I got some bad news about my uncle yesterday. He's essentially my last close living relative and I haven't spoken to him since my mother's memorial, back in October. He's living in a homeless shelter and isn't really doing very well at all. He's been on a really steep decline, alcoholism, unchecked diabetes, depression, hopelessness. He has a bad infection in his foot and they tried to drain it, that didn't work. They were going to operate today, to try to put more drains in (that conjurs up really unpleasant images) and if that fails, he'll lose his foot. Christ. I heard this from my cousin, who sounded kind of exasperated. I don't know what to do, I don't know if I can help him take care of himself. I don't think I can. I don't know. I've been afraid of getting a phone call all day informing me of his death. I'm not optimistic when it comes to western medicine. I should try to reach out to my cousin, she's pretty cool, she's a lot more like me than most people in my family.
I need to write letters this weekend. I used to write letters all the time, and I had lots of mail all the time. Now I rarely get mail, and when I do get around to writing letters to people, I never send them. What a jerk!
Today was a reasonable, if unexciting day. People really wanted to talk to me everywhere I went, really crazy people seem to love talking to me. I went to the bank and took out too much money, which was a strangely exhilarating experience. It made me nervous. I bought some comic books and got some free magazines, got a new bus pass and spent a long time looking at digital cameras and computers, two things in my life I want to upgrade. The selection of cameras was terrible, so I didn't buy one, and I decided I would think a while on the computer purchase. The bookstore was closed by the time I got there, so I headed back to my neighborhood.