Summer in the City

Life goes on.

This morning, Honey and I went on our daily trip to Stuyvesant park. I grab a coffee from the cart guy on 14th street, a ritual of late. Tried to make my own but milk went off during the night apparently, transforming my perfectly pressed coffee into a disgusting curdled mess. I have about $17 to last until Friday and it's only Wednesday. Good girl on a budget!

Perfect start to a perfect day.

We sit, Honey hangs out while I read or do a crossword. I never, ever used to just sit but the thought of going back to a hot box of an apartment is too depressing. It's another 90 degree day already but still nice in the shade. My spirits lift slightly as the caffeine kicks in and I watch the people come and go, mostly staff at Beth Israel. Gardeners are working in the flower boxes surrounded by a beautiful fountain. Honey greets the other dogs with a stand-offish curiosity and while she looks adorable the fact is she's a possessive bitch and will act as such if another dog gets between us. She's been stellar lately, getting better every day.

We take a walk around the park and I see this woman, probably homeless, washing her clothes in a water fountain. Our paths were definitely going to cross as I had to pass her to get by. I averted my gaze and quickened my step but was drawn right into her trap. She said, "can I ask you something"? Here we go. The smell of her made me instantly nauseous, a post radiation treat. Being the ever polite waspy swf I said "sure". There then ensued a rant of epic proportions beginning with a story about how someone "broke up all her stuff" last night and ending with "Brittany Spears and her crazy tattooed boyfriend did it". I then realized she was young, so so young. I felt for her and knew she needed mental help. Her rant became louder and louder becoming more aggressive now crying "they're all racist" and "kill all white people" and how she could hurt someone real bad. Nice. Kbye!

We split leaving her screaming at no one in particular.

Momentary spirit lift=gone.

Five minutes later walking home down the avenue I spot another clearly disturbed woman pounding down the street coming right at us. "Fuck God" she said as she spat in front of me on the sidewalk. Lovely.

Moments later, after being hit up for change by the resident homeless guy, there's another guy laid out on the sidewalk in front of my place apparently going into some sort of seizure. He's shirtless, filthy, hair in matted, stinking dreads lolling about while good Samaritan guy is calling 911. I don't stop to help. I have become that person. Too much.

I really, really hate it here. Cannot believe people are paying $3000 a month to live on this block. It's a gentrified ghetto. High end tenement living. I don't belong here!!!

Change is imminent. NYC summertime blues.

Now what

So. Here we are. Honey and I sitting on my single bed back in the east village wondering what the hell? Did that really just happen?

Broke up, moved out, radiated, exhausted.

I go in and out of feeling sad, sick, terrible, anxious and lonely. I get the occasional glimpse of what it's like not to hurt this much. It's something.

My dog was evicted from dad's place upstate yesterday for biting my stepmother. 3 times. Not good. She's pissed.

I miss him. I hate myself for that weakness and hate him for what he is doing and I still miss him. I cry all day long. I saw our Calvin Klein sheets on display at Macy's yesterday while buying supplies for my rented single bed and I wanted to die. I accidentally gave away our same set of $300 Calvin sheets and duvet cover to the gal who bought our bed for $25.00 off Craig's List at 9:00am the day I moved. Took me ages to pay that off with my crap salary. She got the comforter too, Didn't realize it was in the bag. She was adorable though and totally deserved a break. I'm glad she has it and trust it will serve her well.

Whatever. It's only Stuff. Will deal with a duvet in the fall when it gets cold because right now it's 91 in NYC. Why keep looking at that damn pattern we chose together anyway? Torture.

He's gone. I'm better off I know, but hate this and hate him and feel so sad for Honey who keeps a constant vigil for him. No matter where we are. She looks so incredibly sad. Yet again, she's a cocker spaniel, they always look sad.

I am happy to have my Honey dog back but at the same time so, so, so destroyed that this is really happening.

Most likely these feelings are merely the result of a post radiation crash. It happens. My back is apparently breaking. This remains a mystery and I refuse to accept it.

I sometimes think I will not make it. Then my friends step in and do amazing things. Install an a/c unit, move my whole place around to make it better. Make me wait in the hall so as to not to lift anything heavy while they shift beds and boxes etc.

Random phone calls. Invites to whatever. Invited specifically to come live here, with a dog and for less than what I'd pay in way out Brooklyn. Amazing things really. I am blessed. Thank you. All. It is saving my life. It is meaningful and I will return the favors however I can.

Why do I miss him then? Crazy AND stupid. Nice.

What an idiot. Heal dammit! Time needs to speed up right...now!

Be gone! No more sad. Please.

Next time, flowers and sunsets and castles in Spain. Or meditations from Costa Rica. You are all invited.

Enough said.

Love and light

K x