June 4th

So, according to Austin Coppock, Mars entered Cancer today. I don't know what the fuck to think.

I am in a hotel tonight and tomorrow. I have showered and I have clean clothes. We all three got cheap haircuts today, but I am blowing through more money than I thought we would. Tomorrow, me and my oldest son will arrange to renew our ID -- and just in time, because both of our IDs expire this week. Sigh.

Then, I guess we return to our usual grind of scrambling to figure out how to survive the month. I am so fucking tired of this shit.

We are in the dive hotel, a different room than we have been in before. The faucet is damaged, but it has a better TV than usual. This is good because the tablet cannot get online. This is perhaps for the best. It means there is zero means for me publish the poison pen piece I wrote yesterday. Perhaps I will edit it or perhaps I will stop feeling it by the time I get back online.

I had hoped to work today and tomorrow, but this seems unlikely with the tablet failing to connect to the wifi at all.

I don't know what the fuck to think at this point. This day has gone remarkably well in many ways. If I suddenly got a boatload of money, this would all be perfect.. I am sort of surprised at my lack of angst about how much money we have blown threw etc.

I had wanted to blog about the lack of fury. I waited for my sons at the park this morning. I was feverish and still in the clothes I sweated in Monday we baked in the heat. Other than not having an oh god no terrible sandwich, I was in much the same state as before the last hotel stay. Yet, I failed to cuss my sons or god or any of the other usual suspects while I was waiting for the at the park.

I don't know how to explain the significance of this. I don't feel the parasitic infection is 100% gone, but the rage and psychosis it seems to cause may be gone. I was surprisingly calm while waiting for my sons, in spite of fever and other issues.

My head is filled with nonsense here lately. It aggravates me. The nonsense tells me money is coming and I will soon be free of my prison. My prison has been the street, so the obvious interpretation is hat I will get back into housing.

This makes no sense. I have been cussing about feeling lied to by the crap in my head.

But, today, the rage and psychosis seem to be gone. This strikes me as ...proof that it would be okay to get a house.

And that seems to be how my life works, insane though that sounds. I got a job when I was finally physically well enough to cope with a job.

I have been trapped on the street as long as housing made no sense because of my infection. In fact, I turned down several offers of housing that simply did not make sense. Today, this hour, I feel housing would not be an automatic health disaster.

My real prison has been my body, my infection. Something important has changed. I doubt this post really explains it well. I doubt I am making sense to most readers.

I feel like I am waiting for something. I am finding that aggravating.

I don't know how to navigate this. Part of me thinks big change is coming and part of me thinks that is irrational and wishful thinking. I don't know how to stay grounded and also not ...just be unnecessarily pessimistic or whatever.

Sigh.

Time to publish this and let someone else have some computer time. I am not really doing anything and, because the tablet is failing to get wifi, this is the only internet capable device we have.

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