Love Is The Drug
Or a drug, anyway.
I’m a Slave to Love, at least when it comes to Bryan Ferry. I still love my job. My job still loves me to the extent that I got the the highest percentage raise possible for my position and I’m in a leadership mentoring program, which may or may not be utter bullshit, but at least my interest was taken seriously unlike the situation back in the Desk of Doom days.
My good friend Frank Frederico, formerly a KJ at the Mint, who was let go in a way that I’m still livid about has shuffled off this mortal coil. Details are not fully known, but he was alone and depressed. He was also a diagnosed Celiac and beyond giving up gluten hadn’t adopted any other lifestyle changes that might have improved his overall health. He’d been radio silent following a despondent FB post and finally his SFGMC buddies got the cops to go in and they found him. I’m in the anger stage of the grieving process with a nice dollop of guilt thrown in. (My sponsor practically rang the Al Anon bell when I told her that.)
Less than a year after buying a Harmonium, I’ll be substituting as a leader for Morning Mantras at Laughing Lotus this coming Tuesday. Terrified!Well it is Bhakti Month and I’m seeing Jai Uttal this Friday at the Freight and Salvage in Berkeley. (I Love Jai, but not the way I love Bryan.)
