Tom's new BF

 I posted 12 things last night to round it up to 20 for the last two days, and didn't feel like I'd "run out of gas" like I did the night before. 

I practiced, doing tons of long tones. 10 on each note, at least. To build up strength, is my idea. 

I got up in time to pack things, plus pack up the approx. 30 lbs of dried figs and other stuff for Tom. On my way out I found out the neighbors had thrown out tons of office type stuff, computer mice and laptop docks and so on, all of it looking new. So I grabbed a bunch of that and put it in here then took off again, but this meant I had to go straight to the post office with no detours, I felt. 

I did so, dropping off the post office stuff, then doubled back to go to FedEx and popped into H Mart for one more try to get diet Sprite or 7-Up but no luck. I got a couple small bottles of Pinafiel fizzy water, one for Ken and one for me to try, at 99c each. 

I dropped off the FedEx boxes then circled around back to pick up two big sheets of "foamcore" then after tying those down, headed to Tom's. 

Tom was inside, sleeping, according to James. James had already sold the giant blower for $140 to the metal place next door and was busy tearing the motor that had been with it by the usual bum-tech means: Hammering on it with a sledge hammer, etc. The idea being to thoroughly destroy it and in the process, get the copper wire out to sell for crack, er, dog food ... yeah ... dog food. 

James and I shot the shit for a while, and I put Tom's two boxes of stuff in his kitchen. Bums tend to eschew any food they can't shovel directly into their mouth immediately, so rice and oatmeal, which need to be cooked, are pretty safe from 'em. As for dried figs, you're not a proper bum if you don't have a head full of rotting teeth, so again, hard dried fruit is fairly bum-proof. 

Tom seems to need a sidekick or three. James told me Tom's going to let him live in the room in back that Tom was going to set up as his office. Tom's office will be what's his office now, where he's got his computer, bed, etc. The front of Tom's place looks like a junk yard now, with rusty shit and tools scattered all over. Bum chic. I wished James well and took off. 

I got back here and put things away and set about putting the stuff in front of the trash enclosure into the HVAC's dumpster which will be emptied tonight. And went back to the neighbor's dumpster for another box of office stuff and an interesting Sony radio/CD player which almost certainly has an alarm clock function and thus might be pretty useful to me. 

Tom has told me that if needed, I can always stay at his place but it appears he plans to make it into a quasi bum camp and that's right out. If I become street homeless I won't become street homeless that quickly, and can arrange things to get over to Hawaii sooner. There's no way I'd want to stay at Tom's place given his choice of "pets".

This is not to say I might not be street homeless in Hawaii. At least the weather there is not actively trying to kill a person, and as a non-smoker, non-drinker, and non-drug-user, I'm thinking that if it comes to that, my time on the street would be short. There *are* a ton of programs for homeless and low-income people, which don't work for street drug ghouls but work fine for normal people. 

Of course I could just start hustling around selling stuff on Ebay again.