pooter winky (littleblaksambo) wrote,
pooter winky

i'm stressed.  way too much has happened this year and none of it has been very good.  the big issue currently is that i'm homeless.  not sleeping on the street homeless but not having a home homeless...you know what i mean.  since i had to drop everything and fly to florida in December, my moving plans for january stalled but my roommate’s plans did not. 


You see, the lease was up in february and we decided to part ways. i wasn't particularly fond of the kid and was only taking over for his previous roommate for six months.  so once those six months were over he would go to live with his friends and i would live with mine.  Only, i went to florida and expected my roommate to hold off on any moving plans. he didn't and once i returned, my prospective roommates (plural) suddenly became prospective roommate (singular) which made the cost of living far too expensive for the both of us.  february came and i was lost. 


now, it never rains in california. never. but during the last two weeks of january it rained more than the previous two years combined (don’t quote me on that. i’m not a scientist). it was those two weeks that i had to look for a new place. 

walking in that cold wet hell caused me to get sick. real sick. sicker than i had ever been before. that illness happened to coincide with moving week. sure enough, i couldn't do it. So, i had to pay extra to stay in the now cold abandoned apartment (my roommate was well enough to move) until i got better. by now it is february 4th.  a week later i was well again but now inundated with school work and moving duties which included renting storage space (like an idiot i inherited a bed and desk over the year and now have to store it) and begging an old co-worker to help with his oversized truck.  now it is february 11th and i'm moved out but with nowhere to go. fortunately i have a secret weapon: keith.


but keith lives in the mountains in a canyon on the other side of town. and he has a landlord. he lives in what i like to call a "guest rectangle."  it's not a guest house because a house denotes room, space. this rectangle snugly accommodates keith and keith alone. so it's february 11th and i'm snuggled up on the tile floor just below keith's bed whimpering softly in the cold. i am like a puppy. truthfully, things go well for a bit. i catch up on school work and search for rooms to rent and keith and i have late nights of close manly bonding. but then february 15th happens.


i hate that february 15th happened. february 15th was when i went to a concert with a friend. it was a good concert and a fine night. and to end this fine night my friend and i decided on some 1am thai  food. 


this is the point in the behind the music docudrama that the music ends on a dramatic chord and the camera slowly and crookedly zooms in on a mirthful black and white photo of me.


midway through the meal (an innocuous dish of tofu pad thai) i stopped because i felt full. but we all know full well that for me a single dish of pad thai is never enough. so i figured i had too many beers and left in good spirits.  but it was all a facade. those spirits weren't good spirits they were bad spirits, evil spirits with cheerful masks pretending to be good and insidiously betraying my trust so that they could burrow inside me and fuck my insides with corkscrews dipped in acid.


around 2am i finally got to keith's and went to bed feeling a little woozy but blaming it on the beer and late night. i don’t know how but i ended up in the loveseat the next day curled up in a ball and around 2pm i woke up and tossed every ounce of tofu pad thai in the most painful barfing session i have ever experienced. I was out of breath and dizzy afterwards. eventually i made it back to the loveseat and curled back into the ball for some sleep. but sleep wasn't easy. i ended up mostly praying for swift death instead. those fucking bad spirits were just warming up their corkscrews.


the next morning the real shit started, literally. 


now i don't know how familiar you all are with buttpee, but if you aren't allow me to elaborate....actually the name says it all and if any of you have gotten food poisoning you're well acquainted with it.  unfortunately so is keith but only by association.  he's the real victim here. he opened his arms to desperate needy friend and in return got gallons of the most unfriendly liquid the body can produce. he's also short several rolls of toilet paper. i'll need to pay him back for those.


so, day two was a nonstop bathroom party and monday the 16th was a big relief…for the morning at least. I managed to eat a waffle and even tried to go to school. but it was a holiday and my school was closed. that ended up being a good thing because i went right back to keith's and produced a hearty 30 gallons. This was only slightly better than the 50 the day before.


finally, tuesday happened. i'm glad tuesday happened because i felt better, for real this time. i didn't feel good but i felt better, well enough to even go to class. by wednesday i felt good, actually my body felt good. I could eat a solid meal and keep it solid but my soul or my mind or my feelings or whatever didn't feel good because i had, during my love affair with the toilet, caused complete chaos in the quiet canyon town i was staying in. 


You see, in the mountains there is little space for cars and my car had been parked in a bad spot my entire stay. in fact, wednesday morning my car, positioned where it was, caused the garbage man to level several mailboxes trying to maneuver around it. this caused quite a problem in that peaceful mountain town and just hours ago keith called to inform me that his landlord wanted me out tomorrow. FOREVER!




so now i am typing, stressed and tired and angry but mostly hungry. being sick capitalized my weekend and i am once again flooded with overdue school work and newly due school work AND i'm back to being homeless. not sleeping on the street homeless but without a home homeless. you know what i mean. 


i can probably crash at a few places but not for the length i could have stayed at keith's.  my search for a room to rent is depressingly hopeless. everyone has a cat or a sexist vendetta against males. how are females more trustworthy than males? in any case, i'm back to square one. it's february 21st and i'm no better off than february 10th. my only saving grace is my buttpoop which will at least make those cold nights in my car more bearable knowing the lesser incarnation has passed in a more hospitable environment. i can't imagine what this past weekend would have been like in my car or at an acquaintance’s house. 

i don't know what i'm going to do but I do feel better that i typed about it.

i don't know.

maybe this is the part of the docudrama where the somber music playing over slow motion footage of me spiraling out of control starts to perk up and it's revealed that my greatest inspiration is born out of this despair.    

or maybe it just cuts to a commercial. 

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