Fog

     I was coasting. I was coasting in life.  Going to sleep early and drinking the proper amount of water had paid off.  It wasn't just something for drinking too much on a random weeknight.  Drinking enough water and getting enough sleep had changed my general mindset.  There was minimal fog and even less pain.  It was going to be a good day.  I knew there wasn't much time left at the job so I had to make a decision.

     I decided that they had to fire me.  I wouldn't walk out.  Walking out wouldn't cut it.  I couldn't just quit.  In my mind you don't quit.  You stop doing things that don't work for you.  You refocus your energy on things that move you forward.  You do these things but you don't quit.

     I could have crumbled when they told me that after 10 years I didn't deserve to be there but, I didn't.  I could have broken when they told me that I was (and had always been in their eyes) unfit for the job but, I didn't.

     I realized that these comments were made by a person lashing out and making choices based on fear.  I was ok.  My mind was clear.  The goal was to hold on to the job for as long as I could.  Rather than throw a wrench in the system I would do my best and make it work for me as long as it could.

     Going to sleep early and drinking the proper amount of water had paid off.  There was minimal fog.  Coasting wouldn't cut it any more.  It was time to stop before I ran aground.  The fog was dissipating and the path was becoming clear.

Day 114 - Happy Birthday

     "Did you just leave another birthday message?" the kid asked with his coffee in hand.
     "Yes," I said stepping out of the quiet room of the office.  Every other room had walls seemingly made of paper.  If you sat quietly while there was a meeting going on in the adjoining room you could hear almost everything down to the typing on the keyboard.
     I had a friend who had access to the mother's room in the office.  When we were sure it wasn't busy I would swoop in and record a song for a friend and send it via text.  I did this when I didn't have time driving in in the morning.  I liked to wait until afternoon because sometimes the morning voice didn't cut it.
     Lately I was so deflated in the evenings that they would know my heart just wasn't into it.
     "That's nice.  I only have a few people who remember my birthday," he said taking a swig of his afternoon pick me up.  "You must get a shitload of calls and texts on your birthday."
     "Funny you should mention that," I said watching the blue bar slowly crawl across my screen.  "I had about five people who reached out to say happy birthday this year."
     "Five?" he said choking back a cough.  "You leave two to three messages a week.  I think I've heard you call three people in one day.  How does that happen?"
     "I've been off twit/face/sound/space for a while so people tend to forget.  Most people wait for a hint from social media then they chime in.  The only place I might be lower on the totem pole might be here."
     "That's some sad shit," he said leaning against the wall.  "It's almost like you're a second class citizen.  When is your birthday anyway?"
     "It was a few months ago.  I was actually at a wedding with people who had no idea.  I had given them hints a few weeks before but no one caught on.  It was a wedding.  I didn't think much of it.  My Mom and my sister remembered.  That's all that mattered.
     "How's the coffee?" I asked hoping to change the subject.
     "Almost as shitty as the people who don't call or write to you on your birthday.  Well happy belated birthday."
     "Thank you and happy birthday to you, too."  He looked surprised.  "Don't be shocked.  It's this weekend.  They post the office birthdays in the kitchen near the coffee machine.  They feel it will increase office morale."
     "I never noticed it.  Thanks."  Said the kid as he walked back to his desk.
     I had one more message to send.  I scrolled back through a few years of texts to see if they had wished me a happy birthday in the past.  I saw that I was always the wellwisher.
     I decided to just send a quick HBD message.  After that last conversation I was so deflated that if I tried to sing they would know my heart just wasn't into it.

Day 113 - Responsibilities

     "I remember asking my Dad for something.  I don't remember exactly what it was but I know it had a bit of a price tag on it," I said as the car negotiated the curved exit ramp with ease.
     "Turn right at the light, then when you hit the first stop sign turn left.
     "I do remember that he didn't say no.  I was fifteen so he knew I wasn't going to take no for an answer any way.  I thought the money would just come from somewhere.  I didn't know any better.  His answer, though," I paused "his answer was even better than no."
     "The left right here?"  V asked as we got to the stop sign.
     "Yes."
     The night air felt good.  Had it been twenty years ago this ride would have been made at 2:30 in the morning.  I was surprised to look at the dashboard and see that it was only 9:30 at night.
     This made me happy.  If I drank the right amount of water and got to bed within the hour there was a possibility that I wouldn't be dealing with a raging hangover in the morning.
     "I remember saying something like 'I'm part of this family so I should have a say in things!'  He just looked at me and said 'You can have a say.  I have no problem with that.  The only thing you have to do is come up with enough money to cover the mortgage, pay the phone bill, electric bill, gas bill, and put food on the table for the month.  Once you are able to shoulder that responsibility you can have a say.'"
     "Sounds like a smart man," she said.
     "He was," I said reflecting.  "He was.  I didn't have the answer.  I just stood there dumbfounded.  That is when I came up with the first plan."
     "Speaking of plans, when were you planning to tell me which house is yours?"
     "Sorry.  It's the little brown colonial on the left."
     "Plans Change," whispered a voice in the back of my head as we pulled into my driveway.  I sat up a little bit straighter in my seat.  I wasn't jolted sober but I was jolted alert.  I remembered the last time I had a rock solid plan.  I remembered how my feet were trapped in stone while the machines hammered my soul into the floor.  I remembered that plans borne of pain play out poorly.
     "Are you going to be ok?"  She asked, noticing my back was a little bit straighter.
"I'm not going to read about you being found dead in your house a few days from now, am I?  You're not going to fall asleep on your porch are you?"
     "You could always come up and tuck me in," I said feeling the slick smile cut across my face, "BUT this wasn't a hook up call."
     She put her head down and smiled.
     "You're right," she said still smiling.  "This was not a hook up call.  Sleep well you beautiful black man."
     "Safe travels.  Shoot me a text when you get home so I know you're ok."
     "You've got it," she said with a little salute.  "and keep me in mind if you decide to leave this job.  Sorry about your kitty."
     "Thank you," I said stepping out of the car.
     The little convertible roared off into the darkness.  The night air felt good.  Twenty years ago I would have been worried about a raging hangover.  I knew I was going to get a good night's sleep.  I knew I would wake up the next day and have no problem with the mortgage, the phone bill, the electric bill, the gas bill, and putting food on the table.  It's amazing how time and good direction can teach you to shoulder the necessary responsibilities.

Day 112 - Derailed

     "She died in my arms," I said through the tears.  "I'm not out drinking because of the job.  I'm sad because I had to put my cat to sleep."  I covered my face with my hands.  I was too drunk and sad to be embarrassed.
     "I'm so sorry," V said touching my shoulder.
     "I was so derailed by my own mess..."  I started.  "But she knew she was loved."  I finished, wiping my eyes with one of the bar napkins I grabbed before we left.  "That's the important thing.  She knew she was loved."
     I looked at the light of the moon in my lap.  It was a warm April evening and the sky was clear.  The little sports car exploded once we reached the highway.  Her hair flowed in the wind.  She had put the top down on the convertible because she didn't want me to throw up in her car if I got too sick on the ride home.
     "Is that what you meant by the wrong decision?"  She asked while her hair whipped around her face.  "Because there was nothing you could do for her.  She was clearly suffering.  You said it yourself, she knew she was loved."
     I stared at the light in my lap and felt a few hot tears burn down my cheeks.
     "I just wish I could have done more.  Maybe I was too busy being angry.  Maybe she absorbed the bitterness that's been coursing through my veins lately.  Maybe..."
     "You are the worst drunk ever," she said shaking her head.  I looked at her sideways for a second and then we both started laughing.
     "I don't mean to sound crass.  I know what you've been through.  I had to put Kayla down last year but oh my god you are a horrible drunk."
     "It's the wine," I started.
     "That leads to the whining," she finished.  We both laughed again.  I felt a bit more of the heaviness leave my chest.  Kayla was her companion.  I wasn't a big dog person but Kayla liked me and I liked her.  She had seen my friend through a rocky marriage, a rough divorce, and a later in life career transition.  I could relate to her world of hurt.
     "I guess I'm in for the long haul."  She said.  "How far is your Mom's place from here?  40 - 45 minutes?"
     I looked over in surprise.
     "You were going to drive me all the way back to the boondocks?!?  Wow you are a friend.  I'm actually two exits up.  I have a little crash pad for emergencies."  I did the slow motion face wipe again.
     "Being on the road two to three hours a day was killing me so I set up a place where I could chill out if I needed to, like tonight.  It's nothing special.  It's like a dilapidated frat house with less testosterone and more responsibility."
     "Oh nice," she mocked.  "You're pretending to be an adult."
     "If I could afford to be an adult I'd be happier but that's all part of the plan."
     "You were supposed to tell me about this 'plan'."
     I looked from the moonlight in my lap to the moon in the sky.  I wondered if Kayla and my kitty were running through the clouds keeping each other company.  I was trying to figure out how I got were I was.  I was still drunk but I wasn't as sad or embarrassed any more.  Even in this fluid state I decided to fortify my resolve.
     "I'm sorry.  I was derailed by my own mess.  Let me tell you about my plan for love.  Let me tell you about my plan for personal responsibility."

Day 111 - The Quiet Place

     "Just ring the bell when you arrive and we'll unlock the door for you."  I slowly hung up the phone and looked at the kitchen floor.  My happy healthy kitty was gone.  She had gotten progressively worse since her last two visits to the vet.
     "She's so soft," they would always say.  This was usually followed by "I'm so sorry."
     I had tried everything I could to keep her comfortable.  I tried the expensive cat food.  She liked plain grilled chicken better.  I played with her a bit more so she felt more engaged.  She slept under the covers behind my knees to stay warm.  I made sure the faucet was on before my shower so she could get fresh water.
     Over the past few days none of this mattered.  She had found her quiet place in the house.  She followed me downstairs in the morning to see me off to work but other than that she stayed in her quiet place.  She lost all interest in toys and looking out of the common windows.
     I was used to coming home to a cheerful 'I miss you' meow followed by a thumping of paws down the stairs but lately there was silence.  I found myself laying next to her and stroking her soft fur until she gathered the strength to venture from the quiet place.
     I had moved her food and her litter box near the quiet place so she didn't have to fight stairs every time she needed to eat or use the bathroom.  The stairs were no longer her friend.  Even after I moved it she was barely making it to the litter.
     I started going home for lunch to pet her and make sure she was as comfortable as possible.
     A few days ago I went home for lunch to make sure she was ok.  She stumbled into the bathroom and barely peed in the litter.  She then slowly made it back to the quiet place near the bed.  I open up the crawl space so she could sit near her other favorite window.  She perked up for a moment then stumbled back to the quiet place.
     I decided to finally let her outside after eight and a half years.  She got in the sun and you would have thought she was a kitten.  She was sniffing around.  She was alert.  She actually tried to bolt passed me.  When I brought her in the house her spirits were up.  She was so happy.
     Unfortunately the vet was right.
     "When the turn for the worse comes," he said, "it will come quickly.  Her disease has advanced to the point where her decline will be rapid.  She could go from playful kitty to suffering in a snap."
     She fell trying to get water from the faucet at three in the morning.  Nothing was broken but I could tell she was weaker than just hours before and confused.  I cradled her in my arms like a baby but she fought to get down.  As I set her down I noticed her back right leg was dragging and she couldn't keep her head up anymore.
     She desperately looked for new quiet places in the house but couldn't get comfortable.  I felt the lump growing in my chest and the welling of tears in my eyes.
     "I think it's time," I choked out after I gave the vet all of the necessary information.
     "Just ring the bell when you arrive and we'll unlock the door for you."  I slowly hung up the phone knowing soon my kitty would be in her final quiet place.

Day 110 - Resolve

     The next few weeks slowly started to unravel.  I became the employee I hated.  I was forgetful, distracted, and on occasion, late.  JP was right.  Why was I going out of my way to prove myself to people who didn't want to respect me?
     Everything came to a head one night.
     "Have you done that?"  I think I asked again.
     "Please don't do this to yourself," I could hear the stern pleading in V's voice.
     "Have you gone back to that moment?  I mean the moment where you think you made the wrong decision?  I have.  I do it all the time."  I picked up the wine glass and tipped the stem to the ceiling.  The red didn't even have flavor anymore.  I could feel it making its way into my system to join the rest of the bottle.
     Every once in a while there is a day where no matter what you do you're done.  Every movement boxes you into a corner.  Every attempt to make things right comes up short.
     The clock can't tick fast enough and the day can't end soon enough.  Even the machines were tired of hammering relentlessly.  The grinding metal cacophony had finally reached its fever pitch and had pulled back to a steady hum.
     I closed my eyes and let the last glass hit me like a wave.
     "Thank you," I heard myself say.  "Thank you for coming to pick me up."  I extended my hand to shake hers.  I heard the empty wine glass clink against the bar in the distance.  Luckily the glass didn't break.  If only my resolve could have been that strong.
     My hand hung in the air.
     "I didn't give you my business card for some drunk hook up," she seethed.
     "I didn't call you to hook up."  I did the slow motion face wipe.  There were a few goals.  The number one was to keep it together.  The number two goal was to not puke on myself.  The number three goal was to not wake up on my front porch in my underwear.
     "I just need to talk to someone who has had a bit of distance.  I know it might not seem like it right now but I have a plan and I need to run it by someone."
     "Ok," V said rolling her eyes, "but you can tell me while I drive you home."
     "Deal," I said.
     Over the drive home I explained how the last few weeks slowly unraveled the grand plan.

Day 109 - Mailbox

     I paced around for a few seconds then stood stone still.  I couldn't for the life of me remember why I had come into the room.  My cat was perched on the back of the couch.  She raised her head and gave me a sad look of disappointment.
     Was I just coming through?  Was I looking for something in particular?  Was I just losing my mind?
      I backtracked my steps trying to jog my memory.  As I got to the top of the stairs I thought about Marrianne.  It had been a while since we had actually spoken.
The last time I actually called her was to leave a quick voicemail to let her know I hadn't forgotten about her.
     There had been a few random texts of hello since then but nothing of any significance.   I went for my phone to shoot a quick hello.
     "Son of a bitch," I said out loud.  I realized I had originally gone downstairs to get my phone.
     I went back to the living room and grabbed it from the armrest on the couch.  My cat's sense of disappointment deepened and she burrowed her head under her paw.
     I decided to call rather than text this time.  I thought about taking time to put pen to paper but it had been longer than usual.  Normally that would have been prime letter time but there was a strange sense of urgency.
     The call went directly to voicemail like before.  I got a weird pang in my chest.  I prepared to leave her a quick message letting her know things were stressful but manageable.  I knew when she called me back she would tell me to suck it up and get back to the business of business.
     "The person you have called has a mailbox that is full.  You can not leave a message at this time.  Press one to disconnect.."  The phone went dead.
     I hadn't just come to get my phone.  I had come to get my charger as well.  I backtracked my memory to the last time I spoke with Marrianne.  For the life of me I couldn't remember.  I paced around the living room for a few seconds then stood stone still.