Weekly Log - 2 through 8

Monday Jan 02

This is becoming routine. Went to work, asked for money in Mum's name, didn't get any, was sent home packing. Went to every known ATM in this side of town to find one that had any cash, what the eff are banks doing that they don't replenish the machines? Then near midday, someone rang my doorbell. Before answering, I said aloud that if this were Jehova witnesses or someone trying to sell me something, it wouldn't be pretty once I opened the door. As I did, I saw the telephone people going away with some package they intended to sell to me today. Found me in a sweet fuckin' mood for sales. Fortunately for them these were the kind who went off easily - if I was getting those who won't take no for an answer, shit would've become ugly.

Tuesday Jan 03

Mum's on leave today, and she spent the whole morning driving me around, complaining about her job, the family and our finances. Tell me something I don't know. We went to pick up a gas bottle because ours is gone already. As we were coming home, trying to drag that heavy piece of crow, the elevator wasn't coming down. It was stuck on the sixth floor. Now... this ain't the first time it's happened in the past ten or so days, but I was so pissed I dropped the bottle and started climbing the stairs. My intentions? To get myself to the sixth floor as soon as possible and break the arm of whoever was holding the fuckin' thing. As I reached the stairway to the fifth floor, it came down. I tried to get to the ground floor, but of course, I wasn't on time, and Mum didn't hold whoever came out. She later told me it was a little girl, whom I happen to have seen around before. The next flippin' time I see this brat in the elevator, I'm walking her home...

Then the shopping. The guy at the register was getting ready to close down and leave only one line working on my turn. Gave me a glance and decided he could take care of my bill before he closed down the line. I don't get it: the shelves aren't replenished, there's nobody at the registers, what do they pay these guys for? If there's something that grinds my gears, it's having to force other people to do their freakin' job when they're loitering about their workplace! If I was doing this on my previous job, I'd get a talking to from the boss the same minute. You're being paid, even if only a couple euros, fuckin' work! Geez, is this rocket science, or are you really thick?

But I love this store, really. When my brother and I were here by ourselves for those months (if you'll recall, in the middle of February it'll have happened a year ago) we use to come shopping here every week. A clerk would follow us around, peeping over the shelves, because my brother wore black from head to toe and I carried a messenger bag and a jacket with wide pockets. They probably thought we were gonna steal something. Which really isn't saying much from me. If I was gonna steal something, I'd go steal it at a store where they sold national products, instead of blank labels and Spanish brands nobody knows. At least on turning to crime I could also try to injure a few national chain supermarkets.

Wednesday Jan 04

An emergency kept me home. Grandma fainted and my Aunt was about to climb up the walls. If these people were ever in a fire, they'd die there. They can't react to shit. No survival instinct whatsoever. She said my Uncle was on his way there, and wanted me to call him so he'd hurry up. I humored her and called, but in five minutes, Grandma was back and the issue was solved. In ten minutes, my Uncle was here, so why in the name of crow did I call him anyway? Plus, what was he going to do? If the situation got serious, we should be calling an ambulance, not him...

My brother's band (one of the three where he's playing the drums) is going to concert next Sunday, at 10 in the AM. I was already recruited to carry them drums to the place where the concert will happen. Of course I won't be doing this on foot, I assume my task would be to dismantle the thing, place it on the car, be driven by someone else because I don't have a license, and reassemble everything at the spot. He told me they were looking forward to a full house, so I'm calling, mailing and talking to everyone I know.

Thursday Jan 05

We're planning a birthday party next Sunday to surprise everyone who's had a birthday lately. Three people, in all. I have no idea what I'm going to contribute with. Asked around, but it seems nobody else knows, either. I ended up going by what I usually bring: the booze. Tried to ask Pops when he's going to pay me, but before I was done with the sentence he started hollering he had taxes to pay this month. So I went home at lunch time on my own, before he started suggesting I should. very cute, working for your family, isn't it?

Friday Jan 06

Murphy, in His most inspired, mind-fucking glory, got up this morning and looked at the calendar. He saw it was Friday and this He said, "I'm gonna do overtime".

I got up, took a shower and left for the daily joke I call my job. Why do I even call it a job, it's punishment anyway. The elevators are still screwed, so I'm happy I live on the second floor. First floor was packed with dead cockroaches, so I assume another visit from the bug-killing people is scheduled already. It was kinda cloudy when I left the house, but by the time I got midway through my walk to the train, it was pouring. Cursing heavily, I took the train to Pops', so he could tell me I didn't really need to come today. I decided to take the hint, turn on my heels and go home again. Why in crow's name did I even get up?

So I went home, called some job agencies, subscribed to the newsletter of a few more and printed out a few resumés to deliver to anyone requesting help on the stores downtown. The printer, which usually doesn't work, decided to print half the resume and then give me the finger again. The people from the Internet provider called, asking why I didn't pay for the bill. I told them that I didn't pay the bill because they're assholes, and didn't mail it to me, and as such it gt delayed, and I can't pay for two months in a row, so until I can, it's gonna remain delayed. Went out to take care of the previous month's bill anyway: ATM had a line that reached the end of the sidewalk. When it finally got to my turn, I discovered the 7 key was busted. Now, guess it. Come on, guess it. Guess what the third number was at the reference I had for payment. Oh yeah.

Went back home, called the elevator, it was stuck on the seventh floor. Each step of my way to the second floor was worth a curse. I got home and my Uncle was mad about me leaving Grandma unattended. I sat at the computer, no Internet. Had to mess around with the modems for a while until it came back. If it hadn't, some poor soul at the provider's call center would have to listen to a few unpleasant words. Mum got home mad, so I decided to stay down and keep a low profile. This house is becoming a war zone.

There was an invitation for coffee tonight, which I didn't see. It was sent as a text message to my cellphone. The fuckin' thing has been off for a while now, since the battery charger was busted too. The only one that works is my mother's, and she took it to work. At the end of the day I contemplated the possibility of finding a new prayer for my church, one we can say outside Unholy Mondays, because if I didn't know better, I'd say this was one.

Weekend Jan 7-8

Boring Saturday, nothing to report from it. Sunday was sure eventful. I got up at 7h30 in the AM with two hours worth of sleep and a pain building up in my crack, and went to the concert site. Now, we call know how concerts are. Shit never gets done on time. And we were some of the first people to ge there.

What I didn't know was, Kid Bro's band was invited to close down an audition for a music school demo. We actually did have to watch the demo before listening to them play. So this was the gist of it: fourteen kids mauling and murdering their guitars, some of which have over a year's practice on it. Kid Bro and a guy I know learned on their own and play better than any given person in that room. The only one worth listening to was a guy who made a short solo, hands down to him, because that was cool. Then two of them decided last-minute they wanted to show the public "an original composition" made by both. As they began playing the first chords of Fade to Black, I rubbed my face in despair and laughed. An original composition, alright, but by James Hetfield in 1984 for Metallica. Hurling chairs never sounded like such a pleasant idea, but I kept my peace. Then the teacher and a sax player did two popular songs, So Far Away by Dire Straits (or rather, they throat-raped So Far Away by Dire Straits. A sax playing this song, really? A sax?!) and something by Elvis (while the sax wasn't so misplaced as with the previous, it was nice to see it drown the guitars. At least the sax was in tune with the original song, because everyone else was playing a different tempo).

Then Kid Bro's band went in. Very cool guitars, awesome drums, but the vocals... I think there was some problem with the mics: the lead singer could hardly be heard and the guitarist, who sang one of the songs, kinda sounded like he was singing through his nose. Still, by far the best thing that played today.

Then I was off to pick some beer and head for the party. Things got kinda complicated at the last minute, since two of them got here at the same time and we thought the surprise may be ruined. Things went smoothly, though, everything worked like a charm. We did so much shit inside them four walls... midway through it the lights went out on the whole of the neighborhood. When they came back we shut them off anyway since it was being fun. I also got saved from going home to feed Grandma, so I stayed around for longer than usual. It was cool, I had fun. Glad we're doing this more often than usual.