Coffee, now shower. Thinking about that measly check from yesterday. I’m going there today with a predator mood. I want blood. I need it. I’m the orangutan. They, my rue. Making it known today, I’m moving on– mentally at first, then tangibly second. What is that wage going to do for my family? It’s not my Beat, that’s for sure. So much time of my life, and for what? My hangover, not tearing at me too tyrannically at the moment. Glad I switched over to water last night before bed. Mocha, now, just at right, reassuring me it’ll be a good day. Hope it’s right. Keep saying to myself, ‘my Beat, my Beat’… And what it is. Thought I figured it out at the end of Spring semester. Think now– or realize now that I’m just starting to put pieces together.