There are strange things happening. Dark and sinister and unexplainable. It's enough to make one question the very fabric of reality. What is real? What is fantasy? I don't know. Hell, I don't know shit from shinola.
Four years ago, I applied through The Housing Authority for a smug and cozy little cabin/adobe/shack in El Paso. It took so long and the caseworker never returned my calls I had long given up. When I left El Paso this time around, I never got to changing my phone number. It was still my El Paso number. Well, last Thursday, the caseworker from HUD in El Paso called to notify me that my application was approved and that the place will be ready September 1st.
But, I was going to Puerto Rico...
But, I was going to San Francisco...
But, I was going to Los Angeles...
But, I was going to Tijuana and Mexicali...
It's in El Paso...
Well, after a long weekend of pensive thought and heavy drinking and a little hootely-hoo, I made my decision to take the house. So, I will be returning to El Paso at the end of August. Maybe. I don't know...dammit!
I'd realize what decision I'd actually made when I buy the ticket...
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