Walked back down to the convenience store a moment ago. I was so desperate and had 2 dollars and 75 cents to my name. It would have bought me a forty once of malt liquor. A cheap drunk. Daunted, I left thinking of my anxiety attacks and walked down to the shopping center. I missed Clara. I missed Rosa. It made me think of young Derrick in our A.A. meetings when he said he drank because of pain.
"I got a gun and was going to rob the convenience store," I remember him saying one meeting. "Anything to escape the pain of my life and my alcoholism. I was hoping a cop would shoot me and put me out of my misery."
He started going to A.A. and became a different man. So sure of himself and caring of others. His brother stopped him on that cold and dark night -- a night that turned around his life -- a night that almost ended in disaster.
I walked by Clara's old homeless sleeping spot behind the dollar store and the Korean restaurant. Crumpled old empty packs of cigarettes and a healthy collection of beer bottles greeted me. I need to drive down to see her -- to know she is okay.
I came home and called my father. He was at the Auburn game and was about to walk into the stadium.
"I love you and War Eagle," I told him.
"War Eagle!!!" he replied with a resounding air to his voice. "I love you too."
We talked mainly of football and it was good to hear his voice. I wanted him to tell me how proud he was of me subverting yet another drunk. He didn't. I didn't tell him. I didn't want to burden him with yet another problem. I come and burden you all.
My neighbor, Joyce, is mentally ill. She is having a terrible time this weekend. I need to go over and see about her, but I am afraid of what I may find. She acted extremely strange yesterday when I talked to her. I wonder if people feel the same with me? Eggshells is the word that comes to mind. I am so afraid of bothering her when she is feeling ill. My father alluded to her illness over the phone, but couldn't tell me the specifics by law and being her pharmacist.