Monday Feb 09
I got down on my knees to fetch my sneakers under the bed this morning and when I was getting up, I didn't. Those who know me probably remember a time when I was walking around with crutches due to a karate injury? Yeah. It came back like a bad sequel. While it's mostly inoffensive, the injury does come back sometimes, it's on my left knee. This morning, I went back to the crutches and limited movement. With some luck, it'll be gone in a matter of days if I get some rest."With some luck". Right.
Tuesday Feb 10
The shit about this being in the knee is that walking becomes a challenge. On a regular day, I miss buses and trains and do my way wherever I have to go on foot. Since the elevators are busted in this building, using the stairs is a must. Because my computer is on ground level, getting up from the floor and sitting back down requires some knee work. And whatever I can't do on a crutch needs to be done either with one hand, or standing on just one leg. As a plus, every time I remember I got the injury a week away from the exams for the next belt, I tell myself I should've recognized the presence and influence of Murphy sooner in life.Mum went to Pops' to take care of some stuff, since she's on leave today. Pops didn't ask about me: she took care of the stuff and came back. Wanna bet he's only gonna call me asking what's wrong when he actually does need? I'm not gonna call him and explain. I didn't get paid for my last month's work, and I don't have a lot of money on my cell. As such, if there is an interest from his part, let him call.
Wednesday Feb 11
Still here, still stranded. The crutch is off, at least for walking around at home. Going outside is still a bit of a strain, and with the elevator being stuck, it is also a pain in the crack. Pops hasn't called yet to ask where I am. Which tells me he is not needing me and very happy he doesn't have to pay for my lunch. I also didn't get paid for January, the bills are piling up.Thursday Feb 12
Well... this has been an eventful day. I'm not very bored (I admit to being a little bored even today), but I'm sure annoyed. I'm still stranded at home because the knee ain't good. I can walk without the crutches but I'm not supposed to force it for long periods. So much for that: at midday today a man came by saying he was gonna cut the electricity. I told him not to, I'd find a way to make the payment. He was a chum and didn't, telling me if I didn't have the debt done by three o'clock, he would be in trouble and so would I. So I took money from the company's account and stormed out, telling my brother that if he wasn't gonna be home, he better call someone. Anyone. I don't give a fuck, there was a guy at my doorstep saying he was gonna cut off the electricity. Let them call whoever they want, but I was gonna go pay.I dragged myself to the agency I don't know very well how. Then I dragged myself some fifteen minutes on foot to find an authorized agent for the electricity company. See, funny thing: they don't accept payments at the main agency, I have to go to a payshop or authorized agent for payments. Then the authorized agent (which, by the way, was a bitch to find) couldn't accept payments via ATM, only cash or check. So I dragged myself another ten minutes and back to get the cash. I had the opportunity to review the court of law where my parents' divorce was final.
With the debt taken care of, I dragged myself home. Pissed as crow. I am now rubbing the sore knee, which is a little swollen, and waiting for my father to call asking me where the money is. When he does, I'm gonna ask him where my paycheck is. Working for family is a load of fun, huh?
Friday Feb 13
Woke up today, got out of bed and did what I usually do first thing in the morning: my way to the can. I went in, I came out, and I was gonna go back to bed when a slamming noise from the kitchen, followed by the blubber of water reached my ears. I checked, and there was water up to the kitchen door. It would appear my sink exploded.
My sink exploded. Sometimes I feel like I live in a bad sitcom.
First I shut off the water, then I dried up my kitchen. One of the plastic pipes underneath the sink came out of place, broke on one side, only crow knows how or why. I'm no plumber. But I spent a good deal of my morning and some of my 'noon trying to fit the pipe back in. Of course, because that piece of shit was broken, it wouldn't fit: every time I managed to get it in place with duct tape and turn on the water, it'd leak heavily. I considered using super glue, like I did to repair my sneakers last Tuesday, but the pieces were too small to glue in and stay there. I ended up quitting and placing a bucket under the pipe to catch on the leakage until we can gather up the cash to replace it.
Then I went out to pick some coffee (and to try to move about without the damned crutch). Supermarket was packed full of gypsies who yelled at each other in between aisles. I picked my shit and moved along; returning home, I opened the mail box. Since Pops hasn't paid the credit bills, there is a letter for Mum to get to court soon. I don't even wanna be here when she sees it: left it near the microwave and prayed I was outta here before she got home. My Uncle was in and washing dishes on the sink when I got home. I told him the sink was bust. He asked why didn't I warn him beforehand. Well genius, perhaps because I was out and there's zilch credit in my cell phone. The bucket was filled to the brim. He started complaining about the waste of water and I was a cunt hair away from poiting out the big, white, cubic thing near the window is a dishwasher, and people usually place their dishes inside for it to wash.
Finally, I got out of dodge to drink some coffee with the guys. By far the best thing in my day. Quite possibly, the best thing in my week. In conclusion. I'd like to introduce the second prayer of the Most Serene Church, and no day's more appropriate than today. This is the Hail Ill Luck, which would be an all-purpose prayer for the church. This is how it goes:
Hail Ill Luck, full of despair, Murphy come along thee. Cursed art thou amongst events, and cursed is the fruit of thy work, anguish. Horrid Ill Luck, Murphy's making, leave us the fuck alone and go take a dump in the woods. Ramen.
Weekend Feb 14-15
Left in charge of Grandma all morning on Saturday, she doesn't cut me any slack. She doesn't sleep at night, so she spends it moaning, crying, watching loud TV, coughing, spitting and complaining. She doesn't do it during the day, though. I don't understand this shit. Since my room is right next to hers, sleeping has been a horrible process full of misery and despair since they parked her here. I'm becoming an elf: if I sleep four hours a night without any interruptions, it's a lot. Anyone who complains about my morning mood gets something tossed at them.
February 14 is St Valentine's day, and I wrote the mandatory post. There was also a birthday party I was supposed to be at around lunchtime... of course my aunt only got here by five. Top notch: I went to the party, returned home on foot. Knee complained, but there weren't any buses running at that hour of the night and I didn't really have cash for a cab.
Spent my Sunday planning for the campaign I have ahead. And practicing doing rings of smoke and evil laughter (the first someone taught me yesterday, the later I've known for years, only I suck at it).
Days seem to be stretching apart. I suppose it's due to apathy, detachment and the lack of proper sleep, but on writing about the birthday party yesterday, I feel like it's happened weeks ago. I don't even think I have vivid details of it, and I wasn't by any means drunk. It's like playing an RPG with too many time between saves. By the time you pick it up again, you don't remember all too well what was going on the last time you played it. I read the log for the previous week and it gave me the impression all that shit happened far back in the past. I'm all fucked up.
February 14 is St Valentine's day, and I wrote the mandatory post. There was also a birthday party I was supposed to be at around lunchtime... of course my aunt only got here by five. Top notch: I went to the party, returned home on foot. Knee complained, but there weren't any buses running at that hour of the night and I didn't really have cash for a cab.
Spent my Sunday planning for the campaign I have ahead. And practicing doing rings of smoke and evil laughter (the first someone taught me yesterday, the later I've known for years, only I suck at it).
Days seem to be stretching apart. I suppose it's due to apathy, detachment and the lack of proper sleep, but on writing about the birthday party yesterday, I feel like it's happened weeks ago. I don't even think I have vivid details of it, and I wasn't by any means drunk. It's like playing an RPG with too many time between saves. By the time you pick it up again, you don't remember all too well what was going on the last time you played it. I read the log for the previous week and it gave me the impression all that shit happened far back in the past. I'm all fucked up.
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