This bronchial inflammation is the worst to strike in years, and I went off this morning, and at the pervasive incompetence of this company. I have told them, time and again, that their control of the radiator heat makes me ill, and one day they are going to kill me; my tears, my pleading for relocation got ugly, and I wept all the more for how the city of Philadelphia has taught me to hate; indeed, the keystone state itself is a representative metastasis. I should have found legal representation a long time ago, and I'll be working on that most of next week. I allowed Terri Way, the young manager at Diamond Park, to dissuade me from filing a lawsuit then, after the assault, and I followed her here. Both decisions were a mistake. An attorney may not be able to get me a statue of limitations exemption, but they can get me out of the building, and away from Presby's power to turn individuals like myself into a secure portfolio dividend. I'd start searching for public housing attorneys this evening but I am still too somnambulated, and it took a great deal out of me to make up most of that session. The Wednesday group is more affluent, status conscious, and I felt ashamed of myself, my clothes, poverty glinting like a neon sign, and oddly fell in to a conversation about Pynchon's allusions to Ulysses with a very sheik and groomed fellow named Shaun, and put my foot in my mouth offering him my copy of Vineland, Why do I deliberately don social inadequacy? There was no need, the fellow was just following my lead, like all the boyfriends I never had, the inept partners who couldn't.
And yes, I did stop in DD, only because I was going to perish. The young man who let me in must have seen this, and Claudie, behind the counter, had to zap me into the realization that the young man was treating me. Joy to the world. The kids know I am sick, and kimmy bushes out her tail, prancing my shoulders, "Mommy, I am here and I will make you better!"
Cleaned one litter, but had to stop there.
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