The meeting lasted thirty minutes. I said my piece: I understand the gravity of the situation, I was drunk, I apologize, I won’t drink again, I’ll behave in the future. But they hardly listened to me. One of them, some fatass wearing khakis and a Rolex, texted on his cell phone all the way through my plea. The cowfuckers had decided before we even met. I’ve a month to find another place to live and get out of the Residence. I asked if I could appeal the decision. They said no. I hurled swears at them. None of them had a disability and I accused them of being presumptuous. None of you know what it’s like, I said. You don’t have a damn clue. How dare you put yourselves in a position to decide what’s best for people like me? I said to the fat-ass that I hoped he’d have a heart attack while he was driving down the highway and that I would laugh at him because being fat was his own goddamn fault. I told another board member, a young nurse who said little during the meeting, that her eyes were too close together. They really weren’t, but with her air of insecurity and impressionability, I knew she’d be studying herself in the mirror later on.
Not sure what to do. Haven’t told Maggie yet. Gertrude said she’d help me find an apartment if that’s what I want. I shook my head at her. I don’t know what I want. I haven’t lived regularly for a long time. The trick’s escaped me.
It’s night now. The Residence has calmed. After the meeting I went straight to my room. Avoided everyone. Tried to work and failed. I only saw Gertrude because she came to bring me some dinner and remind me about my medication. I put a chair in front of my door. Didn’t want to see Dante or anyone.
All of this on top of planning lessons and grading papers. A whole pile of papers beside me right now, awaiting my pen. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I can live alone while maintaining my workload. I don’t want to live with Maggie. Being around Randal all the time might be good, but Maggie would diminish that. She’d harp at me to leave him alone. And she wouldn’t do what the Residence staff does for me. Cook for me. Help me bathe. Drive me around. She works across town from the university. And taxis are too expensive.
Need to quit for now. My frustration’s getting the better of me. And my tremors are upsetting me.