It’s a windy Sunday around 1:15pm. I have a load of clothes in the washer in the laundry room downstairs. The apartment building is pretty quiet. I’m drinking beer and watching the Giants on TV. The Steelers don’t come on until 4:15pm. Hopefully, I’ll be able to send in a rent payment this week. I don’t even know how many months I’m behind in my rent; but when I get my first social security check in December I’ll be able to pay my rent every month. Things are bad. I keep going to these job interviews but I still don’t have a job. The economy is bad. I’m proud that I got my MFA in writing from Pitt in 2006 but so far it hasn’t done me much good.