My Name Is Yon Yonson, I Work In Wisconsin.

"My name is Yon Yonson,
I work in Wisconsin.
I work in a lumbermill there.
The people I meet when I walk down the street,
They say, "What's your name?"
And I say..." indigneous Wisconsin poem repeated in Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five

Wow.

Last night was brief, but fun. I still find it odd that we're on a hugging basis with the waitress at the bar we frequent on Friday nights, and it still bothers me being hugged, but how do you say no to someone who brings you alchol?

This morning I was up early trying to stamp out another one of my father's horrible ideas. I failed miserably and was rather miserable because of it. He's 67 years old. If he is hellbent on ruining the only decent things he's done in his life then I guess he's earned that right. Comforting fact: He's back in Florida now, and somewhat out of the way. Discomforting fact: He chose the slowest week all year to come back. The busiest time of the year is coming up. He refuses to acknowledge this. I went home miserable and tried to get some sleep.

I fall asleep. Ten seconds later my phone rings. My landlord is calling to tell me he's thinking of selling the house I live in. There's no guarantee the new owner will allow me to stay on. I say that's ok, because I'm looking to buy a house of my own. He asks if I want to buy this one. There was a point, prior to his offer where I thought of asking him if he would sell me the house. Now I'm not so sure I want it. Still... I seriously consider buying it. An hour worth of phonecalls later I'm ready to make an offer...first thing Monday because now I'm going to sleep.

I intended to do laundry this afternoon as I have no clean clothes, and hoped to visit my youngest brother for his first reconciliation. Instead I got a call at noon (not an twenty minutes after I'd finally gotten to sleep) saying Ridgewood had forgotten to book a bus for their girls lacrosse team and had a busload of kids sitting out front of the school waiting to be picked up by a bus that wasn't coming. (point in fact it wasn't really a busload since they didn't have a bus, it was more of a cluster but you get the point).

I being the gentleman that I am drop what I am doing (which was sleeping) and speed over to Ridgewood. I pick up the girls and off we go.

I'd forgotten how alive seventeen year old girls are. I still can't recall why that's important.

Cut to me spending five hours sitting in the bus in Randolph reading Slaughterhouse Five and listening to Boston on my iPod (don't ask). I finally manage to fall asleep when I hear the team coming out of the building. It's funny how loud teenage girls can be. Have I mentioned how alive seventeen year old girls seem? And how dead that made me feel?

I haul ass back to Paterson, but I've missed everything. I get a little more work done. Deal with some more problems. Go visit the family for a bit. Go back to work.

It's now way too late to do laundry. I still haven't slept. I head to the store intending to buy some clothes so I can at least go out tonight. The store is closed...an hour early. There are still people inside, but they will not let me in. I am big and tall...I can not shop anywhere else.

I go home...almost defeated.

Now I am not going out, but at least I can sleep. I lay down. The phone rings. I go back to work. It is midnight. I lay down. The phone rings. I go back to work. It is 1:30 A.M. I lay down. 45 minutes later the phone rings. I do not answer. I have a voicemail. I feel guilty so I check it. An old friend is in trouble. I'll leave out the name, but here's the message.

"Chris, it's *****...call me."

I call him back right away. He doesn't answer I leave a message.

"***** yeah, it's Chris. Two minutes after you called me. If it's important call me right back, if not, it's nearly 2:30 in the morning so leave me alone."

I hang up. I lay down. The phone rings.

Abbreviated conversation transcript.

Me: What's up?
Him: I need a favor.
Me: Yeah?
Him: I fell asleep in my car with this girl and the cops won't let us go unless someone comes and gets us.
Me: Ha. Where are you?
Him: I'm in Morristown with this girl from Boonton and we need to get to Parsippany.
Me: Ha. Yeah, I'm on my way.

I cover the 45 minutes to Morristown in less than 30. Pick them up and shoot over to a grocery store parking lot in Parsippany. I drop them. I take my time heading home. It's now 4 A.M. It's already time to go back to work. I go. I rush. I head home. It's a quarter after five.

I am exhausted, I stink.

I have not slept, I have not done laundry. I am "scheduled" to work sixteen hours today.

Fuck it.

I'm going to sleep...and when I wake up I'll work on the stinking thing.

Who gives a shit if the whole place goes to pot. I've got more important things to do right now...like sleep.

So it goes...