bunker diaries pt. 2

10.05. The bunker galley. Mahatma Gandhi, Groucho Marx, and Richard Hell all share this birthday: more than anything today the world needs peace, humor, poetry, and music. Today one of the trainees had a seizure in the middle of the morning session. We carried him to the sick bay where the medic assured me that it was likely the result of a pre-existing condition. I felt anxious so canceled the afternoon session and returned to my quarters where I chased a Xanax with a shot of whiskey. Feeling a little better now.

10.08. Outside in the heat. Happy Birthday to Harvey Pekar. I’m watching a lizard sit still on a rock. This is what my life is now. There are days here that I don’t even remember what came before. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I feel like I’m living on the moon. During the special Sunday afternoon session today I felt like I made some kind of breakthrough with the new trainees. For a flicker of an instant they looked at me with eyes free of that certain cast, the squint of scornful boredom. My phone-in progress report to Dr.______ this evening was slightly more glowing than what I’ve written here. Now the lizard has left its rock and so must I leave mine.

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