Mornin'

Because I don't know how to say "no," I went to visit the jazzmen last night. After only getting 3 or 4 hours of sleep post-poetry, my state of exhaustion was the cause of my lack of energy although I was still just as excited on the inside. There's a new trumpet player in town who reminds me of the trumpet version of my 16-yr old looking saxophonist. If only I were a pedophile (syke!).

I think I have a problem, because this morning I sacrificed an extra hour of sleep to go to the gym. My body is sore but I am still determined to look how I did a year ago.

I got out of bed in slow motion, put on my very sexy gym clothes (sweats), got my sneakers on and headed out the door. Feeling like I was back in high school on a cold morning when I could only stand to talk to one person at a time, I put my hood on over my head, my ipod playing something not too mellow but not too mizrachi - in fact it was playing "People are Strange" (how appropriate), with a partzoof that said "don't even think about making eye contact with me" and off I went to the gym.

In the 5 minute walk to gym I recognized a homeless women I first saw 5 months ago and even photographed at Nachlat Binyamin. I don't know if it's because of the booze (I'm not stereotyping, I'm talking from what I've seen) or something else, but she now has the most swollen face I've ever seen. Sometimes I feel so helpless in this city. Would she even take my help if I offered it? What would she want? What would she need? Here at my desk I envision the two of us taking swigs out of a wine bottle, chilling on a bench that lines Ben Tzion, laughing about how we have it better than the rest of the world.

I wake up from my day dream and realize there is much work and writing to be done.