WYFP (What's Your Fucking Problem) is our community's Saturday evening gathering to talk about our problems, empathize with one another, and share advice, pootie pictures, favorite adult beverages, and anything else we think might help. Everyone, and all sorts of troubles, are welcome. May we find peace and healing here. Won't you please share the joy of WYFP by recommending?
My bedroom windows are rattling from the wind outside. This is good. Rain will come and clean the streets of strangely sticky dust the humidity brings. I might plug the window's edge with student loan notices to silence the noise. I splurged on cat treats and wine a few days back after my shift finished, so once again I was the character in the supermarket with a basket of alcohol and cat food at too early in the morning. I got a dirty look or two and that's fine. The world does not exist for most people when they sleep. I suppose in some stoned physicist way, this is more true than I imagine.
I have bookshelves now. The cat is excited. They restore order, get the books off the floor where stalagmites formed. I found the pair at a garage sale along with an area rug, AC unit, and an illustrated history of the world National Geographic put together. These things, combined with a discarded couch from across the street and my Spartan bed make the room feel more like a home and less like a squatter's lair.
I've felt healthy the past few days, good enough to write in spite of the headaches, the now ritual sickness which comes from eating much of anything during night shift, the eye tick, the tinnitus. I make Harrison Bergeron jokes at work when I am helping a guest and the phone rings on four different lines. I avoid antiseptic service standards. Part of me hates that I am good at this job.
I am writing about the rise and closure of the White Train in Argentina in between wake-up calls and handing out delivery menus. It will become one case study for a research proposal due soon. Sometimes I don't think I ever will be able to read or write enough to feel satisfied with the work, although I am not sure that's a bad fucking problem.
The sun will set soon. Almost time for me to go.
Take a breath. There's hot drinks if you're cold and iced ones if you're hot. There's fireplaces and A/C. Here's your favorite animal and best human friend. WYFP?