S.T.A.R.T. Program 4 Me

It was 6 o' clock in the morning when I woke up and immediately encountered the resistance from the mind.

There was no Baltimore Oriole singing at the stroke of 6 because the singing bird clock has got something wrong with it. Item #47: fix the singing bird clock.

Then I realized that when I quit smoking it is going to be times like this when I will not smoke the most. A cigarette first thing upon waking just about insures that it is going to be followed by another and then another, at about 40 minute intervals...

Homemade Wine

I started a 64 ounce bottle of grape juice fermenting by dumping a cup and a half of sugar in the thing, and a teaspoon of bread yeast. I had made some space for the sugar by pouring a 10 ounce glass out of it, which I had for breakfast Saturday morning, after attaching a plastic bag to the top, and sealed it to be air-tight using a pony tail hair tie type thing.

I thought about how it takes about a week to ferment such a bottle to about 95% of its potential ABV (alcohol by volume) level. Letting it sit another 3 to 6 months will give you a tiny amount of extra alcohol and will allow all the yeast to sink to the bottom, which will improve the flavor of the wine. It will be less "yeasty" flavored.

I saw an analogy to quitting smoking in the bottle, as, the first day of not smoking will not seem to yield any results, and the grape juice will not be doing much of anything. But after 2 days the grape juice is fizzing away like a carbonated beverage that was just opened.

I have an appointment at the S.T.A.R.T. program and will supposedly get a ride there by my caseworker, Nichole. I think some of the letters in that acronym stand for "treatment and recovery," and at some level I think I'm being duped into going there under the guise that it is me availing myself to the gamut of medical services provided there.

Since I haven't had a checkup in something like 42 years, I am going to be assigned a PCP, which would be a primary care provider. From there I will be shunted off in any number of directions. I will be there for an "assessment." this morning. I have to leave in about 5 minutes to meet the nice Sandy in the lobby, who will spirit me off in the van.

I need to justify my inclusion in the "Permanent Supported Housing" program or the "assisted living" or whatever the euphemism is that they are currently using to describe people who can't wipe their own ass...without assistance, I guess.

This is my chance to tell a professional about the voice I hear amidst the hissing of water running through my air conditioning unit that seems to be whispering things like "strangle Jr., kill him; kill him..."

S.W.V. -the only singing birds needed

Then they could send me over to the mental health services department and maybe go from there; perhaps getting the ball rolling towards me getting a "crazy check" every month to complement the social security benefits that I'll be eligible to start getting in a few short months that I have no doubt will fly by. I'll be focused upon enduring the hottest part of the year, waiting for the temperatures to recede from 98 degrees with 90% humidity to some point that I can shut the air conditioner (up, and) off.

But it's already time for me to go; it's just flying by....