Bureaucratic Limbo

Limbo:  The place where innocent souls exist temporarily until they can enter heaven; by extension, any in-between place, state or condition of neglect or oblivion which results in an unresolved status, delay or deadlock.

It's a weird time for me: the apartment is sold and I'm renting back from The Buyers but I'm still a few weeks away from the actual move.  It's an odd limbo space.  I'm getting bored enough that I'm considering smashing some stuff in the kitchen and then calling The Buyers up to complain about the shape of the shithole that they're overcharging me for.

I was at the transitional meeting yesterday.  I was in a good mood on the walk down, joined by a dude who is there from time to time.  The meeting, however, was on the edge of disruptive. There was some talking and giggling coming from a couple of ne'er-do-wells in the corner who responded to requests for quiet by raising the volume.  One of them stormed out about halfway through the meeting.  I don't think he got much out of it.  Most of the time I can ignore this stuff but sometimes it really draws my attention.

We passed around the minutes of the last business meeting.  I glanced at them then offered them to a guy sitting behind me and to my right, reaching across the aisle to do so.  He stared at me.  I fluttered the sheet a bit, as in "pass it along then."  He continued to stare at me.  OK, then.  I'm not sure if he was stoned or pissed or stupid but he did not take the sheet and pass it along, with a vengeance.  I'm under the impression that he wasn't interested in the notes from the business meeting.  I don't think he gets what we're trying to do.

The guy who led the meeting was kind of boring.  That didn't help me, either.  He talked too long and he didn't talk about anything and then the bastard had the nerve not to call on me.  I don't think I got what we were trying to do.

There's a man there that I know fairly well.  He has a similar background and life experiences to me.  I had mentioned in the meeting that I had a lot going on outside The Rooms without being specific and he asked about it after a meeting a few days ago.  When I told him I was leaving he said: "Seaweed, that's not good news."  I think sometimes - if by "sometimes" you mean "all of the time" - I expect too much out of people and organizations and situations.  I feel some bafflement at the fact that this guy has made no attempt to engage me on a deeper level - something I like doing - without giving him any credit for doing the best that he can with what he's been given. The New City is like The Old City in that both have a certain degree of reticence.  Both places hold their cards close to the vest.  I don't have a vest.  I have no poker face at all.  Everybody knows what cards I'm hiding.

There have a couple of people in the building who have been doing things prohibited by the condo by-laws.  Frankly, I could give a shit.  It isn't stuff that affects me and I'm a big fan of Live and Let Live - if by "big fan" you mean "I'm going to take a swing at the next guy who says that to me."  But I'm still annoyed at the fact that my wallet was lightened for what I consider a bullshit offense.  I toyed for a couple of day with the idea of complaining to the association just to be a pain of the ass.

I didn't do it.

Yet.