done around the apartment and house.  Woodwork.  Siding, stairs.  That's just the outside.  I need roof work done on the house, too.  And much else.  

My cousin is leaving to go back home this weekend.  My mother is a little freaked.  We'll see how this shakes out.  

I've had a sore throat and body aches for three days now.  Haven't left the house for two.  Passed on dinner with Tennessee.  Then last night, passed on Happy Hour with the boys.  They went to the Irish pub to see my friend the waitress.  It was her birthday.  They texted me enough pictures so that I felt that I was there.  Glad I wasn't.  Somewhere in the drunken night, she told.  

"You  fucktard she showed me her head shots."

Oops.  The cat is out of the bag now.  

A trainer at the Club Y is adamant that I photograph her.  I've not wanted to.  I think she's dangerous.  

My buddy who ran an art gallery in Gotham for years and who somehow is always landing grants and other things for art installations and writing--I'm not sure what all--invited me to his art opening at the Cafe Strange on Sunday.  It is a group show with his old girlfriend and two others.  I've met them all and like them.  I told him I would come early when they were hanging the show to make some portraits.  Why did I?  It makes me nervous.  I don't want to do it anymore.  

Still. 

I printed small photos for my friend's birthday yesterday on my shitty little printer.  I couldn't get the colors and exposures right.  I need to buy a new printer, but they are VERY expensive for me now.  

And yet.  

I just ordered a new lens.  It was cheap, but what am I thinking?  

There is a Buddhist temple a few miles from me.  I think I will go there to see if they have nightly meditation sessions.  I need something to slow my freaking mind.  It is like a Mexican Jumping Bean of horrible thoughts.  Meditation might be better than whiskey.  

I have waited until it has turned hot again to do my yearly chores.  I must pressure wash and paint the deck.  The big old driveway needs mulching.  I must rip out and replace my small garden.  The wooden fence between my house and the neighbor's is falling down and must be replaced.  

The house and apartment need to be pressure cleaned, calked, and painted.  

I wish I had something good to tell, but I haven't.  I'm in need of repairing what's inside me.  I am paralyzed by anxiety and doom.  Maybe I'm right, though.  Maybe I'm more prescient than others.  Perhaps nothing is going to get better.  

More than likely, though, it is only me.