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we set some of our clocks back. the one in my car I can’t figure out. the right side door rattles. I drive fast for around here. I drive like I think I’m in Philadelphia, like how I think everyone else drives up there. I don’t have a problem with it. probably everyone else does. mostly Roanoke is based of retirement homes and old factories that these old retired folks used to work. it’s very working class and royal at the same time, if you catch a glimpse of the old historic district. I look forward to subjecting myself to some pretty cold walks out there bundled up in many layers and my hat. my walkman is very important to me on these walks. also, if I would pray more, so would be my prayer beads. it’s not that I believe less, but probably that I think less. I’m more secluded than ever, in a sense. I don’t hang out with ANYONE. I don’t know what it is.

I’m hoping like hell for this one job. I think of it as my salvation. my current job is my damnation. I’m damned there for I don’t know how long. is there any light at the end of the tunnel? it will be a long week in the waiting room.

last week we nearly killed both our cats with this Hartz flee drop stuff. immediately Kala, our kitten, started shaking and crouching down real low, ears twitching, and he hid in the corner of the room. Rudra woke up later and was shaking. by 5 AM we woke up to him going into convulsions in the bathroom. we thought he was going to die right there. we washed him off as best as we could with a rag, and took him to the animal emergency room. later we took him to the regular animal hospital where he stayed all day and recovered to full health. I nearly had a heart attack that day I was so worried. I like to talk to the cats and speak my mind to them, no matter how ridiculous that sounds. “I’d do anything for you,” I told Rudra, and I meant it. I told him again tonight, just in case he didn’t understand the first time.