I just got off the phone with one of my first friends in Baltimore, who also has HIV. He suffered a heart attack on Wednesday, and has been in the hospital for the past three days, unable to call any of his friends. I'm trying to find a way to see him on Sunday, but the MTA has remodeled their web site, and they don't seem to be offering their trip planner anymore! If I have to, I'll take a fucking cab.
The funny thing is that I had been thinking of him off and on throughout this past week, because I hadn't heard from him in a few weeks. I definitely should have called, but kept thinking of him at times that weren't convenient to call and then forgot that thought until the next inconvenient moment.
I got home this evening about 6:30 p.m. as normal, and fell right into bed. I slept for about three hours, then got up and checked my messages. I told my ex this morning that I had left my cell phone at home, but he forgot and left five messages for me throughout the day, which I picked up about 9:30 p.m. or so. He has a great memory, but it doesn't last very long. :-)
Tomorrow, I'm going to help my friend Kirk complete his move out of my ex's house, a situation that has a long story behind it that I'm not going to go into here. It will suffice to say that Russell will be glad to get Kirk out of the house finally.
