I had some trouble eating this week -- odd for a fat guy.
Nothing tasted good and I didn't feel hungry after the first couple bites.
And so then I had trouble sleeping, a task at which I am a star. If there were a show "Sleeping Like a Star," I would win every single season. I have slept through hurricanes and blizzards, fire alarms and police busts of nearby neighbors. I'm convinced that I'll sleep through Armageddon and, when awaking, will wonder, "What the hell happened? Why is the Waffle House closed?"
I struggled with the state unemployment system which didn't pay me but where no one could answer my questions, which included "What the hell happened?" and "Why is the Waffle House closed?"
Because of my lack of hunger, any dreams I had during fitful sleep revolved around finding food. The recurring theme: I am hungry. But to eat I need money. How does one get money?
When I awoke this morning, I had not only lost a day this week -- What happened to Thursday? -- I was ready to fight for recompense.
And then when in town to get WiFi, I found I had been paid.
All of it reminded me of the first meeting of Pema Chodron and her teacher, Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche. By the way, that dude was a peice of work. Look him up. He gave her little time and when he stood up to leave, she let loose on her troubles. She was at rock bottom and didn't know what to do.
Here I'll paraphrase from a "Lion's Roar" article she wrote about the advice: