Saturday, Feb. 28, 2004
Paid the fine, posted at 7:05 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com I paid my fines today and retrieved my car. Other than the blowing $2629 of my hard-earned money on something I don't think is fair and probably setting back my home-buying possibilities for another year, it wasn't a bad day. People were nice. I spent every last dime that I have, and the woman behind the counter lent me $4 because I could only come up with $2625. Her kindness almost made me tear up. I needed a break, even a $4 one. The check from Bill hadn't cleared yet, so I literally have less than a dollar in both my savings and my checking, but I have my car back. I hope I make it through the next two weeks before the next paycheck. I think I will, even if it means calling the old woman landlord and asking her if I can be a little late with rent this month.Enough about that. It was a beautiful day. Even though the impound lot was a very unhappy place - full of poor people that the city of Baltimore is preying upon through unfair fines, fines that I understand have only been recently instituted when O'Malley decided to use parking fines as one of the main sources of revenue for the city - I sat out in the sun on a crisp grassy knoll. I read To Kill a Mockingbird in the sun, and it felt great. A moment of zen is just what I needed, and I felt it as I travelled back to Maycomb and Harper Lee's dry sense of humor (that's what I'm noticing most in this - probably my 20th - reading of the book).
Tonight, I'm off to two parties - an apartment-warming party for my teaching colleague who just moved into a new place downtown, then to an apartment-closing party for a waiter friend of mine. My plan is to drive to the first party, driving my friend Patty along with me, then coming home, letting the dog out, dropping Patty back off, and then heading down to Fell's Point to attend the second one. There, I'll probably tie one on and perhaps finally take my co-workers up on their daily offers to crash on their couches. If the Polish girl's bed can't happen, then a couch will do. But with me luck nonetheless. (She's still with the dumb guy, though.)
I work in the morning, and hope I make enough tips for gas money for the week.
Life can again start on its upswing. For some reason, I'm convinced that March is the month that things will turn around. Twelve months of bad luck should be all. After all, it's not like I broke a mirror or anything.