Neighborly Stuff & Things

My next door neighbor locked himself out for the third time, and twice in one week. I broke in for him twice.

This last time he knocked on my door late at night, stranded outside. All his windows were locked, so we either had to break the glass, or he needed a locksmith.

The previous time, earlier in the week, I went in through the back window. There was a time in that situation when he was talking to me while he stood on a retaining wall that surrounded the basement door. I was scared to death he was going to fall over backward ten feet to his death. After my heart skipped a few beats, I told him I'd handle it. The window was about eight feet up. That retaining wall didn't quite do it. We didn't have a ladder, so we stacked up some furniture his female-friend/squatter left when she arrested. So, I a flimsy plastic chair on top of a living room table, which was at least sturdy to hoist myself in while he stabilized it. I'm well into middle-age, and my weight is not very well-adjusted. That was some heavy arm exercise there. At the end my heart was racing like a jackrabbit, and part of it had been fear of falling back.

To explain, that time he locked his keys in his bedroom. He could into his apartment, but he couldn't get into his bedroom, or bathroom, or lock his front door. You might ask, why instead of doing something dangerous, did I not just pick the bedroom lock? Yes, that would have been smart. The risk of grave injury was too thrilling.

But getting back to the last time, he locked himself out completely, late at night. His keys fell out of a tear in his grocery bag. He asked me if he could sleep in my foyer-living room-office-dining room. I didn't really answer him, I just called a Pop-a-Lock. I put it on my card, loaning him $115 on the spot. It took a minute and a half for the lock smith to open it. He was eight minutes a way. So, he charges at a rate of $690 an hour. Just saying, that was a very lucrative ten minutes for the lock guy, and I was grateful for every second.

I make my neighbor sound bad, but there's an explanation for him. He was a very skilled, prominent musician before he came down with throat cancer, which he survived. He's in his mid-sixties now, and like everyone on Earth, he's never been that old. He's probably also never been so poor. I suggested that he carry spare keys.

He's supposed to pay me back. I don't have money to spare like that, but I'm giving generous terms to pay back, more generous than he offered. I know how debt is.

 

The Caffeine Summit

Okay, caffeine and I have reached an understanding. It wasn't until yesterday that I was reminded of its effect as an antidepressant. It became impossible for me to do any work, or why answer the question of why I should work. It wasn't just laziness either. A small dose of caffeine, and I was back to work in a half hour.

So, from now on I take one tiny dose (I take it in pills, not coffee or drink) of about 50 mg in the morning, and 50 mg in the afternoon. Whatever effect it has on my sleep, I just have to work with it. Given all that, I actually wrote 1,200 words on a scene, and for the rest of the scene (covered in a previous draft) I have to finish editing.

This is going slower than I need it to. Maybe the caffeine summit will get me into gear. I have been working at times when I haven't previously been letting myself work. Because it's too late. Because I thought I should be trying to fall asleep, because I didn't think it would be my prime material. Now I just schedule work whenever I'm awake.

I have to help my brother move from a nursing home to a group home. That's probably going to be an all day thing. So, I'm not going to be able to work probably until the evening.

Writer's dilemma

While I'm in my urban cabin writing/editing and basically isolated from everything in life, my father's in ill health. I don't have a car and I'm an hour from him by bus. It's hard to write when I'm feeling he might not be there much longer. I already had that ordeal with Mom.

It's not a boss is keeping me at work, except it is. My only income is disability. I feel I must get off of it. While I haven't sold or made any money at writing, it's essential that I do, and soon. I have deadline in January. This draft has to be done by then, and so far I've been working too slow. That's been the story of my life. 
Because I've been sleeping my work time has narrowed. I have a different project that's made for quicker money, but it, too, is on spec.

The problem is I should have been writing thirty years ago, but instead I looked for something to support me while writing. That was a big long series of fails. I had too much trauma behind me and too many hidden medical problems. If I had started writing then I wouldn't be facing the dilemma now of work vs. family. Where just trying to start my writing career takes time I could be helping my father.

Caffeine De-tox days 3 & 4

It appears I'm off it, without too much of a withdrawal problem either. I've been sleeping a lot. I'm going to think of it as catching up on sleep after all the insomnia.

But I don't have the constant stress of not being able to sleep, and most important to me, not being able to dream.

I've been writing a lot, but that's subject for the next blog entry. 

Caffeine De-tox Day 2

I don't have insomnia anymore. Now it's hypersomnia. I sleep, get up and work, sleep, get up and work. A standard sick-day schedule. Headaches haven't been the problem I expected, not since I realized they come from the scalp and not inside, to be relieved by Icy Heat or some other topical analgesic. Of course I have to show before I go out, because I smell strongly of methyl (or menthol?) Attention span is a problem, I can only read or write so long before my lids get heavy. I hope I balance out soon.

Caffeine De-Tox Day 1

I had to make a drastic change to try to get to sleep, and I decided to go caffeine free. I had a small amount in the middle of the day, comes to about a cup of coffee, which way down from what I was doing, about seven cups. BTW, I don't drink coffee. It does bad things to my prostate. I'm giving the estimate of the amount of caffeine in cups of coffee. It was averaging about 600-700 mg a day that I took by tablets, or tablet pieces.

It's not bad so far. I have this kind disassociated feeling, and a headache, which I discovered, emanates not from in my head, but in my scalp, which is sore to the touch in the places I feel the headache. Also, I'm sweating a bit.

I'm a little surprised I got any work done. I'm calling it a sick day. I thought being off the pick-me-up stuff would lead to several, tired, draggy withdrawal days. Why? Because it has before. As W. C. Fields said (look him up on Wikipedia), "There's no problem in quitting drinking. I've done it dozens of times."

But caffeine isn't alcohol, of course. W. C. Fields didn't quit enough. He died of alcoholism.

I might go back to caffeine sometime, let's face it, that's realistic, but by then, I'll be caught up on sleep.