i think its working..

But I am foolish. I know this.

I have Ordinary Joe by Terry Collier [Nujabe's remix] stuck in my head. Its part of my musical therapy.

Which is working for the most part. Thanks to Nujabe's. Fat Jon. Samurai Champloo.

Ive seen a sparrow get high, waste his time in the sk-----y

I'm stoned. At work. Newly stoned. Now how did that happen... Well, all my suspicions were correct and I was finally in the right place at the right time. A skill i take with pride on occasion.

I woke up at 3 today. I cant seem to get my old sleeping schedule back in order. Kinda sucks. But I had an engagement with Cierra at 5 so i couldn't sleep in anyway. Woke up. Ran as fast as i could to catch one of the women at the front office [of the apartment] before she left to give her December's rent check. AP was waiting outside. His tire blew again. Which is funny. We hung out for an hour or so. I played ff12, then went to get power. Cierra came over and we went to alltel to return the car charger i bought, but there was about 10 people in there waiting in front of me. SO we left. Went to Bookman's. i got a handful of comics. classics of course [Hellstorm - Son of Satan - Vault of Horror and a few Darkness] and a few books. I got To Kill A Mockingbird, Ive been jonesing to reread that for the last couple of months, Creation, by Gore Vidal, which sounds fantastic and the Picture of Dorian Gray. Figured It was about time I read that.

I only have about 50 pages left in the Godfather, and by the time this gets posted Id like to think I'll be reading Dorian. [DORIAN!!!]

Finished with the Godfather. Now its time to start reading Mr Wilde.

Hour and a Half left. Preston came over at 9:20, we left for work, we got to work, i got out and came inside. My badge didn't work, I must've forgot to badge out last night oh well. Ill just have Preston let me in. I go downstairs, and out the front to where Preston parked the Jeep, and, its gone.

I have to wait until someone else gets back from lunch to let me inside the building, and I'm late. At 10:11 i overhear some supervisors saying that Preston isn't coming in, and how strange it was that I was here. Strange indeed. If he knew he wasn't going to come to work, why didn't he just tell me? Is he going to be here when i get off? Is he sick? He looked stoned when he came over tonight, but thats nothing new. he usually arrives with cashed eyes. But the Jeep was running when I got out. He even sat there and waited for me to go inside the building before leaving.

Is he that afraid of responsibility? I mean come on. Out of the 8 hours a night we only work about 3 of them. For chrissakes we smoked a bowl on the smoking patio. I don't understand it. It doesn't seem like enough work for me, since I'm used to high-stress level jobs, and left me wanting more. But now that I'm back into reading it's helping a lot. Finish a book or 2 a week again. Not have to make time to read at home is nice too. I can concentrate on video games and comic books. That is until i start to bring in a flash drive with comics to read at work.

Meh.

Oh well. The Jeep smells like catfish bait. If he doesn't show up then I just have to wait another 2 hours to get a ride home from Paul. He took a nap the other night and didn't wake up until 5:30. He planned to go into work around 1 or 2. I knew it wasn't going to happen, I called in at 11:00 and announced that I wasn't going to be late, I would not be making it to work tonight.

But he'll be here. I'm counting on my blind faith. He took me to work, so he should be here to bring me from work. Right? Lets hope. I got 2 bowls left and a dungeon to conquer before I go to sleep.

Work has also inspired me to write more. As you can see this is the second consecutive day I've written in my blog.

The smell of old books is intoxicating. As much, perhaps even more so, than that of rain. Walking down the aisles at Bookman's or any tiny book store is a euphoric experience. The smell of aged paper, old ink and glue. If i could make it a cologne, I would, and share it with no one else.

Oscar Wilde is a very good writer.