Breakfast of Champions

The soles of my feet are black with filth. It doesn’t take much for dust and dirt to adhere to my size 13s. I shuffle over to my television and say “Good Morning” to the local news casters. They accompany the dawn. They make me laugh at witty banter and make me sad that an entire family had been gunned down last night while I dreamt of Vanessa and Emma.

I need to mop this place.

Linoleum covers the entire house making it cold and uninviting. Previous tenants cared nothing for the nice old Mexican Woman in the front house who charged little rent and asked even less questions. Half painted rooms and broken pipes are left. Water heaters need replacing, along with broken tile and rotten wood. I’m home.

Dig for clean clothes, dig for toiletries, and dig for answers I’ll never find.

Make a list of things that need to be done. Sometime between work and more work and being Poppa to a little angel I need to do any one/all of the following…

Unpack (never!)
Clean (fuck that)
Buy paint (no wait, I actually want to do that)
Quit smoking (Tomorrow)
Grow up (…)
Move on (TBD)

There is no gas running in this house. Instead of a long, warm, silent shower there is a short, angry, yelling fiasco of soap, shampoo, and obscenities. Laughing at oneself isn’t as easy as it seems when hypothermia sets in.

There is a chill in the air this morning. The sounds of the 5 freeway carry across the wall behind me. The masses flock to the Valley to begin their days as real estate agents and porn stars. I think of this and look up at the gigantic Christmas lights left cracked and dangling in the light. It’s June.

Cigarettes: the breakfast of champions. Grandmother leaves early to water plants. Dog leaves early to scratch and bark. I leave early for work.

They told me to work hard and study. They made it seem like life consisted of tests and interviews. Others told me it consisted of freedom and privacy. Some looked forward to parties and fucking. People who knew what they were talking about told us that life consisted of these things, and maybe there would even be marriages and divorces. Break ups and make ups. Life and death. I always new better though. There is one thing they don’t prepare you for.

All the time in between.