I like Mondays. Even today I am doing my best to be happy and motivated. I have work that fell behind. Today is a nice Monday. The last day of September. Cool but I’m still taking transit to my Monday job downtown wearing a shirt sleeve polo.

I’m sleepy. Fall mornings have a different sleep pattern I have not yet fully adjusted to, on top of the heavy depression drowsy feeling that has been lingering. Some of my mood can be attributed to drugs bit not all. Some of my attitude can be linked to poverty, but that has a whole series of stories connected.

October is always a weird time for me. My transition to the next numbered year on my calendar. I say I love October. The orange month. Orange is all around me, in the leaves, the photography and the decorations. It’s pumpkin spice month. At the end, we celebrate with candy. What’s not to love?

For me, it is a reflective month. I age. I review my progress and hate myself. I’m still where I don’t want to be. Alone and struggling. I review my choices over the year and see if any made me happy. The last few years have included drugs, both bad and worse. They’ve not really helped. They just made for more dramatic stories and some loss of friends. Judgements both justified and not.

I miss some of those connections lost. I miss the smiles and laughter I brought to them. And in turn, they brought to me. I miss fajitas. I miss the income that helped allow for such gatherings.

I can’t really say I’m doing my best because do much more is possible. But I’m doing the best I can each day, without the help and support of others, which I have trained myself into thinking is the right choice. I don’t ask for help. I can’t even comprehend what that help would be like, but I know it would feel awkward and uncomfortable.

I prefer to continue on my path, ignored by others who may never know my internal suffering. I don’t hold a lot of hope for the future. Except that I know it surprised me. I live for today. Monday. To make it through. I’ve lost the luxuries. Disconnected services. No phone. No tv, and quite possibly soon, no internet though I’ll do my best to keep that one on life support at the lowest rate I can find.

I’ve lost or misplaced my wallet, but that doesn’t matter since it had nothing in it I could use anyway. Perhaps I’ll find it one day in my laundry basket which is overflowing because I don’t have the $2.50 per load it needs to clean.

I’ll figure it out, I tell myself. I do. Life continues. I ride the current.

This is my stop. I need to pick up my tent covering cheque and be productive without tears. I’m eager to see how it goes.

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