DO WE EVER GET IT?

        Now that we're having record low temps, that big stash of frozen soup is gone. Nobody's complaining. Joey made deep-fried chicken nuggets and jalapeno/cheese peppers. I opened two half-gallon cans of fruit chunks (by myself), and we called it lunch.
       Either crime is up or the system is just cycling, because the pre-release population has increased markedly (up to maybe a dozen all told). The homeless, sadly, have increased as well, so we had what I used to think of as "the usual crowd" today. Maybe it was just me, but the homeless had a low-down feeling about them that I haven't sensed before. Even tall, handsome "One-front-tooth" was missing his grin.
       I printed out a picture of my grandfather for our new Jewish fellow, so he could have a visual of the "family nose" I boasted about last week. He's such a nice guy. I just don't get it.
       We needed 34 sack lunches ... ew... but a new "community-service" person came, and I had help with those! She's just the cutest thing--maybe 40--and just as "able" as can be (in my eyes), but she's applying for disability. She's been working since she was 14 and says she's ready to "just do nothing." Lifestyles. I just don't get it.
       We all had fun, though. Joey even turned up the CW music so we could rock out
       The gatekeeper has changed again! This one is adorable, too, and introduced himself as something like "senior advisor." He does have a more professional air than the others. I still miss One, and this constant changing of the guard keeps me alert ("Is Joey here?").
        I asked the community-service worker how many hours she had left to serve, and she said 40. So I suggested she come back during the week and knock those out. "No! she said firmly. "I'm not coming here unless Joey is here."
       "I heard that," I said. "You and I are soul sisters." So I guess I'll have help with the sack lunches for a few more Sundays.
       Vegetarians... gone.
       Angry child with blitzed mom... still there. Didn't see Mom today. I took kiddie yogurts and gave them to four young fellows. Angry child also got a pack of bubble gum. I told him, "Hide it. Nobody else got one." Again, his hand found his pocket as if he's practiced that move often. Poor little guy. Joey said the child's mother just "fell out" on the sidewalk one day. We talked about how all children love their mothers, how that child might be better off in a stable home, how much responsibility and humiliation he feels for his mother, how twisted his chances are. He's a little boy; he deserves so much better. I just don't get it.