“You look like a homeless man,” George told me this afternoon.
George paid me the twenty dollars he owed me and I walked into the bathroom to check my appearance. I hadn’t shaved in three days and was certainly looking worse for wear. There was also a large stain on my shirt that I put on three long days ago.
“You need a drink,” George replied after I walked out of the bathroom.
“Don’t tempt me today,” I replied snidely. “Besides, they don’t sell beer here on Sundays.”
“It is only a ride down the interstate,” George said. “I’m driving.”
“I don’t want to have to fund my own demise,” I replied. “You are just out of money.”
George reached into his wallet showing me two twenty dollar bills.
“I can’t,” I replied sullenly. “I don’t remember much of what happened for three days and drinking will only make things worse.”
George left me to travel down the Interstate to buy his beer. I peeled off my dirty clothes and took a hot shower.
“I’ve got to get some food in me,” I said after not eating for three days.
I don’t feel like cooking so I pop one of my frozen meals in the microwave. I start to feel human again after that shower and shave. I choke the food down and then sit in my lazy boy thinking of George and that beer. I shrug off those thoughts as I mull over my homeless days in my mind. That was one cold winter I want to forget, but it makes me remember how far I have come. One day at a time…that’s all I’ve got.