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| 9:52 p.m.-2005-11-02 Here's entry 2...I'm also working on my midterms, so things are prolly gonna be short for a few days. Oh, and a shout out to those NaNo-ers who already found me blog. Comments always welcome, plagerism is not. ;) The Captain Waking up some time after dawn had come and gone, and the sun was well on its way towards noon, Greg had the unpleasant reality of seeing a bit of paper sticking under the edge of the front door. Only door, really; his flat had a tiny lanai that looked over the glories of a garbage filled kingdom of dumpsters where several ethnic restaurants, a shady sort of pharmacy, a small tobacco shop with a clever little cartooned logo that featured a monkey sitting on a suspiciously five-leaved palm tree, declaring the fineness of the self rolling papers and the like. Oh, and the small laundry too. He hadn�t bothered to hear the banging on the door that was the manager come to deliver the bad news; he knew what it would be, and had rolled over on his tattered old futon and gone back to sleep. Now, though, it was inevitable. He had to walk himself down the short hallway, pick up the slip of white paper, tear the bit of tape that ensured �privacy�, and open the badly done trifold to find the message he knew would be there all along. The thing was photocopied a hundred times over, scratchy, blotted, noted as having last been revised sometime a decade or so ago. Three days to pay or vacate�and a sum of money required that he didn�t have. For a few moments, he stood there�and felt his stomach flip flop�his heart churn�.his ire rouse at the unfairness of it all. It wasn�t his fault he�d not quite finished school. It wasn�t his fault he hadn�t ever quite gotten a steady job. It wasn�t his fault he�d gotten laid off of this last one. It wasn�t his fault he hadn�t been able to find another. It wasn�t his fault that unemployment had run out. It wasn�t his fault that his meager savings hadn�t run out. But now�there it was in all its black and white glory. He sighed, crumpled the paper into another set of badly planned angles, and shoved the notice into the jacket that hung by the door. It took him a bit of time to take a shower�to stare at his hair, long since gone past the weedy stage and right into dire need of a brush hog. To try and brush it back and make it look acceptable, because it wasn�t quite long enough to tie back out of his chubby, round face. He sighed at the stubble too�no money for razors, and his electric one had died a couple of weeks back, because he hadn�t discovered until it was too late how to take it apart and clean it. He didn�t KNOW it could be cleaned! It wasn�t his fault he�d never owned anything like that before. Money, foolishly spent when he still had the belief he could get another job. Worse than all that�a few minutes of frantic digging revealed that he didn�t have a single pair of clean underwear either. He couldn�t get Mick�s words out of his head either. �Look, I�m telling you. There wasn�t anything WRONG with Christianity for the first�year or so. It was after people started hijacking it for their own purposes that it went wrong. Look�look at the way it changed. Those people�they were all peace and love and be nice to each other. And then Paul showed up, because he�d been struck blind on the road by a voice that _claimed_ to be Jesus�and he just moved in on that wimp Peter, and started telling the world how it was going to be. And you know, he wasn�t exactly made in the image of the guy that started it all, was he�� �STOP IT!� Greg shouted at himself�as if Mick could hear him. He rubbed his forehead, angry, embarrassed, a little worried�both for the topic, and the fact that it was gnawing at him. He gave up�put on the freshest pair of underwear he could find�put his one pair of pants back on, and his shirt. Stained grey socks that were in need of a serious washing, and his shoes. Then shuffled out, to see if there was anything left in the kitchen. Never mind, he�d dug around in there before he went to bed anyway. There wasn�t anything now, and the magical food fairy hadn�t dumped anything new either. �How the hell did I get so fat, eating nothing?� But that wasn�t true. Before he realized the direness of his situation, he�d been a little less than frugal with his funds, buying expensive snacks and things to �spice up his food� instead of staples. Now, there was a bottle of expensive, black balsamic vinegar, fourteen years aged resting next to several dark blue glass bottles of expensive spices: anise and cardamom, caraway and celery seed, cumin and dill seed, fenugreek and juniper among many others. Some popcorn salt, garlic and cheese flavored. Some kosher salt in its attractive dark blue and gold box. A couple of new cookbooks that had never even gotten a bit of oil splashed on them. He scowled again, and then turned away, out of the tiny galley kitchen with a curse. Maybe he�d take a walk, instead. Maybe he could garner the strength, the courage, the ego to go down to the welfare office and look for another job, again. Else, he�d be at the work today, pay today place first thing in the morning, to try and get enough just to get his meager belongings into boxes and into a small storage closet somewhere. Yeah. Morning sounded better, and he decided instead to go and have a walk with himself. Maybe visit the library, though he couldn�t check anything out�his library card was so piled with fines for overdue books, he didn�t know what to do with himself�and some of the books were even missing.
Current Weight: 234lbs  The Internet's Mood: The Captain Recommends Dogcessorize 2006-08-13 - Movie Review: Monster House 2006-08-07 - Movie Review: The Descent 2006-06-09 - Movie Review: The Omen 2006-06-03 - She's here, She's here! 2006-05-22 - Blame the Cabin-Boy for playing 50 questions.
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