Same Shit, Different Place

3 weeks now, been in the city for 3 weeks, and what can I say other than, it feels a hell of a lot longer than that. Time seems to have an odd way of working in this city. Some days feel like they are only hours long, others feel that they actually take more than one day to finish. I'm getting to the point that if I didn't have my cell phone I wouldn't know what day of the week it actually is. Thankfully though, I'm somewhat aware of my surroundings enough to know that as of right now, things are, stable is the word we're going to use.

In a way they feel very akin to how things were in Rochester, I'm still concerned about money, but I always am. I'm getting unnecessary calls from the loans, saying I need to make payments, but I already did, I'm covered for a good amount of time actually. And from details that my parents give me, my grandfather was recently hospitalized. The latter of that list is really the only thing that's been on my mind lately to be honest.

My grandfather is a great man, who I dearly respect and love. He is one of the few people who believed that I should actually pursue a career in writing. Stating that it must be in the blood, since he himself was a writer in his teen years. Actually this is a great story. My grandfather worked for the local fishwrap of Juarez when he was just 18 years old, my mother has his old typewriter that he used. On one assignment he wrote about the Mexican Cartels and as a result, was supposed to be executed. His mother immediately sought asylum for him and my grandmother in America, provided he would share the data that he had uncovered. As a result, both my grandparents were offered American citizenship, and a short while after that, my mother was born. Writing is in my blood.

Yet, with his recent hospitalization, the pressing fact that I'm so poor at the moment that I can't go and see him, I did a rather morbid thing the other night. I wrote him a good bye letter. Something that in my family is considered a huge mistake. I know he's going to be fine, cause after dealing with that family for over fifty years, there is no way that he's going to be taken down so easily. However, the idea of not being able to say good bye to his face, has weighed heavy on my mind for the past few days. I thought about just packing up and going to see him. But, somehow I know he would be disappointed to know that I stopped my life just for him. This post goes out to my grandfather. A great and beloved man who I know will be better in no time.

I've thankfully avoided disaster once again, but selling a few of my old video games for cash, i went from having ten dollars to my name to having sixty. Just goes to show you that good things can happen afterall.