Unphonify Your Mind!

I hope this blog post finds everyone in fine fettle. 

I stopped blogging here for a while after finding my phone, after it was lost for 2 weeks or so.. 

I had gone through something akin to actual "withdrawals." 

A lot of times, especially over the first few days of having no phone, I would become curious about something, which could be as trivial as asking Meta AI where Deborah Harry went to high school, and would catch myself in mid-lunge for an empty spot on the couch, where, my whole life, my whole world, my....god, had sat.. 

I remember as an infatuated with Deborah Harry 14 year old, coming across (no pun intended) an article about the artificially blonde lead vocalist of Blondie, and, not being up to speed on journalistic devices, I remember being taken aback by a sentence that began: "Harry, 29,..." 

I wasn't familiar with the convention of the switching to just the last name of a person, whom has already been referred to by full name.

AI almost 'advanced' enough to get Harold's color right...

Nor the use of only a numeral, for an age. Like: Noah, 476, likes boats, type of thing... 

But, I found myself reaching reflexively for the phone, which was in between two books in a stack sitting on top of the radiator. 

It was only after forming a resolve,  to get back to the fundamentals of music, which made me reach for the Mel Bay Modern Method For Guitar, Book 4, which was in the same stack, that I found the phone, after 2 weeks.

I think I had a subconscious desire to get back to practicing fundamentals, but that had been subjugated by all the daily crap that came on that device. 

It had taken a whole two weeks to unphonify my brain. 

Anyway; I sit here composing this in the multi-purpose room here at Sacred Heart, not wanting to stray too far because Monique, my case manager said that 'the van' would become available today at some time and we would go to the food stamp office in it. I guess she gets paid more by doing stuff like taking a 'disabled' client on such an errand. 

Once upon a time before the pandemic, I could go to the EBT office type place, where a lady who lived in an apartment about 100 feet from the Lilly Pad, would vouch for me as working the '30 hours a month' required of an able-bodied, younger than 64, male, with seeing me 'all the time' counting for at least 30, to the satisfaction of the Louisiana EBT program. 

I have been bailed out of the immediate food 'crisis' by Elizabeth, though. 

I had done a good spoonful of kratom before going down there -through heavy rains both coming and going, as it turned out- to clean her litter boxes and wound up becoming a cleaning fool, in a fugue state. I didn't know she was going to give me a bunch of food, I just felt like cleaning. 

Once you get a section of floor all shiny, it reveals how dirty the next section actually is, type of thing. There's something satisfying about mopping a floor that is going to wind up being a totally different, brighter, color when you're done...

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