Catching Up

I’m sorry I haven’t been checking in more. I don’t want to be one of those people who only writes when there’s something bad going on.

And, when this is all over, when there’s a cure for Ratfanger’s Disease that doesn’t involve harvesting my tissue and “#EatADick” is no longer trending in social media, I want to be able to read all this and remember life for what it was and not only the misery I seem to always be writing here.

Life has actually been pretty good and I need to take the time to recognize that. I bought a notepad and when I find myself stressed out about stuff, I try to write what I want to be believe and focus on that. I don’t know if you’ve seen my sloppy penmanship on Twitter, but I try sharing those thoughts as much as I can. I figure if I can come out on top of all this with a better attitude than I used to have, maybe I can help other people stay positive when their lives get rough.

That way it will all be worthwhile.

So, one thing I’ve found is that since all this homelessness stuff, since saving all the money from work for getting a new place to live, I’ve lost some weight. That and the fact that I completely changed my hairstyle seems to keep people from recognizing me as much. I don’t have to walk with my head down when I’m in public. When I go out I don’t feel the need to hide my face. It’s been really nice.

Since that morning crawling back onto the beach, I’ve cut back on drinking. Admittedly I still go out, but it’s just to be social. Spending every night in the Bronco on the burned out remains of my backseat can be a little tiresome. People seem to like me when I go out. It’s been a while since I felt that way.

It doesn’t feel fake, either, even though I’m not really being completely honest about who I am. I feel more like myself than I have in years.

Work is good, probably part of the reason I’ve lost weight and look a bit different than I used to. It involves a lot of heavy lifting. They still call me “Pepe” which apparently stems from Charlie talking me up to my boss and tell him I’m very “peppy”. But on brake I get to hang around the museum and relax outside. Charlie and I have lunch every once in a while in her office. She’s been a tremendously good friend to me. After Trevor and “Rebecca”… It just feels good to trust someone.

Mostly we sit in her office and she plans her wedding. Her fiancée lives up North so after work I’ll run errands with her. Wedding planning is… tedious, by most standards. But when you’ve been living alone in your car for months, when your only other friends are the people in your DUI classes or in your mandatory community service, going from bakery to bakery and trying cake is actually pretty nice.

In fact, there’s one in Lemon Grove, and they give you a whole slice of the cake and coffee and on your year anniversary, they give you a layer of your cake for free. They were really nice. If you’re getting married, and you’re probably not if you’re reading this, you should go there.

No judgment on the “if you’re reading this” part. No one who reaches out to me or DM’s me ever seems to be over 14.

On the plus side: There are a lot of people calling me “faggot” in Twitter DM’s.