Step Out of the Panic Room

It's five-forty four on Sunday morning, the day of the Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS Flea Market. I've been up since my usual--four am--and trying to focus. Focus has been difficult for me, of late, but I seem to always step up to the plate. This morning I did some housework in the kitchen and the bathroom, posted some auctions on Ebay and went to the Rite Aid to see what they had on sale. I bought vinegar and baking soda; both were on sale and I needed them to clean the porcelain in the bathroom. The gym doesn't open on Sundays until nine am; otherwise I would have gone there.

I have noted that Tim did not come home last night. He has his cellphone back so he has more freedom and more inclination toward using that freedom. Of course, there was a house rule laid down about him having a curfew and being in by eleven pm. But (sadly) we never said we would throw him out if he were not in by eleven--only that he would have to sleep elsewhere. So I cannot throw him out today. Though we did say we WOULD throw him out if there were any drugs. I wonder if I will be able to tell, when he gets in, if he has benn using...

On a lighter topic; as I walked to the Rite Aid, I passed through Worldwide Plaza. At five am. There was a (sort of) shocking amount of activity going on in the plaza before sunrise. What I noted, especially, was that among the groups of people hanging out on benches, fountain seats and restaurants tables and chairs were two men (one in his thirties, one in his fifties) playing a feverish game of chess and just a few tables from them was a group of four people--one black man (very attractive) and three overweight girls with crunchy hair in floral print sundresses--drinking beers they had brought with them to the plaza. A few feet away, two security guards picked away the leaves that had fallen and were falling onto their pant legs. I don't know why, but the entire scene struck me as a bit comical; even surreal.

I wanted to write when I woke up. I wanted to write when I came in from Rite Aid. I wanted to write but I have no story to tell; not today. I thought, though, that it was important to drop in and say something to let alarmed friends (like Annalisa, who has made her concern for us public by posting a reply to yesterday's story) know that it's going to be ok. It is, truly, going to be ok. The time will pass, the pariah will leave and everyone will be happy, once more. Maybe there will be happy moments in this day--who can say. The point is, I am NOT moaning Myrtle and it is important for anyone who might even tend toward any kind of overly dramatic reaction ( to Tim's ominous entry into our home and to the story WILL THE CIRCLE BE UNBROKEN ) to know that they should "cool it". Just cool it.

Everything will be just fine. And when it is, you'll see me dancing again....

I promise!

please note that the photo of me dancing was done by Derik Klein