Welp, two days at my new digs, and I'm back to work. Tonight it rained like it was summer time. Tropical. Fortunately, I had the inside station, so I made a little money. I was the only one though. Sometimes you're lucky, sometimes you're not. Who said chance favors the prepared mind?
I am sharing a studio with two guys I met two days ago when I moved in. They are both kids; twenties, both are unemployed, both, I think, smoke pot but nothing else. No problems so far. I had a misunderstanding this afternoon with one of them, but I think it's cool now. I think he's hatian (he speaks french, and doesn't understand me when I talk too fast... we didn't have the sit-down over heinekens). He was about to shower, I said I needed the shower soon to go to work. He thought I meant now, but I wasn't going to be ready for 10 min. or so. He didn't understand that I was fine with him showering first, (my failure to communicate), and after I finished my phone call and he got out of the shower, he was pissed that I ignored his gesture of politeness. My bad, sorry about that, when you first begin to live with people you have to expect to bump into each other and accidentally step on a toe or two until you learn how your new roommates function. Still, I'm not ready yet to bring any valuables here.
My former roommate and very good friend and I spent a lot of time together over my two days off. We needed to clear the air between us. She cried twice because she thinks she has put me in a bad sittuation. I tried very hard to make her understand that this is exactly where I want to be. No, I don't recommend this to the average viewer... don't try this at home... but look at my situation. I have a great job where I am making good money all year. I am making almost as much as I did as an hotel operations manager. My truck loan is paid off, I can cover all of my bills now (including rent) in about a week and a half. These guys can stay or leave, I don't care. I have a place to live where it is dry, a marginal kitchen, relatively clean, and I can walk to work in less time than it takes to smoke one cigarette. Six months, and I will have my boat, if not before. I can drink now, keep my beers in the refridgerator, and now that I can, maybe I won't.
I need to start exercising again. I miss my guitar. Everything is going to be just fine, and I am in a happy space while my life sorts itself out. Time for bed. Tomorrow is my Monday, where I cram five shifts into three days. Monday is my Friday. Tuesday is my weekend. One thing at a time, one day at a time, and everything really does work out, because I have some Good Orderly Direction... figure that one out.
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