hr kerry i was sitting on my front stoop this morning smoking again even though i quit smoking again because my hands were shaking from pure rage. barbara, or maybe it's donna, the neighbor with the dog that looks like a mop, passed with a wave and a prim smile just in time for "i was hired for this position and then told that i was actually considered de facto a different position and was also told by my manager and by the other hr rep that we'd continue doing things as we have been and this is not how we've been doing things, my manager isn't answering the phone, this is not at all okay and i need to feed myself--" we hadn't gotten off to a good start anyway, though hr didn't know that. i was about to ask if i'm being punished for not driving or for not having an ADA form even though i was given one week's notice-- "whoa, okay, start from the beginning." which i tried to do. i think i did. and then got off the phone and took copious notes. alex says, don't be upset, don't be sad. be angry. show them you're pissed. show them they don't know who they're fucking with. let your anger make you powerful. i tried, but i still don't feel satisfied. or powerful. 210916 ... kerry a long walk listening to belle and sebastian tends to calm the nerves. people are sweeping the sidewalks and walking their dogs. people say hello. i think of when i left the dispensary, after being terminated for turning in my notice. that moment in the kitchen when he held out his hand asking for my key to the store. i'd always worked at night, tried to avoid him, especially after the incident with the cigar store indian and witnessing so many humiliations and a promotion without a raise. i looked at his meaty hand and took my key off my keyring and for a moment was tempted to drop it on the floor, just to see him stoop to pick it up. but i put it in his palm instead. i have always regretted that--putting the key in his hand. some of us had huddled in the closet in the bud room and whispered the "U" word. we brought up organizing, briefly, carefully, when we were rolling joints at the little table by the grow lamps. in the evenings, waiting for frozen tacos to finish cooking in the toaster oven, becca and i glanced at each other and wondered, should we? can we? we should've. should, should, should. didn't. 210916 what's it to you? who go blather from