the *eighth* week

A general lack of understanding regarding simple calendar observations has made me re:think this chronology multiple times. As of right now, I'm 100% sure that this is probably the eighth week (rather than the seventh). So come the end of this week (or the beginning? to hell with it) I've been living in Cincinnati for two months. It's been "baller shot caller" and I've been "making it rain."

Monday. A common morning ritual: a trip to The Anchor in Covington to write while having breakfast: eggs, toast, and a cup of coffee. A swift and simple meal. I worked out, showered, and worked 11-6:00 with Amos. Cat wore a sweater to work and looked like an Eskimo. Brandy, Blake, and Ams came in for drinks, so I took my break and Brandy and I smoked out by the fountain. A man who looked like a vampire may have turned into a bat (or fruit-fly) and bitten Brandy in the back of her leg. Amos and I lit up the hookah when we got home. “The Gambies” as Mandy calls them (John and Matt) came over for a while, and then Brandy’s ex John came over as well. His last name’s Gambill, too, so it’s all shot to hell. I guess Brandy and John are getting back together? We closed off the night with a tapestry of beers on the front porch: Killian’s, Magic Hat 9, Doghead. Definitely a good night.

Tuesday. We had a crazy day at work. On my way to the ghetto parking garage where I leave my Celica unattended and without care day after day, I spied Gambill across 4th street, and I darted across the road in my beast-run and rounded a corner to scare him half to death. Down 4th Street a bit I saw Mandy in the window of Fusian and sought to frighten her. Kelly, whose back wasn’t turned to me, saw me coming and alerted Mandy with darting eyes. I felt stupid and then visited with them for a bit before heading home. Gambill came over and we shared cigarettes on the front porch. He left and I went to Mount Adams for a while. Eden Park’s lovely at night. When I got back Nick, Kelly, and Jared were all over, and I visited with them for a bit before going to bed. Oh: Mandy was in an accident today, and her car’s totaled. Not an optimal situation.

Wednesday. Had a cycle at work, felt on the verge of tears, consumed with feelings of failure, self-loathing, emptiness and rottenness. And then it was gone. Like a switch had been flipped. Being bipolar can make life interesting at times, to say the least. Mandy and I spent some quality time together when I got home. Amos and I hung out in the basement and then I ran some errands and had a salad for dinner and then polished it off with a chocolate protein shake. Bolthouse Farms: get it. Mandy and I spent the evening hanging out in Amanda’s room. It’s so hot it’s miserable; and just two days ago it was cold in the morning. August isn’t over and autumn’s not yet here, but we’ll make do. Oh: Mandy quit her job at Fusian today. Too much drama.

Thursday. An average day at work followed by an average evening. Worked out, got a Bolthouse from Kroger on Warsaw—the Vanilla Latte, it’s decent—and smoked a cigar while driving up and down Route 50. Nick came over, and I made some coffee for us. Pour-overs. Fantasmic. Spent the evening just hanging out with the housemates, and Isaac’s newfound friends, some hipster band who has pretty good music and a cute lead singer—spent the night.

Friday. I was the first to rise from sleep, and so as not to waken our guests sleeping in the living room, I sped away to The Anchor to do some writing and drink coffee. A handful of annoying wanna-be bad-asses were making a ruckus in the diner, annoying the other two customers and driving the waitresses up a wall (who played into their foolish games so as not to lose a tip). I came home to find Mandy and Isaac making breakfast for the housemates and the band (End Times Spasm Band: look ‘em up). Scrambled eggs, grilled bacon, cinnamon rolls and ORANGE JUICE!!!! (Mandy knows what I’m talking about). After work I had training with Rob. Mandy’s knee is throbbing and making weird noises, has gotten worse since Rob hurt it by rolling over her in his sleep. She’s really run the gauntlet this week. Everyone was in bed around 11:00. Definitely a chill, low-key, uneventful Friday evening. I needed one of those. Noteworthy: I’m not doing Food Prep anymore (they’re bringing in a former employee from the Covington site), and I’ve been switched to full-time closer with Commodore Harvey. “I changed my job title from ‘barista’ to ‘beast-tamer’,” he said.

Saturday. Another perfect morning: breakfast at The Anchor while hustling through another chapter in “re:framing repentance”. Rob, Mandy, Amos and I grabbed sushi from Fusian for lunch, and then we made a brief stop by the Carew Tower Tazza Mia to visit and get drinks (for free, mind you: I’ll never grow old of this perk). Tyler came down for the evening, and a good handful of us hit up the Dewey’s Pizza in Clifton: Tyler and me, Rob and Mandy, and Amos. “Is this a local establishment? And I’m on my own check.” I was, am, and will forever be a social fuck-show. I had a ½ Billy Goat and ½ Edgar Allan Poe, polished off with an Old Scratch Ale. Mandy, Tyler and I went and saw Ryan’s new place right next to The Madison Theater in Covington, and Tyler and I ran through McDonald’s for some frozen strawberry lemonades. Apparently they give them to you pre-mixed; definitely thought it tasted too sharp and tart until Amanda used common sense to point out my error. “Oh, yeah, I can see why people would buy this.” I’m 70% sure a bird shit in my hair through the sunroof while Tyler and I were idling outside McDonald’s. Love it.

Sunday. I had a night terror—first in a long while—and woke up with a pounding heart and cold sweats. Couldn’t get back to sleep so I smoked my pipe on the front porch and watched the sunrise over the rooftops across the street. When Tyler woke up we went to The Anchor for breakfast, and we talked about prayer and spirituality for a good long while. To polish off the religious vibes, we went to the 2nd Service at University Christian Church. About eleven of us showed up to see Jamie Smith preach in his Australian accent and with merciless dry humor. But apparently U.C.C. doesn’t have a second service, and Mandy read the information wrong. Classic mix-up. Tyler headed home and I took a nap. Mom and Dad came down to help Amanda clean her old apartment (Sarah failed to clean, no surprise there), and afterwards all of us—Blake included, just trying to weasel his way into the Barnhart Family—went to Wendy’s for dinner. A monsoon storm threatened to break the windows and trees were knocked down all about the train yards. Went on a late-night drive. Do you ever have nights where everything’s a fog and you feel overwhelmed and stressed and unable to calm down? Yeah, had one of those nights. Not a big fan.