The Lost Weekend

The worst miseries are the ones you bring upon yourself, repeating the same behaviors and expecting things to change. Other than fast food counter workers and grocery clerks, and a brief exchange in the hallway with Richard, I didn't speak to another living soul all day. I stuffed my pie hole and played poker. That was it. This afternoon Stephanie sent a text: she and the kids were too tired from school shopping at the outlet mall and they wouldn't be able to make dinner. "We wouldn't be good company. Can we do it the next time we come down?" I understood, but it left me sinking deeper into the morass of self absorption and aimlessness. All day long I watched two running dueces fall, straight draws and flush draws and overcards falling into place like clockwork, dwindling stacks and frustration. It wasn't my day, and I started playing tilty and frustrated and made it worse. Altogether I lost about $25, not a lot of money, but what I regret most is the wasted time. I spent a day of my life in sloth and decadence and aimlessness. I hardly saw the light of day, except walking up to the McDonalds for a greasy bad breakfast. What a fool.

Just now Marie called, sad and reflective. She heard a song on the radio that reminded her of our situation and she wanted to talk. T-mobile dropped the call. Many of my calls fail or drop, and nearly all of the crucial ones. It's contributed mightily to the sorrow and frustration between us--even when we muster the courage to try to talk things over, we're tormented by an unreliable phone connection. It's so ridiculous and frustrating and sad. Just now I tried again. "No network." I'm in the middle of Portland, for goodness sakes.

Things don't work for me. Saturday morning I went to the U.S. bank atm to get some cash to pay a bill, and the machine in the lobby was malfunctioning and didn't dispense any funds. The screen said, "unable to complete transaction" so I went outside to use the one at the drive up window, got my $200 and left. When I checked my bank account today the bank had in fact charged me for two withdrawals. I sent a frantic email from the website. Please, you've got to help me. The atm didn't give me any money. In a just world I should get double my money back and a new phone, but I'm not holding my breath. Then just a half hour or so later I was checking in at the gym and found out they are charging me for duplicate memberships. I have two open accounts, including one I thought expired several years ago. Bally's records show it as 3 years past due, something like $390 of charges. The assistant manager assured me she would get it all straightened out on Monday.

I'm off tomorrow. Good thing, because I'll have a whole day to deal with the bank, the cell phone company and the gym. Every day I have people scream at me because there was a bag of trash that stuck to their can, and I have a phone that doesn't receive phone calls, an atm machine that debits my account but doesn't dispense money, and a gym that double charges me for my membership. I'm lost in this world. Tonight I feel like I don't fit in anywhere, don't belong to anyone, and my life has no worth. I know that is thoroughly irrational, but that's the space I'm in. All we want to do is talk a while. Why in the world won't they fix it? The first two times I asked nicely. Maybe I should have screamed and made it personal.

At the grocery store on Sunday night the lonely people do their shopping. I saw the carts full of tv dinners and diet soda, the young couple with the screaming child. Two harried clerks with six people each in their line. I rented "Charlie Wilson's War" from the Red Box machine. I'll watch it on my computer, and just try to escape for a while.

I'm sorry this is so mournful. I miss my wife and the grandbabies. I did all of this to myself. We sow what we reap, indeed.